Why were the rich the absolute scummiest, pompous, most vile creatures to ever exist? He couldn't stand them.

Which was ironic for Eren Jaeger to think so, considering he technically was one of them.

Okay not technically, he most definitely was. His parents lived in an affluent gated neighborhood with a giant house, their own swimming pool and pool house, had a shower made entirely of granite, regularly played recreational golf and went to hunting ranges, and worried about things like whether or not they had a set of diamonds to go with every outfit or if they were going to outlive all of their money. Eren had received things such as a boat or the latest model RV for his past birthdays, one to go with both of the ones his parents owned. He had never wanted for anything, and of course he wouldn't with two doctors for parents. They had been kind of enough to pay his way through the best private schools and colleges for him, both for his undergrad and his master's. And it was lucky that they had helped him land a job so soon after he had completed his master's.

However, this wasn't enough for Eren, because even though he was spoiled, and he knew himself to be spoiled though he loathed it, he wasn't spoiled rotten. In fact, he was quite the opposite. Once he had gone out into the world when he started his undergrad, he realized there were so many people that had it so much harder than he and his family and friends did, and he knew then and there that he wanted to use his good fortune to help them. But he didn't hold an interest in healing the body as Carla and Grisha Jeager did. Rather, he found the way the mind worked to be most fascinating; how sensitive it was, and yet how durable it could be. How complex it was, and how one neuron out of place could alter a person's behavior drastically. How the human brain received all the neurons it would need for its entire life at birth, and how the body could repair every kind of cell except for brain cells.

But most of all what fascinated him was the myriad of mental disorders that humans were capable of having. The more complex and frightening the disorder, the more Eren seemed to be attracted to it. He already had an undergrad degree in Psychology, and a master's in counselling, he knew he wanted to go all the way and get his doctorate so that he could become a psychiatrist. And he also knew that he wanted to focus particularly on schizoid disorders, such as schizophrenia and schizoaffective. These mental health issues fascinated him the most because to him, they were the scariest; an illness that preyed on every single sense and altered a person's perception of the world. Not even their thoughts were safe, scrambled and disjointed as they were. Their personality was destroyed by their own paranoid or grandiose thoughts, never allowing people to get to know the real them and just acquainting them with their illness instead.

Eren had been surprised to learn that even though schizophrenia had the worse reputation, it was in fact schizoaffective disorder that seemed to be the more devastating one. This was because it was schizophrenia that often accompanied a mood disorder. It meant that a person with this disease heard soft voices when things were quiet and calm, and then heard those same voices at a fever pitch when they were upset or scared. An illness that waxed and waned with one's emotions, that was so unpredictable, with hallucinations, whether auditory or visual, were never pleasant and ranged from mildly disturbing to horrific, sent shiver's up Eren's spine, and that was why he knew he had to know everything about it.

The boy was a hard worker too, very dedicated to his studies. Stayed up hours into the night poring over books and articles, trying to be as well read and prepared as he could be for all of his classes. The amount of time it would take to obtain his degree, four years getting his M.D and another four with residency at a therapist's office with a particular focus on psychiatry, didn't faze him. His friends often said he was too dedicated, didn't get a night to relax. Funny they said that, because Eren thought they relaxed far too much. They came from wealthy families as well, and acted like they didn't have a care in the world, so quick to gallivant around and spend their money, even in their late twenties as they all were, because they knew all they'd have to do is ask their parents for more, or make it up by putting an extra hour or two into the law firms or real estate offices where they worked. The young man loved all them deep down, but he also thought they were ridiculously foolish and selfish, sometimes. Often times they were just concerned about the money they would obtain from a transaction and not whether or not they were actually helping their clients.

His friend Jean said for years that ever since Eren had declared what he wanted to do for his career and threw himself into school that he had become far too uptight, and perhaps that was true; Eren couldn't remember the last time he had taken his nose out of a computer screen or book and instead looked at the sky, or the ocean, or the woods. He had forgotten what it was like to relax, or be free. Yes, he loved what he was studying, but it had also been years since he had had a decent night's sleep or loosened up and gone out for reasons that didn't relate to making connections at several different therapists' offices. Maybe that was why Jean had finally hit his breaking point over Eren this particular year. His friend was twenty six years old, in his second year of obtaining his M.D, a bright, educated, ambitious, and handsome young man.

An almost doctor yes, but Eren was shockingly naïve and uneducated about other aspects of the world. Namely, the more adult side to life. While Jean had had many flings and bedded many people, Eren had none, having little interest in dating outside of a few casual ones that he abandoned after his dates had bored him or he didn't see them going anywhere. He was innocent to the point that Jean wondered if Eren even jerked off, though his friend vehemently insisted he wasn't that much of a prude, and if Jean wasn't careful he'd replace his morning cup of mouthwash with jizz to prove it.

