“Yifan...” Just the sudden appearance of his boyfriend, the stress of worrying about the bat, the guilt over yelling at his kids, everything just liquefies and pours down Jongin's cheeks. He's not usually a crier and tries to hide his face, but Yifan pulls his arms down and hugs him, standing on his knees between Jongin's legs.

“I'm sorry. It's okay.” There isn't a huge difference between their statures and builds, but Yifan always makes Jongin feel substantially smaller. It could just be how firm his hugs are, enveloping Jongin fully.

Finally, he gets a handle on his tears and pulls out of Yifan's embrace enough to wipe his face with the hem of his shirt. His eyes are still pink and swollen, and his lashes are dark and clumped together from the tears, but Yifan's whipped enough to think he still looks gorgeous.

Jongin sniffs and almost touches Yifan's cheek, but he avoids the bruised flesh and stands up. “You need ice,” he mumbles. His face feels sticky from tears, and he knows Yifan doesn't care, but he cares. He hates crying, especially in front of anyone. His dogs wag their tails when he passes, and he pauses long enough to ruffle their ears and apologize for yelling. Monggu tilts his head, always the most perceptive to tears.

He wets a paper towel and scrubs his face, then wraps an ice pack in a kitchen towel.

Yifan's still kneeling on the floor, looking kind of dumbstruck more than lovestruck with the shiner.