Main pairing is tentatively set to 18!fem27 although I would hear arguments for 6927

set in the entertainment industry, six years in the future (Tsuna and co. are around 20)

Sure, Tsuna knew who Hibari Kyouya was. Anyone in the entertainment industry worth their salt knew Hibari Kyouya, God's gift to models and the small screen.

...That didn't really explain why she was currently texting him a scandalous picture of herself. Clarification: forced to text.

...Or actually, why she had his number in the first place. The Skylark was as elusive as they came—if she was close to him at all, she would have asked him for tips on avoiding the paparazzi, because it's never goddamn Hibari Kyouya's private life being plastered on tabloids everywhere.

Fucking Drunk Jenga was the worst thing ever to be invented.

"Go to the party," Reborn drawled.

Tsuna looked up in surprise, despite knowing exactly what party he was referencing. She had only been begged to go twice today—most of her friends had already given up on persuading her. Haru had been especially persistent, and, well, Gokudera was just tenacious. It was a house party. Nothing big, but there was going to be alcohol involved, and Tsuna just happened to be just a little dangerous with alcohol.

Tabloid-headliner dangerous.

She wasn't a damn lightweight either, but alcohol boosted her confidence like nothing else. Enough to accept outrageous dares, like the one when she went skinny-dipping in winter and ended up with a cold the next day...right in time for her Milan shoot. And there was that one time when she had to put on dinosaur pajamas and parade around two blocks on Tokyo while singing the Godzilla theme song. That particular one had gotten her in some serious hot water with Reborn, who then barred her from parties for a while.

She was a self-respecting, grown-up twenty-year-old who could make her own decisions! Just not around alcohol. Or Reborn.

"You're lifting the ban?" she asked suspiciously. "Who are you and what have you done to my agent?" That earned her a light cuff over ear.

"I'll let this one slide because I'm going with you."

Tsuna's eyes widened. "In that case, I'd rather not go—"

Reborn cut her off with a finger to her lips and a dangerous smirk. He tilted her chin up. "As your agent," he said silkily, "I advise you to go to this party."

Hook, line, sinker. Godfuckingdamnit.

Hmm, she could almost pretend that Reborn wasn't even there. She did get a slight chill from seeing him with Mammon though. It looked like they were conspiring something. And she did try to stay away from the alcohol. She really did. Enough of her friends were there for her to enjoy herself and loosen up from her packed schedule—which come to think of it, she had the next day all to herself. Reborn had planned that somehow.

So when Lambo announced that they—which included everyone—were going to play Jenga, Tsuna immediately thought it was a bad idea. Her intuition prickled—better sit this one out.

"Ne, it's been such a long time since you've been able to play with us, Tsuna-chan!" Haru hooked her left arm with hers.

"It'll be fun, I promise," Kyoko said almost devilishly, taking her other arm. Together, the girls dragged the not-quite-struggling Tsuna to the living room, ignoring her half-baked excuses.

"Kufufu~ Guess who just joined the party?" Mukuro said, a handsome smirk playing on his lips. Yep. Still sexy, Tsuna thought, seeing brief flashes of avery intimate modelling session before rolling her eyes skyward when she realized she was in it for the long run. "What kind of drink do you want?" he asked, his voice sending pleasant shivers down her spine.

"Mix me some Skyy," Tsuna said absentmindedly as she set to work on helping the others build the Jenga tower. She noticed lettering on the blocks and sighed, any hopes for a nice, normal game flying out the metaphorical window.

Enma was shitfaced. He was always terrible at holding his alcohol, but this time, it was really bad. And when someone as shy as Enma got drunk...

Yeah, he really shouldn't be standing on that table while singing a crappy rendition of Baby, It's Cold Outside.

"Make out with the third person to your left," Mukuro said, his voice somehow managing to carry over Enma's screeching. He glanced to his side, smile widening when he realized who it was.

Tsuna sighed, taking a gulp of her drink before getting up to move. The liquid courage burned soothingly down her throat. She looked at Mukuro petulantly, her lips pressing together into a pout.

