A/N okay, my first one shot ever! I'm pretty proud of it actually, BUT

yes this yaoi, yes this is rated M, but no, there is no lemon. There's a good bit of lime, but no lemon. Really, it's rated M because of how much it disturbed me to write it. It is my first Yaoi.

But anyway, I hope all my The One with the Green Thumb readers will except this as an apology for not updating.

Enjoy.

Kisame slipped into the seedy inn, trying to look anywhere but at the other occupants. He felt naked without his Akatsuki cloak, or Samehada, hanging in full view for everyone to gawk at in fear. Those couldn't be worn here; they were like asking for death. This little village here in lightening country was a paranoid place. They would kill any outside shinobi on sight. Ready. Fire. Aim. And they were strong enough to do it, too. So instead, his cloak and ninja clothing were stuffed safely into his bag and Samehada had been shrunk with a jutsu and placed in a secret compartment for safe keeping.

Along with the reason he was in this God forsaken place.

Kisame shuffled over to the bar and sat down, fully aware of the many eyes glued to his strange features. Strange features, he let out a small snort. Didn't he wish; he was ugly, and he knew it; as did everyone else. So much for silent and unseen. That was Itachi's area of expertise. Well, every area was Itachi's area of expertise. Except for raw strength, Kisame didn't think anyone could rival him in that. But he was confident in the rest of his abilities, too. He had to be, Itachi couldn't always be there. He wasn't now.

Zetsu had called him away to take care of some super secret Akatsuki business. Kisame didn't really care except that it meant he had to deliver the letter by himself. It was some correspondence between that snake freak Orochimaru and leader-sama. He didn't know what it was about, but he was sure it would eventually lead to him getting to slaughter a bunch of innocents, and that was always fun.

"One bottle of sake, please. Cold," he told the bartender. His voice was a low rumble and it carried no farther than the grubby man's ears. That was good; he wanted the other customers to quit their open staring already. Nothing to see here.

Kisame nodded his thanks to the man as his drink was set down in front of him and he took a swig. The coolness of it helped to cut the heat of the foul smelling room. Sweat, body odor, stale alcohol, and cheap perfume. He should have taken antibiotics before even entering.

"One bottle of sake, please. Hot." Kisame's ears pricked at the sound of a stool creaking beside him. He turned, fully intending on giving the courageous intruder the full strength of his shark like glare, but instead, he only gaped like a fish. Before he could be caught though, he quickly shut it again, and schooled his features into that of aloofness.

"Hatake Kakashi," he greeted him in a low voice, taking a swallow of his drink. The masked man nodded. He didn't much look like the famed and powerful shinobi that he was, but Kisame would recognize him anywhere. His headband had been interchanged for an eye patch, and his mask was dirty and tattered now. But his unruly silver hair, sticking up at odd angles, and his deceptively lazy visible eye, were unmistakable.

"Hoshigaki Kisame. Wasn't expecting to see you here." His voice was a warm baritone, and Kisame hated it instantly. The softness of it, made him somewhat jealous, but he tried not to think of that then. The copy-nin casually sipped his steaming beverage, looking for all the world, relaxed. Kisame forced his nervously bouncing leg to still. Two could play at that game.

"You're on my kill-on-sight list, you know," he said. He didn't face the leaf ninja, only regarding him out of his peripherals. The man shrugged.

"And you're on mine," he replied. Kisame nodded, casually in a forced way. He watched a moth flutter around one of the dingy light bulbs. The silence stretched. Why was he in this position? He wanted to kill the man beside him, no doubt about it. Hell, he would have enjoyed slaughtering the whole room. It would have been a nice release from all this sneaking and cowering. Yes, he would love to do his Akatsuki duty.

He just didn't know if he could. One on one, out in the open, with Samehada in his hand, Kisame was confident he could take him. Especially if Itachi was at his back. In this discreet environment, when he was already exhausted from a long week of travel, the odds weren't so good. He heaved a sigh.

"Shall we get it on right here, right now, or should we make a date for tomorrow morning," he asked. He finally turned his face towards him and raised a blue eye brow. Kakashi just glanced at him wearily. He shrugged.

"Why bother?"

