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Minseok has always loved dyeing his hair unnatural colours... pink, green, blue, red... something new every month. His hair is strong, so he could do it regularly.
Seeing him with a buzzcut is weird to say the least. It's not like he's not gorgeous, absolutely stunning ㅡ no. It's just Jongdae knows how much Minseok hates short hair on himself. And being forced to cut all of his luscious locks is just outrageous, as he says.
In reality, it's not the hair that's the problem. The buzzcut is just a pretext on which he could let out all of his frustrations regarding having to leave. Jongdae knows he's scared even though he doesn't want to admit it. You could clearly see it in the way his eyebrows furrow and his teeth sink into the inside part of his bottom lip, sometimes even hard enough to draw blood and discomfort. It's almost like he wants to cry. But he never does.
"Hey, Jongdae-ah?" he always asks, running a hand through his short hairs, almost like he's trying to get used to the coldness he feels on the nape of his neck where there isn't hair to cover it anymore or his ears for that matter.
"Yes, hyung?"
"Do you think that..." he always continues, his short fingers fidgeting, playing mindlessly with his hoodie's zipper "...do you think that time will pass quickly?"
Jongdae smiles. Always. It's a bittersweet smile. Like he's just trying to give himself more time to answer. That's the only thing he could do since he cannot give it to Minseok.
"I guess it will." he always lies.
Feeling powerless and unable to help the love of your life regarding something is shattering. All you can do is give out some encouraging, meaningless words, hoping that your special other would buy them. Minseok never does, but he appreciates the effort.
All Minseok does is stare at himself in the mirror, contemplating his buzzcut. It's funny ㅡ how his hair has become a constant reminder that it's his turn soon. Maybe, in other circumstances he wouldn't have hated it so much. Baekhyun wholeheartedly said that this is his best haircut up to date.
"Hyung!! You look awesome and so manly!" the younger exclaimed, his eyes big and mouth slightly agape.
Minseok smiled back. It was a nice reassurance coming from his best friend and his other best friends seemed to agree. But it wasn't enough to make him like it.
And if Minseok isn't staring at his lack of hair in the mirror, it's always Jongdae that his eyes lay upon for seconds, minutes, sometimes even hours at night.
Lately, everything that the younger has been doing felt extra interesting for him.
Jongdae laying on the couch, reading a book.
Minseok could stare at him eternally. The way Jongdae's short stubby fingers flick the pages, the way his eyebrows frown in concentration or even frustration when one of the characters does something stupid, the way he licks his bottom lip about 2 or 3 times per chapter or the way he clears his throat from time to time... all these little things are branded into Minseok's brain. He wants them branded there. He won't get to witness anything like this for at least 2 years.
At night, it's even worse. Minseok has been losing sleep over watching Jongdae. Big hours. It's just he finds his lover absolutely mesmerizing. Sometimes he even cries while watching him. Quiet sobs, to not wake him up. Seeing Jongdae's eyelids tight shut, guarded by his long lashes, his soft rose lips slightly parted and his features relaxed... it feels soothing, but it breaks his heart. Feeling his soft naked skin, tracing all the lines of his muscles under the dim light entering the room in which his rings and bracelets glisten in some angles... it shatters Minseok.
And it's all because he won't get to witness anything as beautiful and ethereal as this... for at least 2 years.
So he just tries to act strong. To toughen up. After all, this is normal, right? Every Korean man has to do it at some point... and not even only Korean men, even men of other nationalities... sometimes even women. Why wouldn't he do it? He's not special, this is his duty. He should be proud. He should be excited.
"But I'm not excited. I'm scared." he always says to himself, mumbling under his breath in front of the mirror for Jongdae not to hear him. He doesn't want to worry his love.
The younger himself has been highly supportive and encouraging towards Minseok. What else could he do? If there is someone that needs to put on the happy mask, it's definitely him. Minseok has been looking up to him ever since they met in some ways. Plus, Minseok doesn't trust anyone more than he trusts Jongdae. He is his safe space, his truth. No matter how hard Minseok tries to protect Jongdae, he always finds himself in the position of needing protection from him. Reassurance. Hope. Safety.
"You are so brave. The bravest man I know." Jongdae always assures him, topped by a kiss on his favourite features of Minseok ㅡ either his cheeks, or nose, or forehead.
Minseok believes him, of course. When it comes to Jongdae and his well-being, Minseok has always been brave. Put him before his needs. It's only natural. Jongdae is his most precious treasure.