That seemed to scare him off, at least, for the time being. It was clear that Jean was still planning on breaking Eren's innocence another way, and his friend's birthday seemed to be a great opportunity to do so.

"Would you please just fucking tell me where we're going?" Eren asked from the passenger's side of Jean's car, voice flat with irritation.

Jean shook his head, the street lamps passing by over their heads the only thing that illuminated the motion of his head in the black of the night. "Can't being saying, that would ruin the birthday boy's surprise."

"Is my surprise you taking me into a back alley tossing me into the pathway of the hitman you've hired to kill me, because that's the only kind of place I could imagine us going at ten at night in the pitch dark," Eren grumbled.

The other man sighed. "Eren you fucking nerd, ten o' clock is not late."

"It is when you want to get up at six in the morning to watch your professor's lecture on the theory of"- Eren started, but Jean cut him off.

"No, no talking about school, I swear to God, or I'll toss you out the window and you can land on the windshield of that eighteen wheeler behind us," he growled. "It's your birthday, I'm going to get you to loosen the fuck up and do all the rest of us a favor. You can put off homework for this one night, okay? Just trust me when I say you need this, you'll have a good time, and since it's your birthday I'll pay for everything so you're not put out at all."

Eren sighed heavily and crossed his arms. He figured he didn't have anything to lose, he supposed. Besides, no matter where they were going, Jean was at least being nice enough to pay for him, and since this was technically a birthday gift, he at least owed it to him to at least see where he was taking him.

"Fine," the boy gave in, "Do your worst."

Jean laughed, "Oho, trust me, for once when it comes to you, I'm doing my very best. Pulling out all the stops on this one. You'll be thanking me for years after this, trust me."

Eren doubted it, but didn't voice his thoughts. Jean's idea of a good time often took the boy lightyears out of his comfort zone, and he usually needed a few days to recover before he felt normal again. Sometimes he never recovered; bungie jumping with Jean, despite nothing having gone wrong from the experience, still had left him scared of high places to this day.

However, even when they eventually pulled into a parking lot, Eren still couldn't tell exactly where they were; they had pulled around back so he couldn't see the sign at the entrance that gave away the building's identity. Though, it certainly didn't look like a place for bungie jumping, since they were in the middle of downtown. What he could see of the building though was massive, towering over their heads, and even from the back it was smooth, sleek, and there was evident craftsmanship on every corner. It almost looked like it was trying to be vintage but modern at the same time, and the combination was intriguing. He could only imagine what it looked like inside.

Speaking of…

"Why is there music blasting?" Eren said, having to raise his voice a bit even outside, "I could hear it before we even pulled up."

Jean got out of the car and just told him, "You'll see, be patient."

But patience was the last thing on the boy's mind. The music was pounding through his entire body, and noises that were too loud set him on edge, especially when he was already stressed. If Jean made him deaf tonight, there'd be hell to pay. He slid out of his seat and once he was standing by the car, he shut the door. Eren followed Jean, craning his neck to try and catch a glimpse of some kind of clue that might let him in on where exactly they were. However, so far there was nothing.

At least, until Jean lead them around to the front of the building, his shit eating grin and cocky walk in place, looking as if he was leading Eren up to the gates of heaven.

Perhaps he thought he was.

When they circled to the front of the building, Eren was confronted by several new stimuli. First of all, the lights on the back of the building were nothing compared to how bright these lights were here. They were so bright in fact that it was difficult to miss them within a mile in any direction, screaming to the public without noise, commanding their attention. It was the same case with the music, not quieting down in the slightest when they walked towards the front doors. There was also quite the line out front, every single person dressed nice, but not professionally so. Thank goodness, Eren thought, because the button down he was wearing was definitely not the fanciest thing he owned.

But lastly, the thing that caught Eren's attention the most was the huge sign, easily almost half the size of his father's six car garage, which read in sparkling gold, blinding letters: The Dollhouse.

Eren bristled and swelled with rage, for he recognized the name of this place, having heard it dropped several times among his peers during his graduate years.

"You brought me to a fucking strip club!?" he exclaimed, rounding on Jean.

"Shh!" Jean raised his hands in a placating fashion. "No, you dumbass, do you really think I would bring you to some cheap piece of shit strip club? This is a gentlemen's club, okay?"

Eren rolled his eyes straight into the heavens. "Oh yes, because that's so much different."

"You'd know the difference if you ever put your books down and bothered to take an interest."

"Well, are there girls taking their clothes off?"

"Yes."

