Beautiful Debt

Title: Beautiful Debt
Authors: Salome-sensei and TalonSage
Words: ~4500
Characters: Jakotsu/Bankotsu
Universe/Genre: Pre-canon backstory
Summary: Bankotsu avoids hard labor through prostitution, but he hadn't counted on being bought for a powerful lord by an equally powerful buyer—one Jakotsu.
Authors' Note: A giftfic for the incomparable Kira. And this is only the first chapter…

Ban has known hard times before, but the past turn of the moon had truly shown the young mercenary what hard times mean. He fought against the inevitable as long as he could, but when jobs became scarce and food became scarcer, he turned to theft. And when he was caught stealing one too many times by the Lord of the Western Land's guards? He was imprisoned and told he'd need to pay off his debt. Hard labor or prostitution were his only choices if he wanted to live—and get both his weapon and his freedom back.

He was taken to the best establishment in the kingdom and bathed by giggling women, loving their "pretty" new boy. Oh, he'd fetch a high price, they gushed. Ban gave himself over to the servants' enthusiastic care, and even flashed them an erection that made them giggle more. All he had to do next was put on the fancy fundoshi and sit in the front of the establishment and wait to be chosen by some rich widow with ready coin. Or something like that.

After an hour of being ogled and pointed at like some prize farm animal, he was beginning to think he'd overestimated his worth. No women of any sort were wandering by, and the men seemed far more invested in making him feel a fool than in purchasing his services. Which, frankly, was fine with Ban. He folded his arms across his chest and waited as, one by one, all the pretty women, then the tolerable-looking women, then even the underdeveloped and ugly were claimed.

Now, with the moon high in the sky and the streets nearly deserted, he stretches out on the floor and drowses until he wakes with a start to find a red-lipped, pink-kimonoed creature staring at him like fresh meat.

Jak is in the business. Not for himself, for someone else, but he has proven his worth to his mistress and runs his own house, though it is still under Her jurisdiction. And he is responsible for new, fresh faces, acquisitions. And look...there are new bodies, male, female, some of indiscernible gender. Just anyone won't do; they have to strike just the right chord to capture Jak's fancy. He singles out three of the fifteen or so there. One female, two male. The female is easy. She's young, young enough to tempt some of their more...discerning customers but old enough to lessen the risk of physical injury by a good margin. He'll buy her...there's a large brothel that she will do very well at to the north. The two males however...well. That was more difficult. He taps his painted lips with a painted nail and considers. One is youkai. Beautiful, with exquisite markings. The other is human. Not terribly striking at first glance. He pays for the female, her price and to have her separated from the rest. He won't take her where she belongs himself; he has servants for just that purpose. But the males. He does not have the funds for both, so he has to make a decision, and the most profitable decision. The youkai will have his price inflated, not to mention spells if he is strong. They can be a worthwhile investment, so he considers carefully before stopping before the human. Now, this...boy is very nearly the definition of "fresh." He folds his fan and taps his chin thoughtfully. "What is your name, boy?"

Bankotsu blinks at the unexpected directness of the voice and sits up. He contemplates an answer as he yawns and stretches. If he gives his real name, it could ruin the reputation for a ruthless hired killer he has been developing since he was twelve. He sucks his teeth, flips his long braid over his shoulder, and gazes back so directly that one of the guards pokes him with a stick. Arrogance is attractive, he's been told, but disrespect can cost the business money, which won't be tolerated. "Ban," he says, not giving his true family name but opting for the nickname that means barbarian. It's absurd in this setting, but at least he'll remember to answer to it, should he be summoned by it.

"Hn." Jak watches him move, watches the play of young muscles under unblemished skin. A scar here and there, but the boy obviously heals well. His arrogance is unexpected, but Jak is not completely surprised by it. Nodding to the guard, he waits while the burly hanyou hefts the youth by his collar so that Jak can read the tag. "Doing time then, not born a slave. Well that much is obvious. Thank you Dar, you may set him down now." He waits while the hanyou sets the boy down...not roughly because marking the merchandise is frowned upon. "Are you a virgin, Ban?"

