Author's Note: A little introspective pre-canon yaoi to go with a drawing of Bankotsu I did that you can see at / d2wrzt9 (remove spaces). For Kira-Sweetness.
Brother
Sometimes I get so caught up in the power of killing and the freedom it brings, in the slashing and stabbing and the flow of blood, that I don't even notice him. He's always there, at my back, delighting too in the pleasure of what we do and who we are. I can take him for granted when I need to because he belongs to me, with me, now and always. My brother, Jakotsu. My pretty butterfly and slithering snake, so skilled with his sword and so warm in my bed. I could go it alone, and I have done, but there is no other I'd have at my side than the laughing beauty in the kimono.
That is why, this night, when the killing is done and we're feasting on delicacies and spending gold as if it grows on trees like ripe fruit, I pause and watch him. I see his dancing eyes and his sweet mouth. His cheeks flush with drunkenness as strands of hair slip to his bared shoulder. Smooth flesh, solid with muscle beneath. I can't stop my finger from tracing a path across a shoulder blade. He giggles and breathes "brother" in my ear, then drapes his strong, lithe frame over my lap to peer up at me through long black lashes. I could have him, here and now, but I pause. He is mine, yet, at this moment, amid the bawdy celebration of the Band of Seven where our bond is known and accepted, I experience something new. I want to be alone with him, entirely alone. I want him to know I belong to him as well as he to me. Trust and love runs between us, both ways.
"Come, brother; come little butterfly," I say, and though he is the taller and older of us, he lets me lift and carry him to privacy, to a room of our own. The others part and let us pass. Though they prefer women's flesh—and I cannot deny I enjoy it too—there is no flesh but Jakotsu's for me now.
I lay him down on the sleeping mat, soft with blankets and pillows, fragrant with night air and the smell of spring blossoms. The moon's glow lights the small room through the paper screen. My lover looks up at me, head cocked and eyes wide. He expects me to hastily disrobe and claim him. I can see it in his expression. But that is not how this night will be. Tonight, I want to fan the flames of his desire to blazing.
Once I close the panel to give us what solitude can be had, I stand before him. Slowly, I begin to undress. I unfasten my obi as I hold his gaze. He smiles at the familiar gesture, but I am careful, deliberate. I let my haori fall open, bare beneath it. He watches, licking his lips. It slips down one shoulder. I offer him a small, knowing smile, and eyes that smolder for his approval. I drop my hakama to reveal the flesh's truth of his effect on me. "Do I please you, brother?" I ask.
"Oh yes, brother," whispers my Jakotsu, voice rich with all the passion a man could ask for. He is magnificent in the moonlight. Lover and assassin, man and woman, fierce and sensual and mine.
"Show me," I murmur, coming to my knees beside him and offering myself into his arms.
May we always be as beautiful together as we are this night.