"Then it's a strip club, dumbass. I'm not watching that immoral, nasty crap. Thanks but no thanks, I'm out of here."

"Eren." Jean hastily ran around to stand in front of him, placing his hands on his shoulders to stop his angry retreat back towards the car. He pushed against him for a minute, but when he saw that Jean's strength matched his own, he stopped. Besides, the look his friend was giving him was genuine, and he even if what he said next wouldn't change anything, he supposed he should at least hear him out.

"I mean it," Jean explained, "This place is different. I've gone to some of the cheaper clubs, and this place is nothing like those. This place is made for our crowd, by our crowd. You have to be making at least six figures to be able to afford to get in, and you have to know certain people. It's not easy, and I had to pull a lot of strings to get them to consider letting me in at first, and then even more when I asked to bring a friend. They give their customers the best, and the um…entertainment, it's honestly more like watching a show play out on stage. They spare no expense and turn this kind of thing into an all-encompassing experience. It's a once in a lifetime deal, and you won't regret it."

Eren still hesitated, muscles quivering with the urge to go back to the car. But Jean finished with, "Come on, Eren. I've been your friend for, what, ten years now? You know me, and I know you. Do you really think I'd take you someplace I know you'd get absolutely zero enjoyment out of? We're already here, anyway. Besides, so few people get to see the inside of this place…why not check it out and see what the fuss is about? Just one time, and then you never have to go back here again if you don't want to."

With those words, the boy had to admit, his curiosity was piqued, just the tiniest bit. He looked over his shoulder back at the big, shining building with its music still pulsing through him. The song had even switch from something that grated on his nerves to something slightly more appealing. And besides, he supposed he owed it to Jean since he had jumped through all of those hoops to get Eren in there. He sighed deeply, and leaned away from his friend's hands, finally giving in. "Okay. Just one time."

Jean's face split into a blinding grin. "That's my man! I mean it Eren, I think once you get into the groove of the place, you're going to enjoy it more than you'll let on. Maybe you'll finally be able to figure out your deal too."

As his friend began walking back towards the line to stand in it, Eren followed him, asking, "My deal?"

"Yeah, your deal." He slung an arm around Eren's shoulders, whispering conspiratorially, "You know, guys, girls? You've dated both, haven't you? Which is it?"

Eren pushed him off. "Does it matter?" Those relationships hadn't lasted long anyway, barely a month in most cases as his infatuation with the other person fizzled out quickly. He had kissed all of them, made out with most of them, but in his mind any desire was superficial. He hadn't hopped in bed with any of them, for example, and he wondered if something was wrong with him since he never felt the desire to. Was he broken, maybe? Every other man he knew his age seemed to have an insatiable sex drive, while his never seemed to rise above lukewarm, toasty if he was lucky. But no, he didn't find the idea of sex repulsive; there were just things he found more important lately. After copious research, using his school's databases and even consulting one or two of his most trusted colleagues, Eren had concluded he just hadn't found the person he wanted to have sex with yet.

"Yes it does!" Jean emphasized. "Come on Eren, you have so much going for you, you need to get hitched! Or at least laid. If you can figure out what you like, I think it'll reduce a lot of the stress in your life. I mean, they do say jerking off is a great way to relieve stress, now imagine if you had someone to do that for you"-

"Okay, okay," Eren hissed, looking around to make sure no one had heard them. They hadn't, and much to his surprise when he listened, he heard some men having similar conversations. Well, what else did he expect in a place like this. But there it was, the real reason Jean had brought him here. "Listen, even if I was a sex maniac like you, I'm still not going to find anyone in there that I'm going to want to sleep with. Ever."

Jean laughed to himself. "You say that now, but wait until you get a look at the girls. I'm telling you, the manager has very high standards when it comes to the looks of his dancers, and they all have to fit a certain ideal in order to work here. He doesn't just pick random cheap garbage from the street. There's a reason it's called The Dollhouse, trust me."

Eren decided not to push the issue any further. Instead, he remained quiet for their remaining time line, right up until they were admitted into the club after security recognized Jean. But when they passed through those grand, carved wooden doors, the only sound that came out of Eren was a gasp of awe.

Now he had been to many fancy places where the money clearly oozed from every pore of the building. But this? The money wasn't oozing, it was typhooning from every direction, bowling him over with no expense spared on every inch of wall, floor, ceiling and everywhere in between. Eren felt as if he had stepped from the night and straight inside the sun itself. While most clubs were cramped and dark, this one was wide open and full of light. The overwhelming color scheme of the club was gold with white accents. And these colors helped to decorate the Victorian styled interior, everything looking like it was taken straight from the late 1800s, but with modern finishes. There were tables scattered about the floor in front of a grand stage that jut right in the middle of all of the tables, forming a kind of catwalk. The accents about the state were of cherubs and plump cheeked children playing, as well as flowers and bows. It surprisingly in some areas looked like it belonged in a little girl's room, and Eren supposed that was the point. Many walls shone like that of a porcelain doll, and above all else, there were pictures of dolls all over the building. The curtains on the stage were layered, from what Eren could see, much like an old petticoat, with white lace as well as deep red.