"Am I a WHAT?" Ban snarls, having had about enough of this treatment. Bathing by servant girls and posing in a fundoshi after a little lecture on decorum that he mostly tuned out was one thing, but this shit? "I'm more man than anyone who's ever fucked you, lady!" he snorts, rising and reaching for a sword that isn't in a belt that he isn't wearing. He feels the fundoshi loosen and begin to drop as he curls his lip. He refuses to yield to the indignity of grabbing it to keep himself covered. Let her get an eyeful, the damned cherry blossom-scented bitch.

"Oh indeed, are you, little one? I shall be the judge of that, I think." Ah the brashness of youth. Clearly this one is used to a more active lifestyle. And he is not the first to mistake Jak for a female, nor will Jak correct his error. With the proper training, this one could be a worthwhile investment. And as he is not properly trained, Jak should be able to barter his price down. He flicks his fan out and pulls the fundoshi ties away, letting the loosened garment fall away completely to see what's being hidden. Very nice. Thick, even its flaccid state, heavy, nicely shaped balls, a foreskin that covers the tip with plenty to spare, and of course he is freshly cleaned. Hmm. That bush could use a little trimming perhaps.

"What the hell," Ban sputters, sick to death already of how this wench is treating him. He's killed for far less. He stumbles back and trips over a low stool behind him, landing on his ass, sprawled and fuming. His face is flushed and he's angrier than he's been in as long as he can remember. Killing, for him, is for pay and for sport, never anger or vengeance. But he could make an exception for this one. With athletic grace and power, he springs back onto his feet and advances on the fan-wielding bitch. The guard's staff trips him before he can reach her and he lands on his face at her feet. He spews expletives into the polished wood floor.

Jak sighs and shakes his head. "Naughty boy. Really, even if you're new you ought to know better than that." He puts his hands on his knees and bends down, "After all, I am a preferred customer." He straightens and flicks his fan back open, watching that tight, pretty ass. "I asked you a question: are you a virgin, Ban?"

Ban groans. What the hell does "preferred" mean, especially in this context? A flood of scenarios involving his humiliation and misuse at the hands of hideous, smelly women wash over him, and it's the necessary slap in the face he needs to get control over himself. If he wants to come out of this untraumatized, he'd better play the game. He rises onto his haunches, hands on thighs, and flexes his muscles. As he apologizes for his rudeness, he realizes he does not know whether it would be better to say yes or no. He opts, as he did with his name, for semi-honesty. "I have known women," he says with a broad grin. "But I have…have had the privilege to be selective. I would like to retain such privilege." He looks up into the bitch's wide brown eyes, then lets his gaze roam her body possessively. Women like that. Except…damn…her shoulders are broader than he first thought, and her forearms are quite muscular…her calves too. What the hell…

Interesting. Jak nods at Dar. He'll take this one. He will be worth the time and effort, and that he has not been with another man...well that is plain by the way he answers. And there are the first signs that he is confused by the contradictions that make Jak who he is. "Tell me Ban, are you used to being shod, or are you one of those rough, country boys who are always running about bare footed?"

More stupid questions…and insults. He grits his teeth. "I have boots. Had boots." He wonders where his clothes are now. Expensive ones that he bought with the pay he earned a few months back, as well as what he stole from the bodies of his five victims. One against five. He liked those odds. Liked them so much better than being weaponless and naked against this…whatever she was.

Jak nods at Dar. "A new fundoshi then, and a short kimono, and shoes, well made shoes that fit his feet exactly. I do not want his feet to blister on our journey." He smiles down at the pretty boy. "Such lovely hair, and so well cared for. You are lucky they did not cut it off and sell it against your debt. As it is, it is worth more on your head than off it, pretty Ban."

Ban blinks, lips part. His hair? He hadn't even thought of that. His heart pounds. He loves his hair. Except for bangs in front to let him see well, it's never been cut, not once in his life. But she's saying it won't be cut, right? Damn, the more he hears, the more he wishes he'd stayed closer to his own element and stuck out the hard labor. Grinding his jaw, he experiences the sensation of being young…too young. And he loathes it. The name he's begun to make for himself is about youth, sure, about how much he's done in so little time. That's how it should be. But this? He doesn't belong here, and he doesn't want to go on any "journey" with this muscular bitch…and without his halberd. Still, she thinks he's pretty. He'll have to play on that. Weird and ignorant of a woman's proper place though she obviously is. "Glad you like it," he says, brushing a few stray strands from his eyes.

