Morning guys :D so this is Armin and Jean's first proper meeting, hope you all enjoy it :)

Amber. That's the colour of those eyes. Intense, searing amber that seems to burn into him from the bar as Armin grinds himself against the pole on stage. He feels those eyes on him as soon as he steps out onto the stage and he knows they haven't left him the entire time he's been dancing. It wasn't until the stage lights first shone into the crowd that he knew for certain it was the man from two nights ago. As he turns to the crowd to tease the waistband of the skin tight jeans he's wearing he makes the mistake of locking with those eyes and his stomach flutters.

Pull yourself together, he tells himself as he turns his attention back to shaking his hips as he rids himself of those jeans. Sure the man is handsome as hell but he's not that attractive... right? Armin can lie to himself all he wants but the fact of the matter is that this man, whoever he is does funny things to him. The pure and simple fact that he knows those eyes are watching him and only him as he dances is enough to make Armin a little light headed and that is very dangerous in this line of work.

He manages to get through the rest of the dance and as he leaves the stage he is a little relieved to have a reprieve from those eyes that can see into his soul. It's short lived though as a knock on his dressing room door has him looking up to see Erwin standing in the doorway, smirking at him. Armin swallows down the wave of revulsion and turns to smile at him, even if it is quite obviously a fake one.

"Erwin," he says with forced brightness, "what can I do for you?"

"Someone has requested you for a private dance," Erwin replies. "They're in Room Two waiting for you."

"Okay," Armin says trying to sound cheerful. He hates private dances. It's just him and one other person and there is no security to stop them from trying something he's not cool with. "I'll just get changed and be right there."

"Good," Erwin says, that smirk still gracing his lips. "He's paying a lot of money for you so make sure you show him something extra special."

"How much is he paying?" Armin asks, his curiosity getting the better of him as he tries to gage just how 'extra special' he has to go.

"Five hundred," Erwin casually replies.

"Five hundred!"

"As I said make sure you give him something extra special," Erwin says giving Armin one more smirk before leaving.

Armin begins to change back into his skin tight jeans and another white shirt. Whoever it is that's paying five hundred for this is going to want something more than would normally constitute a private dance. He gives himself a quick once over in the mirror, rubbing a little concealer over the circles under his eyes – they're a little more noticeable close up – and putting a bit of lip balm on his chapped lips. When he's done he looks over himself. I guess I don't look too bad...

He makes his way over to Room Two, pausing outside the door to take a deep composing breath before he pushes it open. The first thing that hits him is those amber eyes. Of course... Of course it was going to be him, who else would have paid that much money for a dance from me... While the shock of those eyes hits him like a kick in the gut he really should have guessed it was him. He gives the man a coy smile as he closes the door behind him.

"Hello again," he says.

"Hey," the man says smiling at him.

"So you came back to see me."

"I said I would, didn't I?"

"True," Armin says. "This time you wanted me all to yourself?"

"What can I say?" the man shrugs with a grin. "Seeing you dance on stage is nice but I wanted a close up."

"And is that all?" Armin asks. This guy seems different to the others – this is already way more conversation he's had with anyone else who has bought him for a dance – so he fells a little more bold. This guy treats me like I'm human...

"What do you mean?"

"You just dropped five hundred on me," Armin says, a cheeky smirk playing about his lips. "You must want to do more than just watch me take my clothes off." How far can he push this? The man chuckles softly and Armin realises he can probably push farther.

"I'd settle for your name."

"You know my name," he says.

"Your age then."

"I'm legal if that's what you mean."

"It's not but good to know," the man laughs. "I'm Jean," he says after a pause.

"Pardon?"

"My name is Jean," he says again and Armin's heart skips. Jean... He suddenly imagines that name sighing passed his lips as the man – Jean – pins him to a mattress and fucks him. Stop it! What are you doing?

A shaking breath ghosts passed Armin's lips but he doesn't think Jean notices as he swallows. "Let's just keep this professional, shall we?" Don't think about the fact that it's him, just get on with it...

Jean shrugs. "If you want."

"Okay," Armin says giving him a small smile before he goes over to the small music system in the corner.

"Do I make you nervous?" Jean asks and Armin doesn't have to look at him to know that there is a smirk on his impossibly handsome face.

"No." Yes. "Why? Do you think you do?"

"A little."

"Very arrogant of you."

Jean chuckles and Armin can feel those eyes see right through him. "What can I say? I guess I'm arrogant then."