"Hm?" Kisame tensed, reaching instinctually to his back to grab Samehada. When all his hand encountered was air, there was a moment of gut wrenching panic before he remembered where it was. He grasped his pack instead. The necessary signs and words to return his sword to its full length were already running through his mind, and his chakra churned, ready to act. The reactions weren't mutual.

"Why bother to fight? We'll get nothing out of it." Kakashi drained his small cup and over turned it on the counter. He stared at it idly. Kisame's eyes narrowed. Now what was this man playing at? He hated all these roundabout ways of doing things. Straightforward fighting and killing were better any day.

"Oh, I'll get plenty," he sneered, standing up. He took out his now baton sized Samehada and twirled it around in his fingers. Hell, if he didn't want a fight then maybe Kisame could get the upper hand. Surely there was no better way to die than while he was doing what he loved: spilling blood.

"And have one less ninja in the world?" Kakashi looked up and pinned him with a one eyed stare. Kisame's risen blood lust simmered back down as he gazed back. His makeshift baton slowed. "One less person who understands us? Make our world just that much lonelier?" Kisame looked away. The man brought up very good points.

He sighed and sat back down. He ordered more alcohol. What a strange coincidence, such a weird twist of fate that he should be in the same village at the same time as the feared Hatake Kakashi. Odder still that he seemed to have no more inclination to battle. Sitting here, in a comfortable silence, downing alcohol and letting a shinobi's more depressing thoughts flourish; it was quite contenting, if disheartening. Kisame finished up his third bottle and stared down into its empty cavity.

"It's hard, isn't it?" Kisame started in surprise at the throaty voice in his ear. He jerked to the side to see Kakashi now sitting mere centimeters from him. He looked quickly away once more. His skin prickled at the other man's proximity, but it wasn't in warning. He swallowed.

"What are you talking about," he asked gruffly. He shifted uncomfortably and ordered a water. No more sake for him. The alcohol must be playing tricks on his mind. His body felt the other man in his personal space. And it didn't want him out of it. He pulled his sack over his shoulder. If there wasn't going to be a huge good versus evil throw down, then there was really no reason for him to stick around was there?

"Being a shinobi, being alone," he murmured. A large hand slipped in between Kisame's legs, caressing the inside of his knee. For the first time, he began to feel very small. He knew he was physically much bigger than the leaf nin, but he felt as though he were looking up at him, shying away from him. He didn't like it, and he didn't like the shivers that ran down his spine. "With the only pleasures few and far between…" Kakashi's hand slid up the inside of his thigh, and was suddenly cupping him. His lithe fingers giving him such sparks of ecstasy, that a low, throaty moan escaped through his lips.

Kisame was up and off of that stool faster than even Itachi could have been. He should have hoped that no one had seen him, for only a high level ninja could have moved with that speed. But he didn't hope hard enough…

"Indeed. Good bye, Hatake-san." Almost visibly flustered, Kisame reverted back to polite language as he stepped away from the touchy shinobi. It was simpler to use manners, easier. It was not usually as satisfying as a well placed barb, but at times a safer course of action. To put it in a blunt way that he would never agree with: he was polite when he was scared.

Before Kisame could be dragged into any more unwilling conversation, he grabbed his room key and turned around, making his way to the narrow stairway. He didn't look back. If he had, he may have seen some things that would make him even more worried. As it was, he just hurried up and ignored the eyes that followed him. However, when he got to his room, he couldn't bring himself to enter.

Going in there, and shutting the door… it would make him by himself. Truly by himself for the first time in a long time. He'd had Itachi for years, constantly there with him. He was a cruel young man, hard and unforgiving, and, God forbid compassionate. But he was a person none the less.

Alone time was all well and good, but for Kisame, there was such a thing as too much. And he had had so much. With looks and fetishes like his, who could blame people? He knew he was evil, as people would commonly describe it, but maybe it needed a new definition.

Kisame slipped his key into the slot, but then sighed heavily and rested his head on the door. He had been doing so well. Coping until he could make it back to base. Where that loud mouth Deidara could make him wish he had a room to himself. It was that Kakashi, there in his space. There with him. Suggesting things, making him feel things. He had broken his resolve.

"Damn you, Hatake," he growled.