Jak smiles. "Something in yellow, I think." Yellow won't be Ban's best color but he wants to downplay his innate attractiveness while they travel. "I do like it." He lifts the heavy braid, feeling it between his fingers, the braided part first, then the ends. Thick, heavy, strong hair. "Bring a razor and water as well, please Dar."

Each time this tough bitch speaks he hears more he doesn't like. Yellow? What man wears yellow? And he heard that bit about the "short kimono." The hell. All he can wish for now is a low brimmed peasant's hat with a net to cover his face. But wait, what was that last? He rubs his chin. It's not rough. He likes his face smooth, and it's smooth enough. So what the heck is she talking about? "Razor?" he repeats, letting her get away with touching his hair because…well…he's made his choice.

"Oh yes. A razor." He lets the braid drop and smiles, closing his fan again. He waits and smiles as Dar comes back. "Just leave the clothing there. Thank you." He takes the bowl of hot water and the oil and the ointment. "Sit down, young one, and spread those pretty legs."

Bankotsu's eyes nearly dart from their sockets as he hears the demand and pairs it with the word "razor." "You're not gonna…" He shakes his head. "Come on…this isn't…you don't…I mean…fuck…" He is backing away, taking little steps and putting his hands before him. He's never felt so cowardly, but then, no one's ever wanted to do something so…sick before. "I don't have fleas, y'know," he says with a forced chuckle, stopping his feet from moving backwards as the guard, Dar, eyes him. The bitch seems unconcerned. "Why don't you tell me your name and we can…get acquainted." It sounds ridiculous even to his own ears, but what the hell is a guy supposed to do when some big-muscled, big-talking wench wants to shave your balls?

"Now relax, child, I'm not going to hurt you. Really, I'm not going to take it all off." He has no intention of telling the boy his name or giving him any information he doesn't wish to give in his own time. "I am merely going to neaten up what kami gave you. The more worked up you are the more likely it is that my hand will...slip, you know." With delicate fingers he opens the razor and watches the light from the lamps dance along the deadly edge.

His eyes glaze, watching her toy with the razor. Though her arms are muscular, her fingers are graceful and the blade sparkles as she twirls it in her nimble grasp. He swallows, feels his adrenalin race. He wishes she'd stop calling him a child and drop this idea of taking a razor to his crotch, but he knows skill when he sees it, and this one is good with the little shiny tool. He's certain of it. Fine. He lies back, arms folded beneath him, and spread his legs. It's a dare. And he's always up for a dare. He closes his eyes. "Go on, then."

"That's a good attitude to have," Jak says, dipping his free hand in the water, and then letting it drip all over the boy's crotch. He drizzles oil carefully, working the warm water and mild oil together, with a professional touch until all the hair he has in his sights is properly lubricated. With deft, easy strokes, wiping the blade off at each stroke he shaves the boy bare from the asshole up over his balls and thighs until there's nothing left but a neatly trimmed palm sized patch. "Much better, I think." He dries the boy off and applies the ointment to smooth the skin and retard hair growth and to discourage any chance for rashes.

Ban is handled so deftly and shaved so quickly he can't believe it's over already. Those hands…so expert…so warm… He looks down, to see the bizarre little patch of hair left and the hardness of his cock looking up at him. She didn't even touch it. And he didn't even realize in the soothing speed of it that he'd gotten so stiff. This is too strange for words. He scratches a cheek. "That really how you want it?" he asks, pointing. He means the hair, but let her think he means his cock, too. Maybe she'll take him for a little test drive in that pretty little mouth of hers.

"I never second guess myself young man," Jak says, not paying any more mind to the erection than he did the flaccid state of his newest boy's cock. Mmm...he's a grower. Good. Dar takes the bowl and razor away and Jak rises to his feet gracefully. "Up you get, pretty young thing," he says, taking the broad cloth of the clean, plain fundoshi and beginning to wind and fold it expertly. "Turn around," he says when the boy gets to his feet. "I have a particular way I like these tied."