"Are you going to get up?" she asked.

Mukuro patted his lap, not taking the bait. Come here.

Gokudera looked like he was about to have a coronary. Don't do it, his eyes pleaded.

Tsuna shrugged Gokudera had known Mukuro was showing up at Lambo's house party, he'd not have asked Tsuna to come at all. The two didn't mesh well together—it might have been a little to do with Mukuro's incessant hinting that there was something going on between him and Yamamoto. Or it might have been the prankcalls. Maybe that one time he convinced the silver-haired accountant to cross-dress for "charity and goodwill."

She stepped nimbly over Mukuro before crouching down to settle between his long legs. She lifted her eyes to meet his heterochromatic gaze, slowly trailing a hand over his chest to reacquaint herself with his musculature. Wow, he's still so toned, Tsuna marveled inwardly while biting her lip. She ignored the chanting in the background—"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"—and stretched up to whisper in Mukuro's ear—"Did I ever tell you why I like you so much?" She hesitated before lightly nipping at the shell of his ear. Mukuro barely suppressed a shiver.

"Since when, kitten?"

Tsuna smiled deviously and withdrew a Jenga block from her breast pocket. QUESTION MASTER was emblazoned on its side. "Remember this?" Anyone who answered a question from her that night had to take a shot.

"You toy with my feelings," Mukuro said, feigning hurt. He smiled dangerously as he pulled Tsuna closer to him, their chests flush. "I'll drink my due, but I believe you owe me something first." Tsuna's eyes fluttered shut as Mukuro closed the distance between them. Just feel. His hands gripped her hips firmly.

His hands grounded her—this was real, this was happening.

"Mukuro," she breathed, hardly believing herself. "Mukuro," she repeated as they broke their kiss, this time in a more ragged voice.

The kiss carried the same underlying currents of desire as their past affair. Mukuro teased his tongue across her full lower lip. She could feel his smirk when she parted her lips for a deeper angle, absently noting that the game was continuing without them. Lazily, she decided that she didn't really care, not when Mukuro was threading his fingers through her curls in such a heavenly, toe-curling manner—

"It's gorgeous," he murmured, bunching her long hair around his hands like rope. She trembled when some of the soft strands landed on her exposed skin. "You're gorgeous."

She arched into Mukuro's touch, the older male knowing exactly which buttons to push to rile her. She dimly noted that he was snaking a hand under her shirt to hold her closer to him and shivered at the coolness of his hands pressing against her bare skin. She was able to taste the scotch on his tongue, briefly wondering if he thought her Skyy to be too sweet before remembering a different issue—the mild inappropriateness of their position. Oh god, what if Reborn sees us? She reluctantly pulled away, shifting to prepare herself to get up and out of Mukuro's lap. She squeaked indignantly when Mukuro held her firmly against him, stiffening when he gasped lightly at her continued movement.

"Dolcezza, you are trying to kill me," he said, gazing down at her as he stroked her cheek. Tsuna blinked hard at the familiar Italian endearment.

"Dolcezza, what in the world are you trying to do?" he said, a laugh playing on his lips.

"Unbutton your shirt," she said, scowling as if it was obvious.

She could feel a blush heating her cheeks, and she knew sooner or later her emotions would come to a head; she honestly was not in the mood to deal with something complicated.

"Mukuro, I—"

Seeing the sudden pensiveness in her eyes, the Italian shushed her with a quick, chaste kiss on the lips.

"It's okay," he said, and Tsuna could do nothing but stare and grasp almost needfully at his shirt. The curiously mismatched eyes, aristocratic nose, the inviting lips, features that at one point she had traced over in bed—what was ok? The mess—

"Oi, Tsuna," was all the warning she was hit by a piece of chalk. She whipped around, rubbing the back of her head.

"Reborn, that hurt," she complained. Oh. Shit. She hastily untangled herself from Mukuro, who crossed his legs nonchalantly as she rose.

"It's your turn," her agent intoned. She shot him a dirty look. That's what he hit her with a lethal piece of chalk for?

