Classes had started and things were finally going back to normal. Sehun wasn’t leaving every night to go out to drink, and Luhan wasn’t giving him the cold shoulder. In fact, they might have become better friends than before the rift.

Luhan still didn't know what Sehun meant when he’d said he used to love him, because he’d said, “I’ll tell you the story of what happened in the alley if you tell me what you meant.”

To which Sehun had replied, “Not another word out of your mouth.”

“But-”

“Ah ah ah! Not another word.”

Really, Sehun refusing to talk about it may have been hint enough, but Luhan didn't want to jump to a wrong conclusion and make things awkward when it had just started getting better. So he let it go.

Sehun took his old job back. He didn't reapply, or anything, he just showed up, put on his apron, and paid no attention to the manager's bafflement as he served customers. At the end of his impromptu shift, the manager told him he couldn't just do that, and that if he wanted to work he would have to submit an application again. Which he did, and he got rehired.

Luhan laughed at him that day, but Sehun didn't mind because he still was sure as boba is boba that any laugh harmonious enough to come from Luhan was inherently pure and well-intentioned. Also, he’d missed his laugh.

He’d been being petty. It was immature of him to react that way, and a part of him knew that it was only because he had feelings for the older man. His pride was hurt. Did he still love the man? Of course. Passion that strong doesn't evaporate the way emotions do. But would he die if Luhan didn't love him back? Probably not. Which was a step up from before, that's for sure.

“Hey, Arts,” Luhan said, entering the room covered in what smelled like papier maché.

“Hey, Musical Theatre.” Sehun couldn't help but wonder why in the world he had papier maché on his chin. How does one even mess up the most childish of art forms?

“Help?” Luhan begged. “I have to make a mask for this one course that has to be durable enough to last the whole semester.”

Sehun snickered. “And you chose papier maché?”

“I mean I don't have so much to work with.”

Sehun stood up from his hunchback position at his desk and stretched before slipping himself into his jacket. Then he grabbed Luhan’s wrist and pulled him out to the hall and towards the elevators.

“Where are we going?” Luhan said, stumbling to keep pace and not succumb to the force of the momentum. “Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

Luhan slowly stopped recognising buildings as they got farther from East campus. In all four of his years, he’d never had to go this way, so he never had. He saw students carrying art packs like Sehun had, and guessed that they were in Southwest campus, where the arts buildings were. No wonder Sehun navigated the maze of structures masterfully.

The two ran into Zitao on the way, and he joined in. “Where are we going?” he asked.

“I like how you don't even know, but you're ready to join us anyway,” Sehun chuckled.

“I’m always down to party.”

Sehun entered a building named Jang Juwon. Why a building had a person’s name baffled both Luhan and Zitao.

They went to the third floor and Sehun opened a door to a studio. Expertly, he the lights and made his way to a storage room in the back and came out with a cart. “This mask will last you as long as you need it to,” he said.

The three of them had the privacy of the whole studio to themselves, so Luhan took the leisure of laying down on a table at Sehun’s instruction. Zitao filled a bucket with lukewarm water as Sehun went to work cutting up pieces of dry plaster into small rectangular strips. “You want some music?” he asked. “This may take a few minutes.”

Luhan nodded. Zitao went to work covering Luhan’s face in petroleum jelly. Sehun pulled out his phone and pressed shuffle, not caring what song played. CN BLUE’s “Love Light” filled the room and Sehun gave Zitao a smug look. “See? Not moping.”

Zitao laughed. “Not anymore.”

Sehun flicked the younger one on the forehead.

The two artists were in full concentration as they dipped the strips in the water and placed them gingerly on the oldest man’s face, laying the foundation for what would eventually be his mask.

Sehun smiled to himself while Luhan’s eyes were closed. What a dream. Two things he loved; art and Luhan. Coming together in a way that made him believe maybe this new year would be good to them.

“Why are we doing this, again?” Zitao asked.

***

Kyungsoo finally joined Jongin to a doctor's appointment. It was weird to see Jongdae in such a formal environment, but it was even weirder to see Jongin like this.

“Good morning Mr. Kim, Mr. Do,” Dr. Kim greeted with a shake of the hand for each of the boys.

“Good morning, Doc,” Jongin greeted. “Oh boy, am I ready for today.”

Without waiting, as if he’d done it millions of times, Jongin picked up the gown on the patient bed and crossed the hall to the bathroom.

He probably had done this a million times, Kyungsoo realized.

“So, how are you?” Dr. Kim asked.

“I’m doing fine. Yourself?”