Notes: I had a thought about this a long time ago, and I decided I'd write it down. I hope you find it to your liking, gentle readers. I'm aware that the shows I'm crossingover are...well couldn't be more different, but bear with me.

The Silk of Benzaiten

-

Jack knew that one day his debts would catch up to him; they were bound to appear sooner or later. He would have preferred the latter but it apparently didn't matter anymore because it had just become the former. Not that he had anything to do in the meantime, it was just that his search for the Fountain of Youth wasn't going as well as it should have, and the Black Pearl was still sailing around attacking ships left and right. Now the Toguro brothers debt collector had appeared and brought his pretty little boy along with him. No. Things were not going well.

So he ran down the back streets of Tortuga and pretty much collided with every man that got in his way until he was on the outskirts of town and into the wilderness that surrounded it. The trees were thick and the vines seemed to claw at him as he stumbled through them haphazardly. It was dark and he couldn't see jack, ha pun. Must remember that. So he looked up at the sky past the thick canopy of leaves, hoping to see the stars somewhat that would help him find his way, only to find that he was in a forest, so if he wanted any results he'd have to climb up one of them and check the stars because he wouldn't be able to see his compass in this light.

As much as he hated to admit it, the compass hanging from it's tie fastened to one of his belts wouldn't be much use anyway, what he wanted was to get away from Karasu and the compass wasn't psychic, it'd probably point to the pretty lad that had been with Karasu and lead him in the worst direction possible. At any rate it left him, alone, in the forest, hunted by a creepy Japanese pirate who was quickly making a name for himself. With no idea where he was, forced to waste time by climbing trees to stargaze while Karasu closed in on him. Or at least that was the situation until ever re-prioritized and categorized itself as a hand suddenly appeared from behind a tree and yanked him into further darkness between two large entwined roots of the trees littered about.

"Gah! You!" He shouted at slapped the hand that still held his sleeve away.

The boy stared at him dryly, or at least he though he did, the glowy eyes only expressed so much. "Please be quiet, he's close."

Jack shot him a curious look then stuck his out from behind the tree and squinted his eyes, all he could see was trees and the occasional falling leaf. "Not to state the obvious, but aren't you on his side?" He asked turning back to the boy and jumping slightly, the boy was closer than he'd thought.

"Technically, yes." He spoke, tilting his head to the side and then looking up into the trees.

"Any particular reason you find yourself aiding the enemy then?" Jack asked, pointing to himself vaguely. The boys' animal-like eyes glowed in the dark like a foxes. If he was a fox then he'd be cunning, and he'd have a reason – an ulterior motive - in his reasoning that required him to help Jack. Perhaps if Jack tipped the scales, he himself would come out with all the profit.

"An enemy of my enemy is my friend." He spoke, then closed his eyes and melded into the darkness of the trees, pulling Jack with him.

-

Two Days Earlier

-

"Karasu!"

The pirate's corpse fell with a faint thud and Captain Karasu sneered at it. It served the rat right, he'd been absorbed in his own thoughts, and damn it, no one interrupted him when he was absorbed in his thoughts lest they meet a fishy death. Flicking the blood from his katana he turned to his savoir and raised an eyebrow.

"Unwise Kurama, with me dead you could've escaped." He surveyed the thin man beside him with a raised eyebrow.

"I didn't do it for you," he snapped, crossing his arms over himself and looking away from Karasu's intense gaze. The fact that he looked like a wet kitten didn't escape Karasu. "I wouldn't survive in Tortuga on my own, I need you alive."

Karasu thought on it while he placed his katana back in its sheath and checked his yukata for blood. There was blood, however most of it was old and he hadn't had a chance to look for new clothes since he'd been in Tortuga last year. Kurama also needed a new yukata, or possibly a women's kimono. Karasu smirked gleefully at the thought then turned to face Kurama properly who glared back at him, his beautiful hair dishevelled and his face dirty with grime and soot.