"It's your turn!" Kyoko and Haru repeated gleefully. Tsuna sighed under her breath—why were they so excited? Her intuition tingled uncomfortably as she drew out a block that wasn't going to put the rest of the tower in peril.

"Take a dirty picture," Tsuna read out loud, voice shrinking as she continued, "Send it to somebody not in the room—no parents or close friends." She looked up at her friends, feeling her cheeks heat up as some of the guys who were playing leered at her—Ken? Aoba?

At least her friends had the decency to pale a bit at her situation before exchanging mischievous looks.

"Continue the game. I'll make sure she takes it," Reborn said smoothly, his voice somehow carrying over the racket in the room. Gokudera looked like somebody just murdered a kitten in cold blood in front of him. Mukuro took a scotch shot. Tsuna followed suit with her drink—she was going to need it.

Reluctantly, she trailed after Reborn, who was lead her to an upstairs bathroom. "So you're going to save my dignity by telling them I took the picture, right?" she said hopefully, casting a sideways glance into Reborn's eyes. Dead eyes, she shivered, knowing he meant business. "Don't know what kind of sexual kick you get out of this—" she muttered before yelping when Reborn threw a phone at her.

"Save the number. You'll be using it." Often, he mentally added. If things go according to plan. Watching Tsuna gape at the screen was amusing.

"H-H-Hibari Kyouya?!"

And that was how she ended up inside a bathroom with her high-waisted shorts around her ankles and her shirt open at the chest area to reveal a pink, polka-dotted bra and pulled indecently down in an attempt to cover the important parts.

God, if you're listening, please smash Hibari's phone right now.

She took a deep breath and modeled a "come hither" look—complete with a curved finger and a salacious smirk—then closed her eyes and clicked send with trembling fingers, essentially sealing her doom.

I need a drink.

She was met with chaos in the party room. By this point, most people were beginning to get sloshed. Aoba was goading him with his arms drawn up tightly to his chest—if not for her mortifying situation, she would have thought it to be comical.

"Tyrannosaurus Rex,"Kyoko mouthed.

Ken—at least that's what she thought the unruly and spiky-haired blond's name was—was taking a Jenga block with two butter knives.

"Edward Scissorhands," Haru supplied.

Since Ken didn't have the butter knives when she had left earlier, she could only assume the circle had gone twice without her. Luckily, she was seated to the proximal right of Ken. She wouldn't have to go until the circle looped again.

"Tsu-chan, can I borrow your phone?" Kyoko asked, giggling. "I need to give onii-chan directions to come pick me up." Seeing that she was indeed too tipsy to drive herself home, Tsuna unsuspectingly handed over her cell, missing the calculative glint in her eyes.

Gokudera drew "Okayama Yasutaka." The tallest person in the room drank. Mukuro downed a shot, but not after smirking humorously at Gokudera's expense—he wasn't short, but was noticeably one of the shorter males in the room.

Tsuna contemplated taking the seat next to Kyoko since her current one was being filled by someone she didn't know, but a sideways glance from Mukuro as he leaned his head towards the empty spot beside him was enough to change her mind.

Haru drew "Date" and surprisingly, picked Gokudera to switch drinks with. The two were constantly embroiled in heated shouting matches, but they were actually being semi-courteous to each other tonight. Tsuna had a sneaking suspicion something had happened between the two that she had missed out on.

The game continued with little interruptions, some people dropping out every time the Jenga tower crumbled—rather, they were too drunk to continue. The eighth time the Jenga tower was rebuilt (with considerably less blocks than they had started off with), Tsuna was growing bored—she only had a pleasant buzz, and Mukuro had been shooting her suggestive looks all night. Frankly, all she wanted to do was bring him back to her house so they could have a romp in her bedsheets. She flushed at her suddenly indecent thoughts, hoping that her face didn't reveal her intentions. Reborn would kill. Plus, Mukuro deserved to be in the dark for a while from her lust for him. He could be an egomaniac at times.

