"That might be easier," Hakkai admits with a slump of his shoulders; salt crystals melt against the washcloth as he wipes his face neatly and presses the washcloth against the stain on his own shirt.

That done, he reaches up to dab at the stain on Jedao's, smiling at him with tired affection.

He takes the bowl with him as he gets up to go to the couch, though. He's probably going to find himself getting annoyed enough to say something out loud.