When Jinyoung first auditioned to become an idol, he was keenly aware that life in the entertainment wasn’t going to be as glitzy as it seemed on television – his parents made sure of that–but he never anticipated he’d spend so much time waiting. He waits for the group’s turn to rehearse on the stage, for his turn in the make-up chair, for his time to be primped and prodded by the stylists, for the group’s turn to go back on stage and do recording, for his turn to talk to the cameras backstage, etc.

Two years into their debut, the others have found their preferred ways to pass the time. Youngjae relentlessly goes over his parts, his voice floating through the air and reaching all corners of the waiting room. Mark falls asleep on a chair, plays games on his phone, or falls asleep in a chair after playing games on his phone. Yugyeom either goes over the choreography with Jackson or huddles with Bambam in a corner doing God knows what; Jaebum paces about the room, checking on everyone’s hair and clothes and make up and generally making sure the lot of them are on track to being stage-ready. Jinyoung himself likes to read a book or flip through a magazine. Jackson is a bit of a wild card; he tends to slink around the room, in search of someone to annoy. It looks like today is Jinyoung’s turn.

Jackson steps in front of Jinyoung, where he’s lounging on the sofa and bends down until he’s eye-level with him. “Ugh, Jinyoung, what the hell did you have for lunch?” Jackson grimaces, waving a hand in front of his nose. Jinyoung looks up from his magazine, his brow wrinkled in confusion. “How can you even think of going on stage like that?”

“What does the smell of my breath have to do with my singing ability?” Jinyoung frowns, huffing into his hand and smelling his breath. “And I don’t even smell anything.” He huffs again and inhales for good measure. “There’s nothing to smell.”

Jackson leans in until their noses almost touch and he sniffs at Jinyoung’s mouth. “Gah! Something must be wrong with your sense of smell, dude,” Jackson says as he recoils, his words slightly muffled beneath his hands. Jinyoung rolls his eyes before he turns back to the magazine spread in his lap. “Luckily for you, I’m willing to help you save face.”

Jinyoung barely has enough time to say ‘What?’ before slightly clammy hands are cupping his face and his head is being tilted up. He ends up with his neck pressed against the back of the sofa as Jackson leans over him, their lips pressed together. Jinyoung blinks in surprise, not sure what the other man is thinking. His eyes widen, all but falling out of his head, when something warm and wet pushes into his mouth and wraps itself around Jinyoung’s tongue. Jackson’s entire mouth tastes cool and minty, like he’d eaten a giant, frozen candy cane just a minute before.

“Mmpff!” Jinyoung’s hands come up to hold Jackson’s shoulders as he’s pulled forward, Jackson his tongue into his mouth. Jaebum’s head swivels in their direction, his eyes quickly scanning their faces, and he walks away with a little nod to himself when he gleans that neither of them have had their turn with the hair stylist or sat in the make-up chair yet.

“Mwa! There, now your mouth doesn’t smell like a dying animal,” Jackson pulls away with a wink. Jinyoung swirls his tongue around in his mouth. As much as he’ll maintain the fact that his breath wasn’t smelly before, he can’t say he dislikes the peppermint taste that’s been imprinted onto his tongue.

“You know you could’ve just given me a mint to eat, right?” Jinyoung says dryly as he blinks up at Jackson.

“That’s just not my style, Park Jinyoung,” Jackson calls over his shoulder with a smirk as he goes to get his hair done. Jinyoung rolls his eyes and leans down to retrieve his magazine from the floor. Settling back down on the sofa, he find his lost page and continues flipping through it until Mark is finished in the make up chair, his lips until his tongue stops tingling.