There were only seven people left, including her—Gokudera, Haru, Kyoko, Mukuro, Lambo, and Ken, who looked to be on the verge of passing out. She didn't know why the game was still continuing—everyone who was going to hook up had done so already, and everyone who wanted to get drunk had done so already—but Lambo had been strangely insistent on playing again.

She only noticed that there was a newcomer when Mukuro muttered "Oh, hells," underneath his breath. Even from a distance—the next room, actually, where he was conversing with Reborn—he looked breathtaking—hair as dark as a raven's wing that was cut wildly, eyes and posture that commanded attention, a sharp and angular face that was devastatingly handsome—Tsuna blushed furiously as he and Reborn cast their gazes at her, knowing she was the topic of their discussion. Who was he, though? She didn't recognize him. Maybe an up-and-coming model? An actor? A manager, perhaps? She wondered why Mukuro seemed slightly provoked by his presence.

"You know him?" she asked curiously.

Mukuro smiled tightly. "Kyouya is an old...rival."

Kyouya? Tsuna's eyebrows knit together, trying to place the familiar name, eyes suddenly widening when she remembered the new contact she'd just added to her phone—Hibari Kyouya. N-No way. Certain that she was crimson in the face, any confidence she had faltered when she realized she'd sent somebody so heartbreakingly attractive a raunchy picture of herself—not to mention Japan's most notorious photographer. She pressed her hands to her face and moaned softly in shame. Shit. She wondered if it was appropriate for her to get up and make a hasty getaway. Her heart faltered in her chest when he started towards their direction—each step carefully placed and full of purpose. Tsuna refused to peek at him as he drew closer, stubbornly turning her attention to the Jenga game as if nobody else noticed Mister Tall-Dark-and-Dangerous approach.

Mukuro observed her with mild amusement. She was so similar to a bunny. She was as cute as one too, although he could personally confirm that that was only one side of her multifaceted personality. The things she could do with her mouth...

"Pineapple-head," a smooth and rich voice said. Tsuna shuddered. Even his voice sounded like an invitation to the bedroom. But...Pineapple-head? Almost no one had the audacity to call Mukuro such a comical nickname, even though the styled tufts of hair at the crown of his head did closely resemble the spiky leaves of a pineapple.

"Birdy," Mukuro returned easily, although without the acidity Hibari's had carried. "To what occasion do I owe for your gracious company?" he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm. Don't look up, resist temptation, don't look up, resist temptation, Tsuna chanted like a mantra. She could practically feel a pair of eyes drilling a hole through her head. She looked at Gokudera, only to find him looking at Hibari interestedly. Of course, Tsuna groaned inwardly. As a director, he was incredibly impressed by Hibari's use of depth and angle as well as his equipment. His equipment. Goddamnit, she was so distracted.

There was no reply, but Mukuro didn't look like he expected one. A few moments later, she could hear a bottle being opened. She looked up, craning her neck to see what he was preparing. Curiosity killed the cat. Gin and tonic, a Tanqueray and Schwepps combo. Bitter. Why was she not surprised?

"Boring," Mukuro yawned.

Right. She was supposed to be finding a way out of this party before she embarrassed herself in front of the new sexy stranger. She looked over at Kyoko, wondering if she could hitch a ride with her older brother, Ryohei. He wouldn't mind at all. Wordlessly, Kyoko winked at her and scooted away from her. She stared at her best friend in confusion before a set of long legs made their space fluidly beside her. Tsuna gulped and averted her eyes. This was not happening.

"I didn't take you as the type to play drinking games," Mukuro goaded. "Did you finally take that stick out of your ass?"

"Unlike you, I prefer not to have one up there in the first place," Hibari retorted beside her before taking a drink. Tsuna's eyes followed the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed. Goddamn.

The Italian's eyes twinkled in amusement. "Oya oya, aren't you talkative tonight," he said before drawing a block.