But Minseok has always been weak when it comes to his own being. Never fully taking care of himself. Succumbing to his vices. Drinking. Smoking. Dieting too much. He has done it all in great measures and it has taken a toll upon his body, but especially his mental health. Jongdae is the anchor that's keeping him tied to reality, to his purpose. Jongdae is also the lifeline keeping him afloat.
Perhaps that is why he's so afraid to go. Because going means Jongdae won't be there to call him beautiful every morning or to smile at him whenever he says a stupid joke or to call him during grocery shopping and request the list again because he managed to lose it or moan loud enough when they're having sex to scare Tan out of the room. His Jongdae just won't be there for him anymore. And he needs to get used to that.
"You know, maybe if you were born sooner, we would have went there together." Minseok comments, letting his eyes drop to the floor, and then his black military boots, analyzing them like they're some kind of expensive fashion accessory.
"Nonsense!" Jongdae laughs. "We either wouldn't have ever met or... probably wouldn't end up in the same unit anyways!"
Jongdae has helped him pack his bags, making sure he took all of his necessities with him. Peculiar of him. Jongdae is usually reckless when it comes to stuff like this, leaving it all for another day or just slacking off, losing a sock from a pair or forgetting his toothbrush. But for Minseok, he made sure he got everything he needed and more. Still keeping that fake reassuring mask on. Deep in his heart, Jongdae wants to yell, to scream, to shout until his vocal chords break. Until they break and he can never speak, sing or laugh again. Until Minseok comes back and sews them back together. He cannot imagine a life in which Minseok isn't by his side 24/7. He cannot imagine a life in which he doesn't wake up to Minseok's flawless face traced by sunlight. He cannot imagine a life in which Minseok doesn't exist.
Sometimes he curses himself for falling for a man. He sometimes curses himself for being a man as well. Look where this got them ㅡ Minseok standing right in front of the opened door, clutching tightly at his luggage, so tightly he feels like his veins would pop any minute, his body shaking discreetly, discreetly enough for Jongdae to pretend he doesn't notice it. Minseok gulps one last time, before opening his mouth to say something. Anything. He is mortified.
"From my calculations... I will be there for 579 days. Shorter time than what Changmin-hyung did, for example." he says, a comforting tone laying into his shaky voice.
Jongdae just stares at him. Stares like Minseok has been staring for the past months. The roles have reversed. It's the first time in years in which Jongdae notices that Minseok has aged. No matter how much he has been looking, watching, gazing at him, he has never looked his age, he has never looked so mature. He feels like when he will come back, he might not even recognize him.
"I think I ... " Minseok starts, his heart beating so fast he thinks it might stop any moment. "... I think it's time I should go." he breathes out, feeling like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, yet it has been replaced with an even bigger one.
Jongdae is supposed to be strong. He is supposed to be Minseok's rock in these moments, like he has always been. The always cheerful one, the one that never cries, the one that always has a nice encouraging word to spare. But he cracks. He cracks at the realization that he needs to say goodbye.
"I don't want you to go." Jongdae simply affirms, holding a knot in his throat.
"Jongdae-ah, love, don't do this..." Minseok bites the inside of his lip. Hard. Drawing blood.
"I don't want you to go..." Jongdae repeats, the knot finally breaking, a long sigh escaping his lips and tears flowing like a river from his brown eyes. "Please.. I can't..."
Minseok is at a loss. Mainly because he cannot say no to Jongdae. He never could. Never in the 8 years in which they've known each other.
Eight years... they have never been apart from one another. Eight years in which they've been together almost non-stop. They realize that they're depended. Depended on being together. They don't know how it feels to be alone. And they need to learn.
"I don't want to go either, but I have no choice." Minseok explains, straightening up his posture.
Jongdae nods pathetically. He already knows all of this. But he cannot stop his heart, his mind, his body from the outburst. Without Minseok, the world is bland, sad, lifeless.
"Jongdae... my prince... the love of my life..." Minseok sighs in awe, his hands softly cupping the younger's face, wipping away those stray tears with his index fingers.
"Minseok, I am proud of you. You are the bravest man I know. I love you with all I have."
And that is the only reassurance Minseok needs before stepping out of the door and looking back at Jongdae one last time, forcing his brain to encase every single feature Jongdae has. This and the goodbye kiss that they share. One last time.
Then Minseok leaves. And he cries.