"Come on, I see some tables open by the stage," Jean prompted, pulling him out of his stupor. He let his friend guide him through the low light spilling down from the floral accented light fixtures above them. The light even shone on the mahogany tables, and Eren let himself be led to one that sat right near the end of the catwalk.

"This is a really good spot," Jean assured him as they sat down. "The stage isn't too far away, and when the girls come down off the catwalk, they usually hop off the end there and go to the first few tables near it. So they'll come to us first."

Eren tilted his head. "Wait, they come off the stage and walk around the tables?"

"Well yeah. It's a way for them to get extra tips. With so many of the tables so far away, not everyone can throw their money on the stage, you know. And there's not a lot people here tonight anyway."

Eren scanned the tables, and indeed, there were no more than thirty people there at the moment, most of them men of course that were around their age, though there were quite a few white heads in the audience as well. There was also even a small group of ladies off to one side, laughing amongst themselves. "I wonder why?" he said aloud after a bit.

Jean explained, "Well, it is a Thursday night. Normally on the weekends it's way busier than this. And the only reason it's lit so well right now is because they're between dances at the moment, like an intermission. The rest of the girls will be up soon, and if we're lucky, Jouet still hasn't gone on."

Eren raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Jouet," Jean repeated. "He's essentially the manager's pearl, and the longest working dancer at the Dollhouse. I'm almost certain that's not his real name, but I haven't heard another name used for him, so maybe it is. But he never seems to have a set schedule, he just kinda performs when he feels like it. But he performs way fewer days than he used when I first started coming here. I guess the manager likes him that much that he lets him set his own hours."

The boy looked flabbergasted as he replied, "Wait, Jouet is a guy?"

"Yes, Eren, pay attention," Jean sighed. "Besides, even if you don't swing that way, most of the men in here don't either, and they still find him entertaining. I certainly do. He's just as pretty as the girls, in my opinion. And while the girls here are gorgeous, there's something about him that pulls even straight men under his spell and makes them throw their money at him…I can't explain it, just know that there's no use holding onto your wallet if he decides to come to your table."

His friend looked dubious. Honestly, Eren didn't feel that strongly for guys or girls, and he doubted a few flirtatious harlots, no matter what the gender or how beautiful they were, were going to make Eren take out his wallet and stuff money down their skirts. But still, he'd be happy to be proven wrong. With how much this place had impressed him so far, he'd certainly like to enjoy the other aspects of it.

With Jean's ominous warning still hanging in the air, suddenly the lights dimmed, electrifying the air around them. Eren sat up a little straighter while Jean scooted to the edge of his seat in anticipation. Eren looked as if he was waiting for a bomb to go off, his body tense and his hand clenched into a fist on the table while his leg jiggled where they sat.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice spoken into a microphone said from somewhere off stage, "Welcome back after that brief intermission. I hope you're all settled in because you won't want to miss what's coming. First, you know her, you love her, and from what she tells me, you love her pretty eyes and strawberry red lips even more. Longtime comers and new patrons alike, please welcome Lola!"

With that, a spotlight appeared on the stage, and from behind the curtain stepped a tiny young lady with the prettiest colored hair Eren had ever seen. It was strawberry blond, perfect for her pretty brown eyes. The dress she was wearing was in Lolita styled fashion, pastel pink with lace and bows accenting it. Her hair was styled into ringlets, and when she twirled, Eren could see that the back was open all the way down to her waist. What shocked him the most was that this petite young lady, with her tight ringlets and generous blush and bright red lips, looked just like a doll come to life.

And when she moved, all soft and slow with the soft, sensuous music, the illusion was only heightened. No wonder this club had the name it did. This was the kind of crowd this place was aiming to attract, men who like their men to look like pretty little dolls they could either take care of and pamper, or judging by the glint in some of the men's eyes, as well as their predatory smiles, break and destroy. Lola moved about the stage innocently, looking through her eyelashes, dancing in a way that was clearly choreographed and practiced for hours, as if she once had been a professional gymnast or a ballet dancer. If that was the case, he wondered what happened in her life to land her here.

