He loved this. He was just a ghost, weaving through the gyrating bodies, feeding from the manic energy of the crowd, but not giving any of it back. He let it wash over him, the frenetic movement, the wildness, the untamed, raw energy of a couple hundred people in a space meant for half that amount. He was the eye in the storm, a center of calm; his own movements calculated in their loss of control. He made his way through the mass of bodies, looking.
He found him after a good twenty minutes of searching. He was off in the corner, grinding against a girl with silky chestnut hair, and legs that seemed to stretch forever. Luckily for Kakashi, this young man was just as interested in men, making it all a lot easier. Now all he had to do was look more seductive, more fuckable, than that girl.
Pushing his way through the press of bodies he got close to his target, giving him a small coy smile. He supposed he looked that part, black jeans clung to his long legs, the top two buttons of his shirt not fastened, revealing a teasing amount of silken pale skin. The dimness of the club hid most of his scars. Slowly he began to sway to the music, running his hands over his body, and arching his back. He watched from under half-lidded eyes, as the young man's attention was caught, could practically see it flaming from behind dark eyes.
Confident, Kakashi strode over, sliding in font of the girl. She protested, but he barely heard her, it wasn't important now. He was close enough now to smell the sweat of the young man, to smell his aftershave, something faintly musky. He gave his little coy grin again as the other licked his lips. Sinuously, he rolled his hips against the young man, pressing close, and sliding an arm around the other's waist. He could feel the hairs stir on his neck as the young man leaned in, moaning in his ear.
"What's your name?" He whispered into Kakashi's ear.
"That's a secret." Kakashi murmured back against his neck, lips moving against warm, moist skin. He tasted the salt of sweat, the sharp bitterness of smoke. His fingers danced along, following his lips path, and suddenly he bit down.
The young man let out a gratifyingly loud cry, arching up and Kakashi could feel the press of the other's cock, even through two layers of cloth.
With a smile, Kakashi pulled back, and melted into the crowd, ignoring the calls that were soon lost in the chaos of noise. The tiny, poisoned senbon he had slid into the young man's throat should kill him in about ten minutes, giving him plenty of time to escape. He shouldn't even have felt it go in, and if he did, he would mistake the pain with the pain from the bite Kakashi gave him.
He loved this. For a while, he could just pretend. Just compartmentalize all his feelings, his guilt, his fucking conscience, and ignore them all. He was free in a way, weighed down by nothing. Just a ghost, floating and feeding on energy.
He was gone eight minutes before the screams for a doctor started.