"I bet you do," he snickers, beginning to consider changing his mind about this one. And she's definitely not more than a few years older than him. She just likes talking this way. The combination of toughness and confidence along with a rosebud mouth and nimble fingers keeps him hard even as she trusses him up.

"I don't like them easily undone while I'm traveling." He makes it snug, quite snug up between his fine ass cheeks, and ties it so the pouch will support the soft as well as the erect member. He has lots of practice in this after all. "Now the kimono," he says, helping the boy into it. The fabric brushes the middle of the boy's thighs. Good. Enough to show off his assets, but not enough to garner undue stares. And the yellow pales him noticeably. He examines the shoes with the same manner he does everything, with an expert eye and shakes his head. "Dar, these are entirely inappropriate. Kindly remind your master for whom I work and bring me what I requested." He is not angry with the guard, because Dar is not the one who authorizes such things. "I will not be cheated, and I will not pay for inferior product."

Bankotsu is listening well to every word now. "For whom he works," eh? Someone important, no doubt. Knows just what she wants and gets respect like a man. Hell, looks like a man, from certain angles. Not much up front, but he's never been much of a tit man. He looks down at himself. Yellow. Hideous. Short, leg-baring, and hideous. But at least no one will recognize him. Not in this kind of get-up. "You as good with a sword as you are with a razor?" he suddenly asks, unsure exactly what prompts him but recognizing that he could do worse than this wench beside him in negotiation for mercenary work.

Jak ignores the question for a moment, brushing back loose hairs with his well-kept nails as they wait for Dar to return with the proper shoes. "I have many skills, young one," he says as he steps back to admire the picture the boy makes. "I am certain you will be glad I have them at one point or another." That braid...while it was a big selling point for him in the first place...he shakes his head and pulls a low stool over. "Sit," he says, even as he effortlessly adjusts the bigger boy in the position he wishes him in. The tools he requires are fetched by another guard and he unties the braid and begins to unbraid it. "Be still, I told you I will not take your hair," he scolds as the boy presumably trying to get a look at what his plans are squirms around.

He shivers, despite himself, and stops fidgeting. The damned pushy bitch controls him as if he's just meat, but does not hurt him or show him open disrespect. And she smells so…good. Musky…like he smells fresh from bathing in a mountain stream. Perfumed over it, but he catches the raw, real scent beneath. A hunter with a good nose always can. And the way she uses her hands. They're so strong, yet nimble, careful, capable. He already got a taste with the razor, but now in his hair too. And no one, NO ONE messes with his hair. He tries to calm himself. She says she won't cut it. He has to believe her. Wants to. As he would with a companion…a fellow hunter. What the hell is her secret? How does she still him this way?

Jak nods to Dar as he appears with better shoes, and looks them over, frowning. "Better. Yes, I think those will do well enough for the journey. Just leave them here, I will handle this. Thank you Dar, as always your services are above reproach." He slides his hand along the hanyou's strong jaw and rewards him with a kiss, just a chaste brush of his painted lips against the hanyou's, but it is more than enough. Dar is a better sort than you find in most of these places. Such attitudes are to be nurtured and rewarded. And this hair. He turns his attention back to the thick, heavy hair in front of him. How he would LOVE to take the time to wash it properly, but that is time he does not have. Instead, he takes the ivory comb and the light oil and begins to comb through it, taking great care with every strand. "Your long braid suits you very well, Ban, but for traveling I have something else in mind." He frowns slightly at the very ends of the hair. There's some damage there, but he has given his word he will not cut it, and he will not, not even to trim it, which all longhair needs from time to time. "Just relax and enjoy this. I know you've been freshly bathed and fussed over already. I imagine you did not care for it, hmmm?"

So much keeps happening so fast—but so much more to him than for him. From the corner of an eye he sees that little peck Jak gives the hanyou brute. Disgusting. But why so? What does he care what these idiots do? He's just here to serve his time and get his halberd back. His hands itch for its leather-covered handle. His eyes long to gaze upon its sheen. And then Jak's oiling his hair and his scalp and it's good…unbelievably good. In answer to the question he's asked—though not truly a question—he opts to reply: "I enjoy having my needs attended to," he says, a soft, deep burr in his throat.