The way she twisted and twirled on stage was so much different than Eren expected. Many years ago, he had gone to a cheaper club near campus during his freshman year with a group of friends, and he girls he had watched dance had seemed to all apply the same dance moves that involved just spreading their legs, grabbing at their breasts and crotches, and shaking their asses at the crowd. Which granted, that seemed to turn some men on, but this style of dancing was much more intriguing to Eren, much more teasing. Offering the men a glimpse by lifting her skirt or pulling down the shoulder of her dress for an instant with a coy smile, before lifting it right back up again. It made the men pant and whistle around him, some that were close to the stage reaching for her as she passed by. Even Jean was catcalling her, asking her to lift her dress again, or "shake things up" a bit more. Eren gripped the arm of his chair. Far from being turned on by the display, there was something in him that wanted to protect the girl on stage instead; she seemed so small and innocent, her smile flirty yes, but also kind.

When she hopped off the stage, she dropped the outer layer of the skirt of her dress to reveal a much shorter skirt, one where if she bent over, it'd all too easy to see the lacey underwear she was wearing underneath. But evidently this drove the other men wild, especially when she began weaving through the tables, stopping at some to lift one leg onto the arm of one man's chair, showing off her thin but rosy thigh. The man stuffed a few dollar bills into her garter belt, petting her thigh with color high in his cheeks as he left.

She came over to their table next, running her fingers through Jean's hair and smiling sweetly at him. She then turned around so he could run his fingers down her bare back, and he did so with pleasure, a soft, "Damn Lola," escaping his lips. When he placed his dollar bills in the low back of her dress and tried to dip his fingers down further, Eren sat up abruptly, hissing, "Jean! Don't make her uncomfortable!"

Jean just rolled his eyes. "Don't be such a prude, Eren."

Before he could retort something scathing, Lola left Jean and went over to Eren, stroking his face. Eren froze, unsure what to do, or what she was going to do. Her perfume was settling around them like a cloud, but it wasn't overpowering; soft and subtle, like she was. But all she said with the utmost kindness in her gaze was, "You're sweet. It's okay though. Thank you for worrying about me, hon."

She trailed a finger down his arm and began to pull away, but before she could, Eren called out, "Wait!" When she paused and turned around, she hastily pulled a fifty out of his wallet and handed it to her, figuring he at least owed her that much for her sincerity. When she left, Jean was still exasperated, but at least seemed pleased Eren had at least paid her something. He was willing to play the game in the club, at least.

After Lola hopped back on stage, she finished the remainder of her routine, and when the music cut out, she bowed, and then collected the remainder of the money and even a bouquet of roses that had been tossed onto the stage. She blew a few kisses to the crowd, before disappearing behind the curtain in a flutter of lace and bows.

The crowd began to chatter among themselves, obviously still reeling after Lola's performance. Jean turned to Eren and griped, "You know Eren, you need to learn to be a little less of a bleeding heart. Don't feel bad for these girls, alright? They don't mind the attention we give them. If they did, they wouldn't be here."

Eren sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. "I know, but still. It's hard to be turned on though when you just feel bad for these girls. I know they want to be here, but still."

"You're too soft for your own good, man," Jean told him, his expression not as hard now, "And that's awesome for your career choice, but you have to learn how to switch it off."

He knew it would be a waste of time to try and explain to him that unless you were a sociopath, it was impossible to simply turn off one's ability to feel bad for someone else.

After a few minutes to allow the stagehands to adjust the props behind the curtain, the voice from before spoke into the microphone once more. "Ladies and gentlemen, though I emphasize the ladies, in this case. You are in for a treat, because our pearl is finally coming out of his oyster to entertain all of you tonight."

The air changed in the club abruptly, going from playful and rosy after Lola's performance, to something darker and more intense. The lights dimmed considerably until it was almost pitch black, and the sudden silence had Eren on edge. He gripped the arms of his chair a little tighter, and he heard Jean say from beside him, "Aw hell yeah here we go."

The speaker continued, "Put your hands together in a huge round of applause for our very own precious porcelain doll, Jouet!"

Rather than sashaying out from behind the curtain like how Lola had, the curtain this time lifted to reveal yet another tiny, slim figure silhouetted against the faint glow of purple light behind it. From what Eren could see, it was wearing a hat, but other than that, everything else was obscured. The figure was completely still, however, not moving a muscle.

That is, until the spotlight was shone on him, throwing the figure in harsh, bright lighting, the moment the music began blaring.

Jouet had his face turned to the side and bowed, the brim of his hat obscuring the top half of his face, but what Eren could see of the bottom half was pale and sharp. Everything he wore was black, which helped obscure his features even more when the lights had been off. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his black shirt contrasting with his milky skin. The moment the music began blasting, he began tapping his heel to the beat.