"That's not true. With me dead you could have taken my weapon and fled, I kidnapped you for a reason and that was because you could fight. You could have died on your ship like the others, but you defended yourself, and you defended yourself well. And so here you are. My beautiful Kurama, you're so unwilling to give up and die. You don't need my protection." He extended a hand to stroke Kurama's cheek and chuckled when it was slapped away viciously.

"If you died while in my presence the Toguro brothers would not stop until I was dead and that goes for every other pirate captain and their crew under his rule." His captive argued, still glaring at him from a fair distance away.

Karasu clicked his tongue. "You make them sound like martyrs."

Though his network was large and spanned over three ships and many other pirate affiliations the Toguro brothers were men of only so many morals. If Karasu died they wouldn't care, however Karasu implied the false fact too Kurama the first time they met, purely so that Kurama had no choice but to stick with his captor for his own safety or risk becoming the Caribbean's most hunted.

"Come." Karasu ordered in a 'obey me or die' tone of voice and turned to walk down the street, his silken tresses flowing after him.

Kurama stared after him for a while, anger boiling within him at being ordered around like a mere slave until Karasu had almost disappeared into the chaos that was Tortuga's main street. Then he knelt and riffled through the dead man's pockets unbelieving his luck when he came across a knife just perfect enough to hide in his yukata and not be too noticeable. Perhaps when he had some time alone, if he ever got time alone other than when Karasu was parading him around like a fucking prize as he was now, he'd be able to pick the seams on his sleeves and hide the blade between the layers of cloth. The handle could be discarded easily enough as long as they stayed in Tortuga for a few more nights.

Standing with a quick look at his surroundings Kurama left the body where it was and sought after Karasu, who'd disappeared into one of the taverns down the dirt street a little.

He hated this place. They'd stoped for what Karasu had said was a routine pick up of bribes, food and rum. The goats needed feed so that their cook could have milk to make their food and the men themselves needed to rest. Honestly Kurama couldn't see how men could live in such degradation it was horrific, Karasu was a class above most of the pirates here and he was appalled at most of Karasu's habits as it was.

Kurama considered himself a class above that. It was true that he wasn't human, it was the very reason he'd been on the very ship Karasu had attacked and taken him from. From the frying pan into the fire, so to speak. He had expected better of these people. Trapped in his situation, unable to free himself just yet, he whimpered and lamented following Karasu around like a fucking kit would its mother. He was kitsune, not a lowly dog. And Karasu had called the crew of his ship no less than dogs in an attempt to spur them on as they were close to reaching their destination, the seas angry fists bashing against the side of the ship and covering the deck with the results of its fury. Any man who was not holding onto something was thrown off balance and eventually tossed into the oceans clasps. Davy Jones would have them.

Glaring at the inhabitants of this sordid existence he walked up the steps to the tavern and searched through the waring mass of bodies and finally spotted Karasu at a table standing beside a seated man. Ducking his head and acting the innocent defenceless captive that he truly was Kurama made his way over to the violet eyed pirate captain.

Karasu leant over the table, his face an inch away from the seated man who lent back in his wooden chair, attempting to back away from Karasu's scrutiny with little luck. The man looked more like a geisha than a pirate with all that black muck around his eyes and the trinkets in his hair.

"Oh, it's you."

"I want my money Captain Jack," Karasu was saying as he rested a hand on the handle of his katana, the other splayed over the table to level himself over the distance.

The geisha mans eyes slid to Kurama and then back to Karasu a few times before his lips pulled back to form a nervous smile. "How nice to see you again, Karasu." He spoke with a solemn inclination of his head, and then stood, swaying slightly.

"Now." Karasu prompted, his thumb flicking the tip of his katana from its sheath and into a position where it could easily be unsheathed. He shifted slightly, standing on his side, and Kurama swallowed, feeling almost sorry for the other man. If Karasu wanted too, he could have simply drawn the katana and sliced the man's head clean off by now, with one clean strike.

But he wouldn't would he? He wouldn't get the money this 'Jack' owed to the Toguro brothers.