"Good. I like my boys and girls to be able to show off their best assets effortlessly. Your hair is a strong, automatic draw, but you have other charms that I will bring out as we go along." He works the very tips carefully. The oil will go a long way to saving them, but in the end, it WILL have to be trimmed. Not too much, but enough to neaten it up and ensure all his hair is healthy. He works the hair into sections and begins to braid it again, but this time he starts way up near the crown of Ban's head, doubling the braid back in and over itself in a complicated manner. The end of the braid that won't double any further is wrapped around and tied off and pinned into place with bone hair pins. "Very nice. You won't like it I suspect, but I prefer when traveling to not give an advantage to any who may think of accosting us. I am certain you are used to fighting with your braid loose, but this way it does not become a handle."

Ban winces as his scalp is tugged, the hair worked hard and high. If this strange woman says he won't like it, he's doubly sure he won't. And her attitude suggests she doesn't think he can take care of himself in a fight. He scoffs, audibly. "No opponent has ever caught hold of my hair…and lived to tell about it. Even lovers take care with it." He reaches a hand behind him to feel the strange mass she's made of its length. "You're determined to make me look like a woman, aren't you? What man would ever want to pass himself off as a woman!"

Jak smiles. "No one will mistake you for a woman. But I can see you are used to fighting with a large weapon. You are young, strong and flexible. But you will have neither that weapon, nor your strength or movement while traveling with me. For this reason, I give our potential accosters one less advantage." He lets the last question hang, lazily in the warm air.

Ban shrugs. "If that's how you like it, lady…" He winces at the little pins that hold his hair up. He's never minded a little war paint and appreciation of his beauty, but this is just crazy. It masks his appeal, yeah, but she acts like he'll be stolen, some prize trophy, when she seems to need to primp him for hours just to make him presentable. Which is it? Or is the truth even more elusive…or simple?

Jak kneels down to try the shoes on the surprisingly delicate feet. Oh, they are strong, no doubt, but the ankles are trim, and the bones in his feet fine. The shoes are what he had asked for the first time, tough on the outside, soft on the inside and they fit the boy well. He looks him over, and takes the lead Dar hands him, hooking it to his collar. "I suppose I will have to have the shackles as well," he sighs. At least in the beginning. He watches as Dar stands the boy on his feet and he looks him over appraisingly, then takes his chin. "I want you to remember, should you attempt escape, your punishment by the Lord's will, will be much harsher than it is now. And my displeasure, should you try to run from me, or attempt to kill or harm me will make the Lord's displeasure look like nothing so much as a child's tantrum. Do we understand each other?" He unfolds his fan as Dar shackles the ankles of his newest whore, then binds his arms behind him.

It takes gritted teeth, clenched fists, and serious determination to allow the bulky clod to bind him, but not nearly as much as Ban suspected it would. He's being threatened and shackled, yet he's more fascinated than repelled by what this procurer is making of him, almost entranced. It's temporary, after all, and life is an adventure, is it not? He stands before her, trussed up and dimmed from his natural strength and beauty. And yet his eyes still glow as he looks her up and down, this well-muscled creature who molds him like clay. His shaved groin tingles. "I don't think we understand each other at all," he says honestly as he gives a little grin. "But I give my word not to attempt escape or harm you."

Jak flutters his fan as he considers his response, the end of the leash in his deceptively delicate hand. Moving closer, the fan provides a quick screen for a soft kiss on those surprised lips before folding the fan with a snap and gently tapping the finely molded nose on his newest boy. "I believe your word," he says. "But until we are well on our way, this is as much for your safety as it is insurance for my investment. After all, you did not think I purchased you for my own pleasure, do you?" He tugs gently on the leash and when the boy is close to him again, he murmurs, "Though I plan on taking my pleasure from you quite extensively on our way home." Leaving Ban to turn that over in his mind, he leads him out from the shop, noting as new meat is put on display in the windows to replace the two he has purchased, and leads Ban on the path toward his new life.


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