Sure she got a body like an hourglass

But I can give it to you all the time

The beat kicked in again, and he whipped his head to the other side, gripping the brim of his hand, still not letting the audience see his face.

Sure she got a booty like a Cadillac

But I can send you into overdrive

When the song shifted into the next verse, the figure spun around, turning his back to the audience, and began moving his shoulders to the beat instead. He moved in fits and starts, though those moves matched the beat and were very coordinated. His body seemed to be as taut as Eren's, a livewire waiting to go off as the dancer set the suspense higher and higher the longer he went without revealing his face.

Bang bang into the room

Bang bang all over you

He finally whipped around, lifting the rim of his hat to the cheers of the crowd, a smile very similar to Lola's on his face, though his was less flirty and more like he knew exactly what kind of power he held over his captive audience, and that thought turned him on. And as soon as the light illuminated his face and he began his confident strut down the catwalk, Eren became aware of several things.

Firstly, Jouet was indeed just as pretty as Lola had been. His features were certainly quite delicate in some places, his dark eyes were large, his lips small and glistening with what looked like gloss. However his jawline was sharp and angled harshly, and his chin was pointed. Jet black hair framed his face, some of it hanging in front of his eyes under his hat. Looking further down, even under his clothes too Eren could see that he was fit. His thighs were thick and his calves pushed against his pants, and yet he still managed to look slender and small. Vulnerable and strong at the same time, night and day, but still mingling together perfectly to create this splendid, savage little delicate creature with a face as harsh and beautiful as winter itself.

Second, watching the way he moved affected Eren in a way that Lola's performance hadn't. When she had gone on stage, Eren had wanted to protect her, almost like a brother might protect his sister, or a friend might protect his female friends when she has garnered unwanted male attention. But looking at Jouet, at the way his hips rolled and rocked, at the way he teasingly turned around and slapped himself on the rear to make the tight muscles shiver in the artificial light, at the way he embraced the music, let it consume him make his feet light yet powerful, stomping in time with the punchy beats, the way he tossed his head and let it roll back to expose his creamy throat…it had Eren on the edge of his seat, as if Jouet was physically pulling him forward.

Third and finally, when he dropped to the floor of the stage and splayed out on it, thrusting his hips coyly into the air and stroking the inside of his own thighs, tilting his head back to look at the audience while biting his lip, Eren knew that something in him had shifted, changed, and more surprisingly, he didn't have any desire to change it back. His muscles loosened deliciously, and he felt a foreign spark settle deep into his belly and make its home there. The longer he stared at the pretty little dancer, the more it burned, curling at the base of his spine and sizzling slowly all the way up, making its way to the base of his skull like a wick burning its way to a stick of dynamite. When the explosion hit him, it traveled first into his face, creating a humid veil of heat around his forehead and cheeks, and then downwards, stroking between his thighs and filling his cock, making it throb so suddenly so harshly that he gasped in surprise and crossed his legs, shocked by his own reaction. He felt he should look over at Jean to see if he noticed, but more than half of his brain had forgotten Jean even existed, or that there was anyone else in the performance hall at all. At that moment, it was just him and Jouet, the siren singing a song with his body that only the boy pretended he could hear and appreciate.

When the rapping part of the song began, Jouet slid off of the stage and wandered over to the table with the women sitting at it, and Eren watched as they began chortling and clapping with delight as he got closer and closer. They all pointed to one of their friends and without hesitation, the dancer laughed and began giving her an impromptu lap dance, rolling his hips in time with the beat. He finished off by flipping around and shaking his ass over the girl's knees, which prompted her to stick a few bills into his belt. He then went over to another table, zeroing in on the man that sat there that seemed to hold the most interest in him, and played with his suspenders while seductively running his tongue over his upper lip. He was given several more dollar bills, many of which were stuffed into his pockets, and when he left the table, one man reached over and gave him a parting slap to the ass that left Jouet laughing at his boldness.

The lyrics to the song vaguely began to filter back into Eren's consciousness as he desperately looked for something to focus on rather than Jouet, feeling rather rude as he stared at him with the same intensity of a cat watching a bird outside of a window. And it was at the same moment that the singer belted out, See anybody could be good to you, you need a bad girl to blow your mind and faded for a brief second that seemed to last forever that Jouet turned the tables as he began scanning the room, and his own predatory gaze happened to land right square on Eren. He took half a second to size up the young man, and seeing the flush in his cheeks and the tenseness in his shoulders, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had captured his eye completely. He was practically craning his whole body to try and get a better look at him.

Well, Jouet decided, he was rather cute. Really cute, actually. Yes, this would be interesting. It was rare that a customer came into the club that he found somewhat attractive, and he planned to take full advantage while he had the chance.