"It doesn't have to be that way." Kisame had to resist the urge to spin around at the low murmur. How had he snuck up on him? Itachi could barely even do that. But maybe that was because Kisame had memorized his scent. But for now, surprised though he was, he just let out another, smaller sigh, and turned slowly. The other man was leaning casually against the wall. Looking all that he was: calm, cool, collected, and very, very persuasive.

"What do you want?" Kisame practically snarled at him. He hated him for what he was. For his perfection. Kisame craved it so intensely, and there he was, flaunting it before him. So untouchable.

"I'm not asking for some sort of commitment, Kisame," Kakashi said, leaning back off the wall and taking a step towards him. It was the first time one of them had said the other's name in a friendly manner. It made Kisame tremble; with what, he wasn't sure. He took a corresponding step backwards and ran into the door. Another step forward. Nowhere to back up to. "I'm just asking for something to pass the night. To take the edge off… for both of us."

And then he was there, so there. He pushed Kisame back against the door, and captured his lips roughly. Kisame could only sink back against the door, unable to fight his attentions. A lithe but muscular chest slid against him, and suddenly his clothes seemed too hot. Thoughts. They wouldn't come to him. Legible feelings wouldn't come to him. He couldn't control himself, he couldn't fight back. It was all he could do to groan as Kakashi forced his tongue into his mouth, but he didn't think it was in protest.

Suddenly, he was backpedaling through the door Kakashi had somehow thrown open. There was a spike of panic as he realized there was a leaf ninja in his room, but it was silenced when the front of his shirt was ripped open and his chest touched in a way that made him twist and harden. How could he react?

Then he was falling back onto the unwashed bed. Kakashi's tongue stole Kisame's breath from his mouth as he crawled over him. The weight on his chest and the knee pressing into him was arousing to say the least. His heart thundered. Finally, Kisame managed to breathe again, his hot breath gasping, as the man released his lips. Clarity, it was on the fringes of his mind. If only he could reach it. He made a wild grab before teeth nipped his sensitive neck and his own low moan chased it away again.

Kisame fisted his hands in the grimy sheets, writhing against the aggressive other man. The titillating, violating man. Down the leaf's mouth went. From his lips to his throat, lower, lower. His collar bone, lower. His chest…

Lower

Lower

Low-

Kisame hit panic.

"Get off," he growled, but it came out strained and husky; pitiful to his own ears. Those hands crawled up his thighs. He struggled. "Get off," he tried once more, just a little more powerfully. And higher the hands went. His adrenaline shot up and finally: "Get the fuck off of me!"

Kisame threw out his muscular arm and shoved the other man off of him. The violating hands and mouth were ripped satisfactorily from his body and he let out a small shuddered sigh. He scrambled back, up the bed quickly. He knew he must look like a mess, a scared mess. But dignity was the last thing on his mind.

He threw Kakashi a withering glare.

"What the hell is your problem?"

Kakashi was standing at the foot of the bed, his hands stuffed lazily into his pockets. He seemed unflustered and unfazed despite his jump on Kisame and Kisame's violent rejection. He looked so normal, but he regarded Kisame with a mixture of frustration and reproach. But there was something that wasn't there, and it made his heart beat just a tad faster: disgust. There was no disgust.

"I told you already," he drawled. "Stop bothering to fight me." Kisame, though he did fight it, couldn't help but watch his lips move and form words. He'd never seen his lips, or his nose, or his face at all. He got the feeling that not many people did. It seemed a privilege. That made him relax, just a bit. Kakashi, the elite shinobi that he was, caught his gaze. "You've seen my face. You've got more on me than I have on you."

And what a beautiful face it was. Kisame, for all his hate of the man, and he did hate him, could freely admit that. It made Itachi's porcelain looks pale in comparison. Maybe that was part of the reason he didn't argue when Kakashi came close once more. "You can forget about it all in the morning. If you want to." Perhaps that was another part. Kakashi crawled up on top of him and leaned down over his ear. "Besides, did you want to spend the night alone?"

And that, right there, was the reason he submit.