Jack shifted on his feet also, tugging at his sleeves a little nervously and leaning forward as he spoke, swaying on the balls of his feet. "I would think that, it would be better to allow me some time to retrieve the money. Wouldn't you think so?"

Kurama turned his eyes to Karasu. "You've had long enough."

Kurama stepped forward and grasped the sleeve of Karasu's yukata. "Karasu… "

He almost shrank back when he turned his head to glare at him, and Jack craned his neck to look at him better, but he glared back at Karasu instead, ignoring his petty fear. Karasu may have trapped him, but he also held Karasu trapped, so long as he didn't lose interest then Kurama would be fine. "Why don't you give him two days, then if he doesn't pay you and the Toguro brothers want to know why, they won't punish you for it." He said quietly, so that the other man couldn't hear.

The dark haired man appeared to turn it over in his head, before he looked down to Kurama with a slight, dangerous smile. "You must have an ulterior motive for this, why would you care for a stranger?"

He didn't have one yet, but he had heard the rumours about this certain pirate, and if he was right, doing this one a good deed might turn things to his favour. "I don't have one."

"Lie," he accused in a hushed voice, narrowing his eyes at him.

Kurama felt like he'd just been shaken from the inside. "I don't."

"If I allow him two days what will you give me?" He asked, an intense leer suddenly creeping from his eyes.

Panicking, Kurama offered the only thing he could think of. "Me."

Then he cursed his mouth, and thought it through properly. It would give him a chance to kill Karasu, certainly, but he wasn't sure if he'd have enough time.

Karasu smirked triumphantly. "I knew you would come around to my side eventually, my beautiful Kurama."

He felt sick.

Karasu straightened himself, and the katana was pushed firmly back into its sheath again. "Two days, Jack." He called to the man who was in the process of sneaking away from them both, through the chaotic taverns occupants.

The man turned on his heel, gave a slight wave and an unconvinced smile and then stepped to the side, disappearing into the crowd. Karasu turned to look at him, and placed a large and yet delicate hand on his shoulder.

"Come," He said, turning Kurama away and towards the taverns exit.

-

Kurama didn't want to know where the large box-like wicker basket had come from.

It was beside him on the floor, from where he'd fallen unconscious, when he woke. He'd seen enough of them before his identity had been discovered and they'd forced him onto the ship to be taken to one of the rich Englishmen that had offered to buy him on sight upon seeing his beauty. The whole mess had saved him from the blade, but in the long run dishonoured him more than death would have. The Englishman gone ahead, something to do with business, and he'd been kept prisoner until the transport ship he'd been put on was raided by Karasu's crew.

The wicker box, large enough for a small child to hide in, usually held kimono. Women's kimono.

He picked himself up, wincing at the pain in his lower regions, and pulled what was left of his yukata around him, tying it carefully at his waist, purposefully ignoring the bruises there, marring his pale skin. Having had almost no time to survey the room Karasu had rented last night, he looked around for the first time, standing tentatively, ignoring the box in the middle of the room.

It was a simple and yet obviously expensive, for Tortuga anyway. It amused him how the town seemed to be so chaotic, but you weren't bothered unless you were looking for a fight. Which meant the rooms upstairs were never disturbed, even by the maids, who were usually to drunk to remember to clean anyway.

The floor was covered in a rather old and dirty carpet, and the tables and vanity dresser made from old wood, placed on the wall opposite the window with shattered glass, and torn lace curtains. A wooden framed bed with a hybrid straw and feather down mattress, covered with disturbed sheets. There was an open fireplace with and extended hearth of cold tile, and a small stack of wood beside it. The room was absent of Karasu, and so rather larger than Kurama had remembered it.

Moving to the window, where there was light, he peered across the balcony from the floor bellow and onto the still chaotic street, with the drunkards and pirates still wondering in drunken stupors, although a little calmer than the night before. He couldn't see Karasu from the window, and neither was he anywhere in the room, so, taking the chance presented to him, Kurama pulled the knife he'd hidden from his yukata sleeve.

