Morning everybody, hope you're well. This is where everything starts to go to hell in a hand-basket. Enjoy :D

Much like all of Armin's assumptions involving Jean, his assumption that he wouldn't see him again was dead wrong. A week after their last meeting Erwin sends him to Room Two for another private dance and, this time, Armin isn't the least bit surprised to see that it is Jean waiting for him. Once again Erwin had told him how much the client was paying so Armin had guessed it was Jean. He wonders what it is Jean does for a living to be able to afford to casually spend a grand on private dances from a stripper but, as long as the money is coming in, he isn't going to question it too much.

Jean sits in the chair in the centre of the room, looking as calm, collected and gorgeous as ever, as Armin closes the door behind himself, cutting out the rest of the world. Jean smiles at him and his stomach flips.

"Hey," Jean said, his voice smooth and silky.

"H... hi," Armin says and immediately curses himself for stammering.

"We really must stop meeting like this," Jean says with a grin.

Armin lets out a soft huff of laughter. "I'd hardly call these meetings random though, seeing as you keep coming to my place of work."

"True," Jean shrugs.

There is a pause, tension beginning to creep into the air. Armin feels his nerves begin to slither along his skin and he needs to say something before it gets even worse.

"So you must really like me to drop another five hundred on me like this," he says.

Jean shrugs. "I think you're worth it."

Armin's heart stops. He feels as if someone has just dumped a bucket of ice cold water over him but he ignores the feeling quickly. Damn Jean and his ability to say just the right thing to make Armin forget about the fact that he's being paid for this.

"Oh do you now?"

"I do."

Armin swallows the lump rising in his throat. "Why?"

"Fishing for compliments are we?" Jean asks with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

"I'm just curious," Armin replies with a shrug.

"You already know how stunning I think you are," Jean says.

"You have been very vocal about that," Armin says as he pushes himself off the door and goes over to the music system in the corner.

"Well it's true," Jean says. "I could watch you all day long if I was able to."

Armin notes how he doesn't say he could watching him dance, just that he could watch him. He lets out a silent, slightly shaking breath as he turns the music on and it begins to filter through the speakers. He plasters a playful smirk on his face and turns to Jean.

"Well I guess you're in luck then," he says. He saunters over to Jean, undoing the buttons on his shirt as he does.

Jean stares, transfixed, as Armin finishes undoing his shirt, shrugs it off and tosses it in Jean's direction. He runs a hand down his chest to the top of his jeans. He teases the waistband, rolling his hips in time with the music before moving to undo them.

"Leave them on," Jean says.

Armin raises an eyebrow at him. "Don't you want to see me take them off?"

"Not yet," Jean says. He worries his bottom lip with his teeth and Armin has to admit the sight is hot. We've been over this already, stop thinking about him like that – he's a client!

"Well I guess I'll just have to do something else then," he says seductively and sinks to his knees in front of Jean. He places his hands on Jean's thighs, gripping the firm flesh, before running them down to his knees, spreading Jean's legs and settling between them.

Jean visibly swallows as Armin's hands and face inch closer to his crotch. Armin sees his hands twitch, knowing Jean wants to touch him, but he's going to be the one doing the touching tonight. He pushes himself up, making sure to roll his body as close to Jean's as possible, before he straddles his hips. He begins to grind his hips down over Jean's, keeping perfect time with the music. A hand rises so that Armin can trail a gentle fingertip down the column of Jean's neck. Jean lets out a very shaky exhale and his eyes slip closed for a second, visibly shuddering at Armin's touch.

Armin chuckles at the sight. "Enjoying yourself?"

"God yes," Jean groans as Armin's fingertips ghost down his chest, over his shirt. Armin leans closer, his face mere inches away from Jean's. He can smell Jean's aftershave and he feels his brain clouding a little but he pushes it down and carries on, his hand getting lower. Jean hisses through his teeth as Armin's fingers brush over the top of his belt and Armin allows himself to smirk at the sight.

"Want me to take my jeans off now?" he asks, feigning innocence.

"I might die," Jean chuckles weakly, "but yes."

The urge to just lean forward slightly and brush his lips against Jean's is almost overpowering but, aside from the fact that it would be incredibly unprofessional if he did, he is spoken for. He tries not to think about how terrible he has been recently, letting himself drift into fantasies of Jean when he is with Reiner and has been with Reiner for a while now. There's just something about Jean that makes Armin's head spin though.

He pushes himself off Jean's lap and undoes his jeans. Turning, he gives Jean a spectacular view of his backside as he slips the jeans down and off. He hears Jean's breath hitch and it feels so good knowing that he can reduce him to as much of a mess as Jean leaves him.

