*warning for mild ual content
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Luhan wraps his scarf tighter around his neck, shoulders hunched to keep the chill at bay.  The city is suffering through a long winter this year - snow heaped along the sides of the roads and turned brown with dirt and muddy footprints.  It leaves the citizens restless, too much energy pent up from being cooped inside with most of the businesses closed.  Today is the first time in over a week all the shops lining the main strip are open.

Keeping his head down and hands jammed in his pockets, Luhan turns the corner and heads for a more unsavory section of the street.  He doesn’t have to go far before he sees a red door, picking up the pace as he hears shouts at the end of the alley and muffled scuffling.  His breath catches in his throat and his heart accelerates just enough to have him wired before he darts through the door, closing it firmly behind him.

Tiny colorful bottles tinkle on their glass shelves from the force and Luhan gives Zitao a sheepish smile as he begins unwinding his scarf.  The warmth of the small shop seeps into him slowly, thawing pink cheeks and slightly numb fingers.  Plush red carpet and soft lighting from the lamps lit around the room give it a calming effect and it works quickly on Luhan, heart slowing and movements less jerky.

“Been busy today?” Luhan asks, slipping behind the counter with his coat and scarf draped over his arm.

“I heard there was a rush this morning - almost more than we could handle - but it’s slowed since.”

“You think it will pick up after sunset?”

“I can only hope.”

Luhan sighs and nods before bumping shoulders with Zitao on his way to the back.  Behind the room that’s just big enough to house a counter with a register and a locked cabinet full of bottles is a long hall, thick crimson carpet lining the floor and leading up to gold patterned wallpaper.  It’s starting to peel up around the ceiling, but Luhan likes the rustic, homey feel it gives off.  There’s an office at the end of the hall where Joonmyun - the owner - is usually holed up away from the world.  Luhan watches him crumble day by day and can do nothing to stop it.  He’s tried, but Joonmyun doesn’t like getting close to people.

The world suffers from an addiction.  It began with a medical breakthrough - a synthesized drug that could be used to give a person the right chemical concoction to trick the mind into believing any emotion it targeted.  The appeal was immediate, calls for mass production instantaneous.

What sits behind bulletproof glass atop numerous shelves and inside tiny multicolored bottles are emotions by the ounce - passion, happiness, confidence, hope and above all, love.

Luhan isn’t a , but rather a peddler of emotions, a warm body to experience them with. It wouldn’t be much use to purchase two hours worth of lust if there was no one to help satisfy the urge.  So when someone walks in the door, they have the option of walking out with their carefully concealed package or paying a little extra and choosing to spend it with one of the handful of employees in the back.  The fee is not only for the time, but enough to cover their chosen companion taking the same dose so the experience is more real, a mutual benefit to all concerned.

What they do isn’t illegal, but it is regulated.  After the introduction of chemical emotions, abuse wasn’t far behind.  Spouses were spiking their husbands’ and wives’ drinks with lust so they’d cheat and have to pay a fortune in divorce settlements.  People in power were found dead, murdered in fits of unexplainable rage by their assailant.  The number of suicides increased exponentially across the board.  So the government cracked down, forcing regulations on the companies and distributors and sellers.  The less desirable emotions were banned altogether, but that doesn’t stop them from getting out.

Luhan’s bleak outlook on life gives him an upper hand in this business; he can enjoy his time spent under the influence of these uplifting emotions while not getting addicted.  He knows what life holds for him and it isn’t much outside these walls.  His apartment is small, trashy and his blankets threadbare.  Luhan survives on what he needs to get by and nothing more, saving the rest of his credits for when his beauty runs dry and he’s no longer employable in this field.

There’s are four doors on the left side of the hall and Luhan walks through the third, immediately tossing his coat and scarf over the back of a chair.  The room is his while he’s on the clock - a decent sized bed with a plum colored comforter off to one side and a matching couch and set of chairs on the other.  It’s cozy and inviting, just as it should be and Luhan flops back on the mattress, waiting.

The night is alive with the sound of people on the streets, people searching for something they’ve been missing and the chime on the front door jingles with a steady stream of lost souls.  Luhan doesn’t have much time to recover, draining glass after glass of water to flush his system thoroughly after each customer.  He manages to catch glimpses of Baekhyun and Jinri in the hall and even Joonmyun has taken over the counter, sending Zitao off to his room in the back to keep the wait to a minimum.