Kakashi didn't know if it could be labeled truly as 'waking up.' He wasn't coming to after unconsciousness or a deep sleep. It was more of just pulling himself out of a necessary light doze. Something that had fooled his bedfellow enough to lull him out of his state of awareness. He had been mildly surprised though, when the larger man had completely fallen asleep, exhausted. I must have worn him out, Kakashi thought with a dry smirk.

Confident, he slipped out of gross sheets and stretched. He glanced back at the naked man he had left in bed. The blue of his skin actually seemed to complement the dirty gray of the covers. With a shrug, he turned to his pack and began to dig in it. There were things he had to do before he allowed himself even the luxury of pants or underwear.

What did it mean that he could sleep with both men and women on a regular basis and feel nothing? Was it the circumstances under which the encounters occurred? Was it because it was always for missions and the like, never because of true emotional need or attachment? He pulled a syringe out of his bag, along with a vile of clear liquid. What did that mean about his sexuality? Tsunade would say, with a small measure of affection, that it meant he was an unfeeling bastard.

He filled the syringe and flicked it to get rid of the air bubbles. It was no matter. He did what he did out of love for his village, or at least, for the memory of the love he used to feel. With the deftness from much experience, he crept to the bed and gently, slowly eased the needle into the crook of the ex mist nin's elbow. Then injected him swiftly. As soon as he was confident the liquid had entered the blood stream, Kakashi relaxed.

It was a sedative and partial muscle relaxant brewed by Tsunade herself. It was faultless. Granted, Sakura had helped a great deal as well, but he was beyond feeling pride for her. In any case, the Akatsuki would give him no problems, and he could find what he wanted and get out quickly. With his only opponent safely subdued, Kakashi picked up his clothes from the floor and put them back on. If for some reason enemy ninja came crashing through the door, it would be no good to get caught with his pants down.

Finally, he went over to where the Akatsuki's pack had been dropped and began to rifle through it. If the rowdy nin had not been so foolish last night, it would have taken him longer, as it were, Kakashi found the hidden compartment with ease. When they had been sitting at the bar, the man had suggested that they fight, and had brought out Samehada from the secret pouch. Hence, it had been revealed to Kakashi without him even trying.

He flipped it open and withdrew the scroll he had been sent to intercept. A letter between Konoha's two greatest enemies. A quick look over told him it was the right now, and he stood up. Then he dropped the bag casually, and made for the window. He hadn't counted on the noise being so loud.

"You…" Kakashi jerked in surprise to see the blue man stirring in the bed, his shark-like eyes blinking blearily. Why was he awake? Had Tsunade made some mistake in her potion? Had he grabbed the wrong vile on his way out? But then he remembered the man's insane amount of chakra. He may have had even as much as Naruto. The tranquilizer relied on depleting a person's chakra until the point of utter exhaustion. But he had large enough reserves to keep himself conscious.

"Me." He winced at his lameness dripping reply. Surely he could have come up with something better. Maybe it would appear aloof and uninterested instead. That would be acceptable.

"What…did you want?" He was struggling to come to. His body was weak and not well controlled, but his mind pieced things together quickly. He was not a threat though; the muscle relaxers would keep him in the bed. Kakashi paused, glanced at the window, back at Kisame, and then stood at the foot of the bed. He held up the scroll he had nicked.

"Just this." He twirled it in his fingers and made a fake curved eye smile. The man gave a frustrated and somewhat embarrassed groan, shifting and pushing the covers down to his bare abdomen. Kakashi watched him curiously. Somehow, he wasn't reacting the way he had expected him to. "Upset about it?"

"I don't give a damn about it," he growled back. His voice was stronger, but he was still bed ridden. Kakashi was somewhat taken aback, though. He sounded almost passive aggressive, as though Kakashi were missing something he should have been aware of. Not that it was truly any of his concern, but he wondered what he had done. Kisame huffed almost in resignation and glanced down at his body before muttering. "What did you do to me?"

"Slipped you a sedative," Kakashi replied with a shrug. His tone was flippant. His mission was all but complete, now he was simply a cat playing with a mouse. His enjoyment was shallow, though; his smile not reaching his cloth covered lips. It had been a long time since he had felt true enjoyment. "It should have a man sleeping like a baby, but with you it should only incapacitate you for a few hours. Plenty of time for me to get out of here, though." With that, Kakashi turned towards the window and made for a clean escape. He was stopped by a gravelly, and dare he say it, emotional, voice.

