"I hate my hormones," Jungkook sniffs into the fresh tissue Namjoon hands him, "I swear you were never this pathetic at my age,"

"Oh I was pathetic enough. Don’t think that just because you’ve never seen me crying in the toilets doesn’t mean it’s never happened"

They’re sat on the bathroom floor, long legs crushed between the wall and the bath, Jungkook hiccupping away the last of his sobs. He does cry a lot, more than Namjoon remembers ever doing himself, but memory is a funny thing and anytime that he begins to suggest that the maknae is having a rougher time than the rest of them Hoseok shoots him a long sideways glance. They all cry sometimes, and it’s not Jungkook’s fault that he’s the last of them left to contend with the compound effects of idol stress, homesickness and teenage mood swings.

Namjoon throws an arm around Jungkook’s shoulder and pulls him into a lopsided hug, “it’s gonna be ok kid,”

"I know it’s just…" Jungkook’s breath stutters like he might start crying again, "I’m so far away from home."

Jungkook pulls his shirt up to hide his face as his shoulders begin to shake once again, and Namjoon reaches for the toilet roll. It’s going to be a long night.