Luhan’s tolerance is being tested and he knows he can only handle one more emotional ride.  It’s a few hours til sunrise, a few hours until he can go home to his hard mattress and curl up to sleep it all off.  He’d gotten lucky with his last client, a college kid by the name of Kai (most likely fake) who just wanted someone to cuddle with and tell him he wasn’t a failure.  It was a nice shot of affection, a slow ride that Luhan shakes easily enough.

Joonmyun looks Luhan over with worry when Luhan joins him in the front.  No matter how detached Joonmyun is from everything, Luhan still sees that spark of life when Joonmyun grabs him by the wrist, thumb gently rubbing on the inside as his other hand sweeps Luhan’s dark hair out of his face to peer into his eyes.  “You need to rest,” he commands in a soft voice.  “Go home, Luhan.  It’s been a long night.”

“I’m fine,” Luhan insists.

“Your eyes are bloodshot and your pulse is erratic.”

Luhan shrugs, pulling his arm out of Joonmyun’s hold.  “I got dirt in my eyes earlier and I was just jogging down the hall.  I have to keep up this manly physique somehow and I’m during the day.”

Joonmyun cracks a smile and Luhan grins, poking a finger to Joonmyun’s cheek teasingly.  He has to jump back when Joonmyun swings at him playfully and it’s nice to see him to cheerful, sincere happiness if only for the briefest of moments.

Someone walks in and it’s broken, both of them glancing toward the door to greet the newcomer.  He’s tall, handsome with blond hair slicked back out his eyes and a tailored suit fitted across broad shoulders.

“May we help you this evening?” Joonmyun begins with a well-practiced smile.

“I certainly hope so,” he answers, voice steady and posture confident as he stands in front of the counter, eyeing the display behind it.  “I’m looking for love.”

Luhan’s eyebrows raise, curiosity piqued.  Love is the most expensive of the emotions legally available and as such, is rarely purchased.  It’s so coveted that Joonmyun rarely keeps more than five or six hours worth in the shop at all times to take them off the radar for potential robberies.

“You’ve come to the right place then,” Joonmyun answers.  “Are you interested in a companion to go with it or will this be to go?”

The man’s eyes fall on Luhan who stands up straight under the scrutiny.  “Are you one of the companions available?” he asks Luhan directly.

“I am,” Luhan responds even as Joonmyun frowns beside him.  He knows his own limits and as much as he appreciates the concern, a little love isn’t going to do him any harm.

“Then I would very much like to have your company.”

“I believe we have an accord,” Luhan responds with a soft smile.

Joonmyun takes the customer’s credit card while Luhan unlocks the case to pluck two hour long vials of love off the shelf, red glass clinking together in his hand.  Joonmyun catches his elbow before he can turn.  “Go home after this,” Joonmyun entreats and Luhan nods.

Luhan’s newest customer isn’t far behind him, brushing past Luhan when he opens the door to his room to allow him entry.  He accepts the small vial handed to him just after flicking the lock on the door.  There’s no time for pleasantries, for any awkward moments to sneak in between purchase and use and for that, Luhan is grateful.  He isn’t sure if he can deal with anymore small talk from customers trying to shake off their nerves.

Love tastes a lot like cough syrup and Luhan grimaces as it hits the back of his tongue before he swallows.  He’s quick to grab the two glasses of water left on the small table beside the couch, offering one to his guest.

“What would you like me to call you?” Luhan asks after washing down the rest of the bad taste.  He’s expecting something fake, a name that stays in the shadows along with all their other less than savory activities.

“Sehun,” he answers immediately and the lack of hesitation leads Luhan to believe he was either prepared for the query or he answered honestly.  “And yours?”

The thing with emotions is that they tend to hit rather hard and very soon after being imbibed.  Luhan goes dizzy for a moment, reaching out to steady himself with a hand on couch, but he ends up wrapped in strong arms instead.  When he gazes up, blinking his vision clear, he sees the pink of Sehun’s mouth, the flush beginning on his cheeks.  Luhan’s heart skips a beat.  “Luhan,” he finally answers.

Sehun smiles and Luhan feels his throat constrict, his chest heavy and aching at the sight.  The world narrows, nothing else as important as the man holding him up.  “Luhan,” Sehun repeats in an almost whisper, his hand raising to sift through Luhan’s hair.  His fingers tug around the strands and Luhan’s head tips back.