"It wasn't necessary." Kakashi looked back around and gave him a skeptical look. Kisame didn't see it though. He was staring blankly at the wall in front of him, his strong jaw set in defeat. Kakashi frowned and sighed.

"Oh?"

"I wouldn't have hurt you." This was not said emotionally. It was a bald statement of fact. Perhaps an unfortunate fact, but a fact none the less. Kisame pulled his eyes out of their glaze and drew them back to Kakashi. What the silver haired nin saw there would have made him shift awkwardly had he been a lesser man.

What he saw there was: nothing. They were empty. A painful sort of empty, as though something had been taken from him. It made Kakashi want to sneer at him, fill him with hate, anger, hurt, and humiliation instead. As it was, he only snorted.

"Somehow, I find that hard to believe."

"It's true."

"And why wouldn't you?"

"Because…" The blue man trailed off. They were getting to the core of the problem here. The reason the Akatsuki was acting so strangely. And somehow, Kakashi didn't want to hear it. He wanted to shut his ears and hurry back to Konoha. Whatever his sin was, he was sure he would pay for it and the rest of them when his time came. However, he heard it anyway.

"You were my first."

Silence. Moderately horrified silence.

Kakashi had done a number of things in his past and present and future, to a number of people. He had tortured, he had killed, he had seduced. He had torn down people's lives, ruined their homes, and massacred their families. He had done many unsavory and regrettable things. But the knowledge that he had heartlessly stolen another man's virginity put a pit in his stomach.

He wanted to heave.

"I hate you for it," the man spat, glaring at him from his pathetic, pitiful position. His eyes still seemed empty, but Kakashi hoped, strangely, that that loathing would grow. Sasuke's had. He nodded slowly. True, it took two to tango, but Kakashi knew that really the other man had had little choice. He nodded again.

"As you should." His voice was a mere mutter over his shoulder. "As you should…" Finally, he braced his foot against the windowsill. How he longed to return home. Back to his weak smut, and leave this wretched mission behind. He was about to do just that, when again he was stopped. This time, by the loud sound of angry ninja.

The ones from this village. They must have learned that there were outsider shinobi staying at the inn. But how? Then he remembered. Kisame had moved more quickly and gracefully than a normal civilian of his size, back when Kakashi had felt him up. And his own disguise wasn't exactly flawless. It was most certainly time to high tail it.

"You can't leave me here like this!" Kakashi spared a quick glance to the bed the hiss had emitted from. Kisame was still lying there, prone and completely vulnerable; ready to be slaughtered. He was struggling to force his large muscles to obey him, but it was in vain. The leaf nin hesitated for barely a second. "Give me an antidote or something."

Kakashi shook his head.

"There is no antidote. And yes, I can just leave you here." He launched himself out the window and landed on a branch outside. "Watch me." He knew the ex-mist nin was as good as dead, but that could only be perceived as a bonus. Whatever part of him that bred guilt over things like that was long dead. At lease he wouldn't die a virgin. Kakashi took off through the trees, and left the inn far behind.

There was one word that followed him though; spoken from the lips of an empty man at the gates of hell, with hate and hurt as its wings. An insult. It followed him through the forest. It plagued him as he stood in an empty clearing pondered a new revelation. The Akatsuki member, whom he had in effect just killed, was a better man, a better person, than him. Kakashi had gladly left him, while he had said he wouldn't have even hurt Kakashi.

It taunted him as that thought filled him with self loathing, and proceeded to trail him all the way back to Konoha. It distracted him while he tried to read Icha Icha. It disturbed his sleep, chased away his appetite. It was ceaseless. It even prompted him to write his mission report. Partly because he hoped that would satisfy it.

It tormented him so, that he even added it in as an extra detail, simple as it was. Yes, simple. Cruel, truthful, and simple. It would haunt him; picking away at his sanity, driving off anything precious to him. Yes, it would haunt him, to his grave.

"Bastard."

A/N And there it is folks. My first one shot. I really hope you guys liked it! Please please please reveiw if you did.

..Annnd... even if you didn't. See you next time. :D

~Yuki