Last night, when Karasu had attacked him, he'd done everything he could to keep it a secret, without being suspicious, and with an utterly bitter taste in his mouth he hoped that it was worth it. He worried his lip for a moment, and then turned his eyes on the wicker basket. He would be taking a gamble to assume that Karasu would want him to wear that, but it seemed just like him to want to torture him so.

He stood and walked over to the basket, pulling its lid off and staring at the contents inside. The Kimono's outer layer was a rich green, shot through with veins of branch-like gold and small petals of deep red. The pattern was elegant, and no doubt very colourful and outstanding. Certainly very long, it would probably trail along behind him if he were to wear it, the neck would arch deep down his spine, and the sleeves would probably reach his knees, if not further, covering his hands to the tips of his fingers. A single woman's kimono.

He gulped as he laid it out on the floor, and began picking carefully at the fine stitch with the blades edge. Taking care to leave it so that the hole would be small, and yet still leave enough room to slip it in and retrieve it if necessary, he tried his best to work quickly, in fear of Karasu walking in and spotting him.

A few times he got spooked by footsteps coming down the hallway, and he utterly froze, his heart beating wildly in his chest and his eyes wide, until they passed by, and he let out a shaky breath before going back to the job at hand.

He was washing himself with the small water pitcher and basin when then door opened and he steely ignored his nerves as they rattled and crawled under his skin, the hair raising on the back of his neck as Karasu closed the door behind him.

"I informed the crew that we are staying for two days. We leave at sunrise." He said, taking a few long strides forward, calmly ignoring the kimono basket, and settled himself on the bed, which was only just large enough for two people. Kurama eyed him cautiously through the vanity's mirror as he continued to scrub at his skin and use the water pitcher to wash the suds into the small copper basin.

He began to feel self-conscious under the intense scrutiny.

"What's your purpose with this, Kurama?" he asked, watching him, leaning back on his elbows, his feet crossed over at his ankles.

Kurama wiped himself down with the cloth provided, and placed it back on the vanity, then slipped his yukata back onto his shoulders and tied it around his waist tightly. "I wanted to help."

"No one is that kind hearted." He replied in a dry tone of voice, then sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulling his sword from his waist and placing it just slightly under the bed, and cradled against the wall.

"You're a pirate. What would you know about kindness?" He snapped, and then froze as Karasu's hands clamped over his shoulders. He hadn't notice him move, the man was so silent when he wanted to be. It was almost as if Karasu were the unnatural one instead of Kurama.

He swallowed as Karasu's breath ghosted down his neck, and slender pale fingers began to tug his hair, pulling his head back and away slightly. "I know that my act of kindness was not leaving you to rot on that ship, and right now by not tying you to the bed and letting you starve for two days. The pain is more intense when you haven't eaten."

When one of the pirate's hands began sliding a little too far downward, just like last night, Kurama caught it and gasped as Karasu bit into his neck roughly in response. He was forced up against the vanity with a rough shove and the resounding rattle startled Kurama, his eyes flew wide, then he clenched his jaw sternly and looked away.

"We made a deal, my beautiful Kurama. You agreed to be willing for two days." He reminded, pulling Kurama's hands behind his back and holding them as his other free hand snaked around his front again, between the vanity and his abdomen.

Kurama raised his chin and glared at Karasu through the oval shaped, stained mirror before them. "That didn't stop you last night."

The dark haired man smirked at him, his fingers tugging at the tie of Kurama's yukata. "Yesterday wasn't included in the two days. You have today and tomorrow. The morning after next I collect the debt, or a head, and we will continue on our search for a certain something I have had my eye on since meeting you."

Kurama dropped his head so he couldn't see his reflection as one of Karasu's knees slid between his own. It was just like Karasu to not force him into this, he was going to 'let' Kurama get aroused on his own.

"Did you see my present?" He whispered into his ear as his yukata slipped open, and his hand slid up to trail over his nipple as Karasu pressed harder against him. Moulding their hard bodies together, as close as possible. Like this Kurama could feel how hard Karasu's cock was against his ass, and he resisted the urge to fight back, the urge to throw up, or to cry out desperately.