When Sehun kisses him, Luhan is waiting for it, fingers balling in the front of his suit jacket as he stands on his toes.  The pressure of his mouth is hard, demanding and Luhan tilts his head just enough to run his tongue across Sehun’s lips before biting down on the supple flesh.  Sehun’s hand tightens in Luhan’s hair and he moans, the noise slipping between their mouths.

Luhan surges forward and then down when the backs of Sehun’s knees hit the couch and he buckles.  He lands in Sehun’s lap, thighs pressed together and his hands smoothing over the wrinkles he left in Sehun’s jacket.  Slowly, carefully, Luhan begins slipping the buttons of Sehun’s jacket through the holes until it falls open.  He keeps his eyes on Sehun, heart fluttering and his every nerve ending on edge for just a touch of Sehun against him.  Luhan sweeps his hands under the fabric and pushes it off Sehun’s shoulders, leaning back enough for Sehun to remove it and toss it aside.

Everyone experiences love in a different way.  Some are content with watching, looking without touching for fear of ruining their object of affection.  Others are rough, fingers bruising and demanding as they take what they want.  Sehun is different.  He touches Luhan reverently, leaving a spark under Luhan’s skin in the wake of his fingertips.  There’s a tenderness behind every move, every kiss pressed to Luhan’s mouth.

Sehun’s hands begin in Luhan’s hair and caress down his cheeks before cupping around his neck to drag him down for more.  Even the way he dips his tongue into Luhan’s mouth is soft, hesitant until Luhan provokes him to continue with a small whine that soon escalates into a moan when Sehun runs his hand up the back of Luhan’s shirt.

Luhan melts against Sehun, allows himself to fall forward because he knows Sehun is going to hold him, keep him grounded.  His mind is swimming and his insides are twisting and the only thing Luhan’s sure of is how much he never wants to stop kissing him.

As unfamiliar as Luhan is with Sehun, he finds a home in his arms and is filled with a pleasant happiness that thrums through his veins.  Sehun keeps touching him - fingers trailing up every knob of his spine and then down to push his lower back forward.  Luhan hisses into Sehun’s mouth, caught off guard but willing to go wherever Sehun leads.

It’s a gentle push and pull, a combination of desire and affection with a slight undercurrent of lust that guides their actions.  Luhan’s shirt ends up discarded with Sehun’s jacket and Sehun’s shirt is ed all the way down, Luhan’s hands roaming over exposed skin.  Every kiss is deeper, longer than the last until they blend together and Luhan fights to breathe.

But he doesn’t want to pull away.

Sehun’s large hands settle in the curve of Luhan’s hips, palms hot and nails pushing into skin just enough to send a tremor up Luhan’s spine.  He hunches forward, smiling when he feels Sehun’s lips curving upward against his own.  There’s a finesse in the way Sehun plucks at Luhan’s senses, has him chasing after a high whilst keeping his hands above the waist.  The frustration of being unable to see all of Sehun, however, isn’t enough to take away from the experience.

Luhan gasps when Sehun’s grip moves down, curling under his thighs to lift him.  His arms wind around Sehun’s shoulders to hold on until his back meets soft upholstery and Sehun settles over him.  “Better,” Sehun murmurs before leaning down to kiss him again, his lips wet and hot as they move from Luhan’s mouth to his neck.

Sehun is tall enough to cover Luhan completely, a thigh slipping between Luhan’s legs to keep him there.  Everything kind of melds together - Sehun’s hands, Sehun’s mouth, the roll of Sehun’s hips that starts slow and ends with Luhan digging nails into Sehun’s shoulder blades to pull him up for more.  It’s almost too much, his senses clouded and reduced to Sehun Sehun Sehun.

Luhan buries his face in Sehun’s neck, nosing along exposed skin for a place to bite down.  The pressure inside him coils tight, staccato breaths pushing through chapped lips as his body works to keep up.  Sehun lets out the softest of moans and Luhan answers with one of his own, Sehun’s name rolling off his tongue like it belongs there.

It’s a little rushed, but Luhan can’t stop, not when Sehun pushes his thigh up so Luhan can grind against it.  The heat builds fast, strong and Luhan is lost to it, lost to Sehun and the way he makes him feel.  Their mouths meet just as Luhan goes rigid and Sehun swallows down Luhan’s cry of pleasure and chases it with his own.  Luhan keeps a tight hold on him, lazily rocking against Sehun until Sehun goes limp.