Eren froze as, when the music blasted again, Jouet began a slow, purposeful strut over to his and Jean's table, eyes glinting wickedly. To the boy's delight, he completely ignored Jean and instead stopped in front him. He dropped to his knees, grinning with delight when he caught the shocked look on Eren's face. He placed his hands on Eren's knees, before running just the tips of his fingers up between his thighs, moving closer and closer to that heat pooling at the center; he could practically feel the warmth radiating in waves, could almost smell the boy's arousal as surely as he could see it. Looking over, he saw that Eren was clutching the edges of his chair in a white knuckled grip, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in awe. He looked like he was torn between pushing further into his touch and leaping out of the chair. Jouet chuckled, low and dark, before he rose to his feet slowly. He leaned over Eren, who leaned back, swallowing visibly. At this angle though he could see that Jouet's face was just as beautiful up close as it was far away, and though his body was slender, it was still firm and strong, muscles flexing underneath his thin shirt. And oh, he smelled so good, fresh and crisp, like pine tree after rain. He filled all of Eren's senses in that moment, became his every thought and made his body as taut as a bowstring.

He kept leaning forward, and Eren wondered for a brief moment if he was going to kiss him, but no, he bypassed his lips, and nosed towards the boy's ear. Eren felt the rush of cool air as Jouet blew softly on the shell of his ear, sending goosebumps exploding on every inch of Eren's skin while his palms sweated and heat licked up and down his spine. The boy gasped at the sensation.

But then Jouet was backing away, grinning flirtatiously, but expectantly. However, Eren's mind had completely blue screened, and there was no way he was going to be able to get it to function again for several minutes. So, Jean, who had been wolf whistling in encouragement the whole time, did the work for Eren, reaching over and taking all of the remaining bills out of Eren's wallet, before handing them to his friend. Robotically, the boy handed them to the dancer, vaguely noticing that he was giving him around six hundred dollars but paying it no mind. He deserved it and so much more, Eren thought.

"Thanks sweetheart," Jouet said with a wink, purposefully dragging his pointer finger against Eren's wrist as he pulled his hand away. The touch sent a metaphorical spark that zipped all the way up the boy's arm. With a wicked smirk, he took his hat off his head and set it on Eren's, laughing at the flabbergasted look on the boy's face. His eyes were wide and his mouth was agape, and the dancer couldn't resist closing his jaw with his pointer finger. "Careful, you'll inhale a fly if you do that."

Too stunned to reply, the boy watched as he sashayed away, before leaping back up onto the stage just as the music reached its crescendo and became more intense. Jouet twisted his body in ways that were so smooth and yet so intense, owning the song and telling it who was boss, as well as the audience. He was so gorgeous in how much he was enjoying himself, feminine and teasing rather than treating the performance like a power trip like so many other male dancers Eren had seen, and that was one of the major factors that had him so enraptured.

When the lines Bang bang there goes your heart blasted over the speakers, Jouet made a gun with his fingers and pretended to shoot at Eren's chest, narrowing his eyes playfully as he did so. The boy reflexively clutched at his chest in return, grinning up at the dancer nervously. Jouet smiled back in approval, before turning slightly and doing the same thing to another patron at another table, the one who had spanked him before.

When the song finally finished, Jouet froze in his final pose, until the audience began to clap and cheer, throwing several dollar bills of sizable value on the stage. He bowed, before collecting them all and disappearing with a final wave behind the curtain.

Eren was still panting, unable to believe what had just happened. Jouet had gone just as quickly as he had come, as if he had never been there at all, Eren's red face and straining pants the only proof he had seen him. On the edges of his hearing, he heard Jean laughing like a madman, slapping his knee in his mirth.

"You should see your fucking face, you are so gone right now," he was wheezing, "Oh my God you looked like you were going to shit your pants when he blew in your ear!"

Eren couldn't even find it in him to retort. He was right after all. He just huffed and crossed his arms, his red face answer enough.

Jean wiped away a tear, finally getting over himself long enough to ask, "So, worth it right? Best birthday you ever had, you think?"

He so badly wanted to say no, to keep his pride, and tell Jean where he could shove his offer. But…Jouet's face flashed through his mind, and his laugh rang through his ears, and him calling him "sweetheart" in that deep, lovely voice of his had his stomach doing all sorts of somersaults. Jean was right, he was so gone, lightyears away at the moment, mind instead fixed on a pretty dancer with the nicest smile and most gorgeous pair of thighs and the cutest ass Eren had ever laid eyes on. He finally took the hat off his head and held it tightly in his hands, contemplating it, and trying to resist holding it to his nose.