"I did." He said, his voice quivering, and gasped slightly when Karasu wrenched his chin up and licked along his jaw with his hot tongue.

Despite his anger at being trapped and controlled against his will - with Karasu, with the Englishman, with this deal, with everything – he couldn't ignore Karasu's onslaught. Last night he'd been vicious and not gentle at all, Kurama was sure he'd torn him inside, but he had much worse done to him, and being kitsune certainly helped a lot. Only his star ball had been lost when the ship was blown to smithereens, and so he had no great power as he was now. But oh, he had ways of getting it back too. He just had to be patient.

Pleased with Kurama's more compliant attitude, the hand that held Kurama's hands behind his back slipped away and sought his hardness, and purred as he ran his teeth down Kurama's neck.

Kurama, staring at the mould covered ceiling with half lidded eyes, allowed a moan to escape him as Karasu's long fingers closed around his cock, and stroked him languidly, until he was full and almost quaking in Karasu's arms.

"You'll be much better like this, I think you like a little pain though, isn't that right? My beautiful Kurama." He sneered his name as if an insult and the hand that had been toying with his nipple slipped up into his bound hair and wrenched his head back again when he turned to glare at him, his hand tightening around his cock.

Kurama gasped and began to struggle, thrusting his elbow back into Karasu's side and forcing his hands away from him. But Karasu, not one to be taken lightly, only wrapped both of his arms around Kurama's waist and picked him up, and taking a long step back, thrust Kurama around and onto the bed.

Sprawled face down on the bed, as good as unclothed, and quivering with need, Kurama peeked back up over his shoulder to Karasu, then quickly adverted his eyes back to the white sheets bellow him. Karasu was pulling his yukata from his shoulders, a sight which should have been as arousing as it was.

Not wanting to think about how erotic Karasu seemed, just at the simple sight of his dark hair slipping to his chest as the ash and blood coloured yukata was pulled from his shoulders, Kurama pulled himself up and spun around, backing up to the headboard of the bed, and glaring aptly. Karasu chuckled at the sight, and bent down to untie his western boots and slip his western pants from his hips, revealing his hard cock.

He bent forward until his hands were splayed out on the sheets of the bed, and placed a knee on the edge of the mattress, directly before Kurama at the end of the bed, and crawled forward, forcing Kurama's legs open as he went and turning his head to the side when Kurama tried to punch him. "You seem to forget that you promised to be mine for two days, Kurama," he taunted, catching Kurama's wrist when he attempted to punch him again.

"Stop saying my name." He hissed, though he felt like the air he gulped in simply wasn't enough. Karasu was poised over him, against him, hot skin on skin, and small almost giddy like waves of pleasure rushing through him from the contact of their naked cocks.

Karasu continued on as if Kurama hadn't said a thing, holding Kurama's wrists above his head by the sleeves of his yukata after sweeping away the pillows with one powerful swipe, then simply staring down at him. Something dark lurking behind his eyes, something masquerading as intense lust. "Though, I guess I'd just take you anyway. I can't help but be curious, I wonder if your screams of pleasure are the same as your cries of pain?"

Kurama considered spiting at him, and decided against it after a while. He made a deal, if he didn't hold up his end he couldn't expect Karasu to do the same. In fact he shouldn't expect Karasu to hold up his end of the deal anyway, there were too many loopholes. There agreement had been to wait two days for the money, Karasu could have easily killed Jack and waited two days to collect the money from wherever Captain Jack hid it (if he even had any).

Then he was gasping, clenching his jaw as Karasu bent down and ran his tongue over one off his nipples, in long languid strokes until it tightened into a hard nub and he took it between his teeth, pulling slightly. Kurama forced himself to not make any sound other than his harsh breathing, however he couldn't help but squirm under him. His cock was constantly reminding him of what it wanted and now the song was sang along with the rest of his body, until it all cried out it chorus as Karasu lifted his head and watched Kurama closely as he gyrated his hips.