"You're definitely different," Armin says under his breath as the music begins to blare from the speakers. He doesn't think Jean heard him because he makes no indication that he has. He takes a deep breath – professional – and turns to face Jean, looking seductively at him from under his fringe.

Jean's breath hitches and Armin allows the small twinge of pride to twist its way into a smirk. Making a man like Jean beg is going to be a lot more fun than a regular private dance. He saunters over to him, his hips swaying in time with the music. Any nerves he had felt about being in such close proximity to the amber eyed man who seemed intent on turning his world on its head are gone in an instant as soon as he hears the music. This is what he does, this is his job and he's damn good at it.

He drops to his knees in front of Jean's chair and he has to admit seeing Jean's eyes cloud over with hungry desire is incredibly satisfying. It's not the same look that he gets from other punters – it's not what pleasure he can get out of Armin but what gasps and moans he can pull out of him as he brings him pleasure. He places his hands on Jean's thighs and gives the firm muscles a gentle squeeze.

"You look so good like this," Jean says, his voice raspy and deep and it sends a jolt through Armin's body.

"What? On my knees?" he asks, expecting that to be the response.

"Well yeah," Jean chuckles, "but I meant that look you've got in your eye when you're dancing."

"Oh..." Always with the surprises...

Armin teases his bottom lip between his teeth as he shakes off the impact of Jean's words (only slightly successfully) and sits back on his heels. With eyes locked on Jean's, and slightly trembling fingers because of it, he begins to undo the buttons of his shirt. He loves the look that flickers over Jean's face as he slowly reveals his chest button by button and he has to remind himself, once again, that he has to keep things professional.

With his shirt open he pushes himself to his feet and slides onto Jean's lap, his back pressing against Jean's chest. He shouldn't be wishing to feel Jean's muscles through his clothes. He shouldn't but he is and he knows that he has to keep his thoughts in check – any kind of arousal will be so obvious in these jeans...

Hands twitch to touch as he begins to grind himself against Jean's lap like he does when he works a pole. "Hands at your sides," he orders.

"Yes Sir," Jean chuckles and Armin feels a small jolt at how good that sounds. Fucking stop it! This is such a bad train of thought to hop on so stop it.

While chastising himself Armin suddenly remembers what Erwin said to him – to give Jean something extra as he's paying so much. He takes Jean's hands, trying to ignore how strong they feel compared to his, and places them on his hips as he undulates them in time with the music.

"You can touch when I say you can," Armin says shooting a grin over his shoulder.

"I'll take that," Jean says, gripping the hips beneath his hands a little harder.

Armin's breath hitches but it isn't noticeable. He's glad. Normally whoever he's dancing for isn't allowed to touch him unless they pay enough but he doesn't altogether mind having Jean's hands on him.

After a bit more grinding Armin removes Jean's hands from his hips and gets to his feet. He shrugs out of the open shirt as if it's nothing, letting it fall to the floor before turning to face Jean. He watches those eyes stare intently at his hand as he runs it down his chest to the buttons on his jeans. He pops them open and, with a seductive wriggle of his hips, slips them off leaving him in only his tight boxers. He seats himself back on Jean's lap and starts to grind again.

Without his cloths he can feel more of the body beneath him and he can't help but admit that it feels fantastic. Neither of them say a word – keep it professional and I've already spoken way more than with a normal client – but the harsh breath in his ear tells Armin that Jean is enjoy it. He continues to dance until a knock at the door indicates their time is up.

Armin gets off Jean's lap and goes to turn off the music. He's about to collect his discarded clothes when he turns and finds himself face to face with Jean. His heart begins to pound and he hopes that Jean can't hear it, that would be so embarrassing. True to form of always surprising him Jean takes Armin's hand and presses a gentle kiss to the back of it.

"Thank you," he says, looking directly into Armin's eyes, "for the dance."

"N... no problem," Armin says breathlessly. He wants to say that he's just doing his job but he can't bring himself too. No one has ever treated me like this guy before...

Giving him one last smile Jean leaves and all Armin can do is stand there for a moment before he grabs his clothes and hastily dresses. He darts back to the safety of his dressing room and presses himself up against the closed door. He rubs his hand over his face, trying to forget about what just happened even though the back of his hand is still tingling from Jean's lips. No one's looked at me like that in so long, not even Reiner...

That thought hits him like a truck. Reiner... I'm with Reiner... Armin shakes his head, pushing himself off the door and going over to look at himself in the mirror. He's not too red, thank god. Maybe no one noticed. No more of this... I need to get my head back in the game and focus... I probably won't see him again so it's fine...