Sehun peers down at Luhan with his lower lip in his teeth and his face pink and shining with sweat.  Luhan can’t help the small laugh that escapes and Sehun laughs with him, dropping his weight until his nose is pressed just under Luhan’s ear.

They lay together quietly, fingers laced and their eyes locked on each other.  Sehun is warmth, light, the person who makes him feel whole and when that begins to fade, Luhan tries to ignore the gnawing in his heart.

The aftermath of love is never pleasant, the body trying to compensate for such a strong emotion that came on suddenly and the crash leaves Luhan exhausted.  Sehun peels away when it wears off enough for the awkwardness to set it.  Two strangers tangled together on a couch after making out and frotting like a couple of teenagers is entirely different when there’s no love in the mix.

Sehun can’t get out of the room fast enough, jacket draped over the front of his slacks and his shirt rebuttoned without being tucked in.  He gives Luhan a mumbled thanks before the door clicks shut behind him.  With a sigh, Luhan lifts himself off the cushions and runs fingers through his tangled hair.  Maybe taking that last customer wasn’t such a great idea after all.

Luhan is sluggish, listless as he pulls himself together.  Rays of sunlight start running in lines through the curtains and onto the floor, disappearing only when Luhan leaves them behind.  He begins to wonder if he’s even capable of real love anymore, his heart left hollow now that the drug has worn off.

He passes Chanyeol on the way out, giving him a tired wave as Luhan goes home and Chanyeol begins the morning shift.  “Good morning,” Chanyeol greets jovially.

Luhan yawns and pats him on the back.  “Good night.”

Luhan doesn’t give his customers a second thought once they’re out the door, detaching as soon as their time is up.  If he didn’t, he’d be a mess.  Forming bonds with people coming in because they can’t get their fix of happiness on their own can leave a person broken inside.  It happened to Joonmyun and Luhan is still trying to tape those pieces back together even after three years.

But for some reason, he thinks about Sehun.  He doesn’t ponder over what he’s doing or who he’s with or even how he might be like as a person, but rather what it was that drove him into a shop like this for a taste of love.  He seemed put together, probably from money if his suit was anything to go on and people like that tend to put up a wall between themselves and the world.

It’s a curiosity that has him spacing out between customers as he doodles on a notepad behind the register.  He thinks about their brief encounter and then pushes it away, letting his pen drop and then his head.  It’s no use dwelling on something he’ll never know the answer to.

So when Sehun comes walking through the door a week after their evening together, Luhan gives pause to stare at him as Zitao greets him pleasantly.

“I’m actually here for Luhan,” Sehun says directly to Luhan and Zitao politely bows out of the conversation.

“What may I interest you in today?” Luhan begins, shuffling out of the way so Sehun can get a view of the shelves and the labels.

Sehun steps up to the counter and Luhan blinks, a little taken aback at the intense look being directed at him.  “I’m not here as a customer.”

“Oh.”  The beginnings of something Luhan hasn’t felt genuinely in a long time flutters in his stomach.

“Would you be interested in a proper date?” Sehun asks and Luhan’s eyes widen noticeably.  “With me,” Sehun adds as an afterthought and Luhan laughs.

It’s been years since Luhan’s gone out with someone, let alone a someone as attractive as Sehun.  He’s nearly forgotten what it’s like to do more than eat, sleep and work.  “I’d like that,” Luhan answers after a moment, deciding that one date can’t possibly hurt.

Sehun smiles and he seems to relax, rocking back on his heels, but just as quickly, it fades away.  “I should warn you that I’m not a nice person,” Sehun divulges freely.  “I’ve been told I’m a cold-hearted bastard more times than I can count.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of going on a date with you?”

“I just want you to know what you may be getting yourself into,” he explains with a small shrug, his fingers curled tight around the bottom of his sleeves.

Luhan reaches over the counter, taking Sehun’s hand and slipping his fingers into the grooves between Sehun’s knuckles before squeezing.  “Every relationship has to start somewhere.”

Sehun smiles and Luhan’s heart gives a traitorous throb.  Perhaps Sehun is the cure for Luhan’s cynicism and perhaps not, but it’s a chance Luhan’s willing to take.