His head seemed to turn to the side for of its own will when the cry snuck past his lips, his hair a dirty mess of red strewn about him, his pale skin covered in ripe, barely day old bruises and bite marks. He wasn't exactly paying attention to Karasu's slight hiss, as his hips snapped forward again, hard and fast, sending a bolt of bliss right through Kurama's eager body. It seemed only right to wrap his legs around Karasu's hips, to pull him closer, and to thrust up against Karasu when lips returned to his as yet unmolested nipple.

Now held in the tight grasp of pleasure, becoming its wanton slave, Kurama threw his head back and moaned loudly. Feeling the body above him shudder slightly in response he looked down, panting, and swallowed. Karasu drifted down, further and further, down his stomach, abdomen and then lowered his head and smiled slightly as Kurama's cock struck his cheek slightly, and licked at its length happily, almost greedily. Kurama, watching with those wide emerald eyes, realised he looked like a child with a new toy, and as the morbidity settled slowly, he forgot everything as his hard cock was encased in warm suction, and brought his hands down to slide through inky hair. Only then did he distractedly realise that his hands had been released, and that Karasu's own had taken residence on his chest again, his thumbs running back and forth over his nipples, in circles and pulling lightly. Sending bolts of lightning through him, right to his cock, and the heat which engulfed it.

All together, it seemed too strong. He swallowed thickly and moaned softly. His world was being devoured, and he could only revel in it, as skilful hands and tongue played his body like a violin, knowing just where to push, and where to pull, to make everything to explode behind his eyes, and in his veins. Karasu's hot mouth, around his cock, seemed his whole world; with his eyes closed he could only feel, and sense, and drift, closer and closer…

Then it stopped, and Karasu was crawling back up and covering him completely with his warm flesh and Kurama was digging into his back with his nails in frustration as they kissed forcefully, and passionately, their tongues sliding against each other, just like their cocks, and their bodies, a seemingly perfect match. Karasu forced the transition from lips to ear with a growl, his hair sliding after him, as he growled, "so compliant now," into his ear.

Kurama shook his head, back and forth, and gripped tighter at Karasu, his hands slipping down to his ass to pull him closer. "I don't care… I don't care… Give me your cock."

There was a moment of stillness where Kurama seriously thought he felt the earth take a last gasp of breath, and everything had paused perfectly still as he gazed up, his soft lips parted and his veins singing with need. For a single, terrifying moment, he had the clarity to wonder if he'd said something wrong. Because the look in Karasu's eyes at that moment, when he turned to look at him, seemed…

It wasn't a look at all. It didn't seem sane enough to be called that.

It passed, with Karasu pulling Kurama's hair back, making him cry out, and bending down slightly to hook his arm under a pale leg, hoisting it up, and without preamble, forcing himself inside Kurama's tight ass. Kurama's throat closed up, and the pain seemed immediate: in his leg, forced to such a strange angle, in his neck as Karasu sought purchase there with his teeth, holding tight onto his flesh almost as tightly as Kurama did he. And deep inside him, again and again, until tears gathered in his eyes, and his jaw clenched, his arms scrambling for something to hold on too.

His arousal dampened, taken away by Karasu's viciousness, and the sudden sharp reminder of his situation, and how utterly horrible it was. He had nothing, but a distant hope, and a dishonest man to rely on living into the next year. The earth said nothing to him, refusing to answer until he paid it proper respect. But he couldn't do that anymore. His star ball, his essence, had been taken. And his youko-self had gone with it, hiding in the caves rampant in Isla de Muerta, which was mostly submerged underwater now.

Gritting his teeth, Kurama bore the pounding assault, determined to come out of this on top somehow, and of no cost to his own being.

He didn't struggle. An accord had been struck.

For now, he would pretend to be half of what he was before his strength had been taken from him, and allow the cogs to move, impervious to his wielding the final piece needed for the final rotation.

-

Ah... more to come soon?