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Jongin's tears are still hot where they trail down Jongdae's fingers. His skin is slightly rough under his hands, the few hours between his last shave and now enough for stubble to grow in.
Hickupping, he sniffs, nose stuffy from crying and eyes already starting to puff up.
“Jonginnie,” Jongdae croons, “what's wrong, hmm?”
His voice, low and quiet with leftover sleep still sticking to him, just sets Jongin off again. He tips forward, into the sharp edge of Jongdae's collarbone, buries his nose into the curve of his neck.
Jongdae is all warm and soft from bed, smells like their laundry detergent, and something that reminds Jongin of warm hay.
His hands are sure but gentle where they slide into the short, short hair on the back of Jongin's neck, and that feeling makes another sob heave out of Jongin.
“It's gonna be okay. It's just a month and you can come back home for your desk job. You won't even get to miss me, and after it’ll be just like it is now.”
Jongdae is right, of course. They've stayed apart for work before, Jongdae busy overseas with songwriting and Jongin stuck at home for his job at the school. He loves being a counselor, most of the time, but having to watch his boyfriend travel all over the world without him still stings.
But this is different. Jongdae's hand smoothes up over Jongin's shaved head, back down again to the collar of the military-issued shirt he's already put on.
Back up, this time over the sides of his neck and under his chin, lifting Jongin's face from his hiding spot.
“It'll be okay Jongin,” Jongdae promises, a sad smile on his lips. He leans forward to press a featherlight kiss to the apple of Jongin's cheek, makes his way down Jongin's jaw, over his chin and up to his lips.
It surely isn't the best kiss he's ever stolen from Jongin, snotty and salty from the tears he had spilled even before Jongdae woke up just a few minutes after him.
But Jongdae doesn't seem to mind, fingers petting over Jongin's temples, over his ears. He pulls at one lobe and Jongin can't help but giggle, throat stuffy.
“Don't tease me, Hyung. It'll be hard to speak every day like we usually do when you leave,” Jongin whines into Jongdae's mouth, earning a sharp little nip for the trouble.
“Even then, I'll drop you off later today and you'll get through training just fine,” Jongdae tuts, pinches on Jongin's ear again.
Jongin has his hands fisted into the soft, brown button-up Jongdae had worn to sleep last night. It's familiar and well-worn, a christmas gift from years ago. Jongin has a matching yellow set of pajamas somewhere in his drawers.
“Come on, Jonginnie,” he pets over Jongin's head again, a shiver running down Jongin's spine at the feeling of short hair being brushed back, “let me make you some waffles for breakfast and I'm sure you'll feel a bit better.”
Jongin nods and leans into the pet over his cheek when Jongdae gets up from their couch, rubs a hand over his face after, sticky with drying tears.
“Can you put strawberries on top for me?”
Jongdae looks back, smiles and nods, eyes a little misty.