Clad in just his skin tight boxer shorts he sits himself back on top of Jean's lap, this time with his back to Jean's chest. He begins to grind his hips down again and this time he hears the groan that rips from Jean's throat. Armin bites the inside of his cheek and composes himself as much as he possibly can. He both does and doesn't want this dance to end, which is a new experience for him as, more often than not, he just wants it to be over as soon as possible.

The knock on the door to indicate that their time is up jolts him back to the real world and he reluctantly prises himself off Jean and turns the music off. He waits for a second to see if his heart calms down but the presence of Jean suddenly behind him makes him turn. Jean is so close and, now that he is standing in front of him, rather than sitting, Armin feels his breath stop. He's so tall... Once again Jean takes his hand and kisses the back of it.

"Thank you," he says, just like last time.

"No problem," Armin's voice is more breath than word and it catches in his throat as Jean gives his hand a small squeeze and with that he's gone.

Armin lets out the breath he didn't realise he was holding before he begins to redress. What is it about that man that makes him totally forget all his principles? What is it that makes him think irrationally and want to say screw professionalism? What is it that makes him forget, even if only for a moment, that he's already in a relationship with someone else? He decides to chalk it up to temporary insanity and only indulge in it while he and Jean are in the same room.

He doesn't have a lot of time to dwell on it before there's another knock at the door and Gunther sticks his head in.

"Azure Mr Smith wants to see you in his office," he says, his expression never changing from the indifferent mask it always is but Armin feels as if he's been handed a death warrant.

"S... sure thing," he says, his voice strained and breathy.

Whether Gunther notices this or not he makes no other response before disappearing again. Armin can feel himself begin to tremble. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! What could Erwin possibly want to see him about? Whatever it is Armin has no idea and he doesn't imagine that it's going to be a pleasant conversation. Not for me anyway...

He toys with the idea of going to get changed – this was his last dance of the night and he may not want to stick around for too long after this – but he thinks better of it. Get it over with as fast as possible and then he can retreat to the safety of his dressing room if he needs to compose himself.

Dread twists his stomach into knots as he makes his way over to Erwin's office and he fights the urge to be sick as he knocks on the door. The smooth 'come in' from inside chills him to the core and, with all the courage he can muster, he pushes the door open.

Erwin is sitting behind his desk looking a suave and put together as always. He smirks. "Ah Armin, close the door behind you."

Armin does and goes to stand in front of Erwin's desk. Erwin doesn't offer him a seat and he doesn't take one.

"Gunther said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes," Erwin says, the smirk on his lips looking anything but comforting and Armin tries to swallow his nerves. This is worse than being in a room with Jean... "Now, as I'm sure you are aware, these are hard time in Shinganshina and we need to start pulling in more money if we don't all want to be out of jobs."

And by we you mean the rest of us. "Okay."

"So I have had to make an executive decision about how I am going to run this club from now on."

"Okay." It's all Armin can bring himself to say. What is he scheming this time?

"I will be requiring all of the dancers to offer extra services to their clients," Erwin says.

"Extra services?" What the hell does that mean?

"I will be requiring you to offer sex to your clients as well as what you already offer," Erwin says calmly.

What?!

What the actual fuck?!

"Pardon?" Armin is proud of himself for sounding as calm as he does. What the fuck is he thinking? This is illegal!

"We will pull in more money this way, which means more tips and you will get paid a higher wage," Erwin says.

Only if I start fucking for money...

"I... I need to talk to my partner about this," Armin finally says. This isn't like a harmless fantasy about Jean every so often, this is actually having sex with people who aren't Reiner and accepting money for it to boot.

"You can chose not to accept if you wish," Erwin says, "however it will mean a lot less money for you if you continue as a simple dancer. There is a lot of money to be made in–"

"Prostitution," Armin cuts him off.

Erwin chuckles. "Don't think of it as prostitution. Think of it as an added extra people can pay for if they desire."

"Right..."

"I will be enforcing this new policy by the end of the week and all those not willing to accept the offer will lose out," Erwin says.

Giving us the semblance of choice, Armin thinks derisively. "I said I'd talk to my partner about it," he says. "This isn't a decision I can make on my own, you understand,"

This is a decision he can make on his own – he doesn't want to fuck other people for money – but he can't imagine that Erwin is going to accept that as an answer. He'll push and push until he gets the answer he wants. Hopefully he and Reiner can come up with an excuse that will get Erwin off his back. Sure the money is going to be better but it's never been something he wanted to entertain as an option.

Erwin's smirk only seems to twist and make Armin even more uncomfortable. "That's fine but I'll need your answer by the end of the week."

"Okay."

"You may go," Erwin tells him.

"Thank you," Armin nods and makes his way out of the office as calmly as he possibly can. His composure lasts until he is back in his dressing room with the door closed and he pounds his fist against the wall until his knuckles split and warm blood begins to trickle down his fingers as tears begin to spill down his cheeks.

How is this getting so fucked up?