"Yeah, fine, whatever I guess," he finally answered, trying to sound nonchalant, but failing to his friend's experienced ear. He ignored Jean's guffawing in favor of staring back up at the stage and the curtain where Jouet had disappeared.

Bang bang there goes your heart indeed.

000

The dancer all but sprinted back to his dressing room after his performance was over, anxiety immediately climbing up his throat so fast that it almost choked him. The moment the music had stopped, they had started speaking to him again.

But why, why now? The anxiety and silence always made it worse. The instant that music stopped and he was alone again, the whispering began in his ears. He shut the door behind him, trying to busy himself with getting his clothes and makeup off. If he stayed calm, if he ignored the whispers, sometimes it helped.

But not this time.

Worthless, worthless, one taunted.

Don't bother trying to ignore us, you know what you did, said another.

Look at him, undressing. Pathetic, a waste of space, another growled, Just lay down and die, whore.

"I'm not," he muttered, "I hear you. I hear you, I hear you, but I don't want to anymore. I liked it better when you weren't here."

He heard cackling on the edge of his hearing that made him whip his head around. He hated that laugh, always heard it right as he was drifting off at night, and it always pulled him harshly out of his relaxed state and had him laying awake for hours in his pitch black room, anticipating the next round of laughter. He heard it again, that taunting giggle, and he shivered with unease, forcing his shirt over his head and trying to ignore the goosebumps on his arms.

I liked it better when you weren't here, I liked it better when you weren't here, the voices all said, overlaying and overlapping. He scrubbed at his ears, as if he could silence them that way. Of course, they continued. Good for you. Well go on, you disgusting slut, let's see it. Everyone else in the world has seen it already."

"They haven't. I'm not a slut," he insisted, pulling down his pants and pointedly refusing to look down at his crotch. "I'm not, I'm not." But the insult kept ringing in his head, causing his heart to pound, harder and harder with each passing minute.

That's rich, one voice said, What about those girls you grinded on at the table? What about that boy with the green meadow eyes?

Surprised you didn't fuck him in front of everyone, taunted another, Wouldn't have put it past you. Aren't demons supposed to be whores anyway? You're just living up to your nature.

The dancer growled, "Shut up. Shut up shut up. He's different. You're scared of him, I can tell. He wasn't like the others."

It won't make a difference. You'll still destroy him. Infect him. Destroy that innocence, and give what's left of his corpse to the devil, won't you?

"No," he insisted, though his resistance was weakening, "N-No, no. I'll leave his light alone. His light…it was so pretty. He was all lit up, like a star. That's why you hate him. He's different."

We're not scared, but you should be.

He turned on the water for the shower, and for a brief moment, the sound of the water hitting the tile drowned out the noise, leaving that final threat hanging in the air. But the dancer was right; the voices had more reason to be afraid at the moment than he did. For when he approached that green-eyed boy, a soft light seemed to be emitting from him, a light that repelled the darkness that perpetually seeped out of his pores and infected those he touched, and those he even stood near. Normally he didn't care about the vile people in the club getting infected, but this boy…he couldn't. There was something about him, something too pure, too sweet and light and warm for him to comprehend. The devil wouldn't have him, though it was already too late for Jouet.

He was a vessel for darkness and horrendous sin. That's what the voices had been telling him for years now. And yet, that boy out there had taken that away for the brief moment he had spent in his presence, wiping away his worry and replacing it with peace. And it would be all too easy to become addicted to that peace.

Oh well, the dancer figured as he rinsed off the sweat and remainder of his makeup. The boy wouldn't come back, he was sure of it. Then Jouet would be hopeless once more and scared of every shadow, not knowing if it was real or imagined. The natural order of things would be back in place.

That boy would be able to thrive in the light, and The Dollhouse would be able to keep its miserable little toy, but for how much longer? His manager's angry face and threatening voice entered his mind, telling him if he didn't get his shit together and stop acting so crazy all the time, he'd be back out on the streets where he found him in the first place.

Jouet laughed darkly, and began humming the song he had just danced to, swallowing the darkness down once more, feeling it drip down his throat as something sickly sweet that barely masked the terribly bitter.

What a fitting metaphor.

A/N: Hello everyone! Yup I'm back on this Christmas Even with yet another adventure for you all! The song used in this chapter, if you haven't guessed already, is that Jessie J song, Bang Bang. And I must confess, that song is the entire reason this fic exists. I listened to it and imagined stripper Levi, and a whole story was born as a result. I don't plan on this fic being as long as my other ones, but we'll see.

I give kudos to Eveningstargazer for coming up with Levi's stripper name. I was in a panic and couldn't think of anything good and then she popped out that brilliance, so thank you again darling! Hope you guys enjoy this dark little adventure, and thanks for joining me for yet another ride!