Wait, wasn't it Lambo's turn? Tsuna wondered, looking for her self-proclaimed little brother. The sable-haired male with sleepy green eyes had made his escape from his own game. He was now beside Reborn and looking immensely relieved. Whatever Reborn was up to, she would find out tomorrow. Her mission now was to get as hammered as possible so that she wouldn't be able to remember anything in the morning. She took a huge drink from her glass, disappointed when she found that most of the ice had melted and diluted the alcohol.

"Give 3," Mukuro drawled. "Time for you to catch up Kyouya. Take 3 shots."

"Don't call me that," the photographer said with a scowl, but poured some of his drink in a shot glass. Tsuna turned away, aware that she had been more or less ogling him. Her turn. She pushed out a safe one in the middle of the tower.

"Strip one article of clothing," Tsuna deadpanned. Alright. Going home. "It's been a nice night, thanks for having me," she said, getting up, only to have Mukuro tug her back down to fall uncomfortably on her butt.

"Can't do it, dolcezza?" he challenged. "Since when were you so...cowardly?"

Tsuna took a deep breath. He's provoking you. Don't—

And then she made the mistake of looking back at Hibari, who was smirking in a devilishly handsome, panty-dropping way that said exactly "Wouldn't be anything I haven't seen before."

Fuck this shit.

She downed the rest of her drink and unbuttoned her shorts. Her friends watched her, slightly scandalized but giving her little V-signs of encouragement. She'd modeled in plenty of underwear and bikini shoots before— it wasn't like she was showing off any extra skin! And she was in admittedly good shape—nothing to be ashamed of, she thought with her teeth gritted. She shimmied out of her sky blue shorts, sorely tempted to throw them in Mukuro's face but decided not to after thinking twice about it. She self-consciously tugged her shirt down to hide her pink polka-dotted panties that matched with her bra, pointedly ignoring Mukuro's appreciative look. Not that anybody knew but Hibari. Her face felt like a volcano as he scorched her with a slow sweep over her with his eyes before moving to take a block. After reading it, he switched hands and took another block before drinking. Tsuna scowled as he nodded about imperceptibly at Kyoko to continue. Why was it that she got all the horribly embarrassing ones while other people got wimpy things like "Give 3" or "Switch dominant hands?" She resigned herself to another uneventful round. Seriously, she should have quit while she was ahead.

"Seven minutes in heaven," Kyoko read. "Elect two people to lock in a closet."

Fuck, Tsuna swore. Kyoko and Haru had been trying to hook her up with someone for the last month. Well Ken was out... Mukuro had discreetly propped him up against the couch to prevent him from choking on his vomit if he were to wake up. There was only Gokudera, Mukuro, and Hibari left, but Kyoko had a thing against Mukuro since he made a mess of things earlier and she must know that Haru had a thing for Gokudera so maybe—

"Tsu-chan and Hibari-san," Kyoko said brightly. The world could have ended for Tsuna for all she cared. She glanced frantically at the male beside her who she had been successfully ignoring (read: not admiring how sexy he was).

"Penalty drink?" Tsuna asked, offering up her refilled glass.

"Nope."

And that was how she ended up in a towel closet (the only one judged to be small enough) pressed up against an all-too-male chest. She resolved not to think anything like this could not get worse because if she did, she knew that Murphy's Law would bite her in the ass.

Thankfully, it was dark. Small mercies. Feeling braver because of the darkness or alcohol—not entirely sure which one, or maybe a little bit of both—she broke the silence.

"Sorry," she ventured. "About the picture," she amended quickly. On one hand, she didn't want to sound whiny by telling him Reborn had practically shoved his number in her face and told her to send him the risque picture. On the other hand, she didn't want him getting the wrong idea of her. She kept quiet, considering both propositions while being slightly perturbed at his silence, almost jumping when he spoke.

"Your hands," he said gruffly. Tsuna colored, thanking God fervently again for the cover of darkness. They were resting innocently on his chest. I-It's not like I was trying to feel him up!

"I—" She gulped. It just felt so nice pressed up against him. She could feel his breath on top of head, his chest rising and falling with every breath beneath her fingers. And he smelled so good. Like green tea and lavender, and an underlying scent that was conclusively male—it was hard not to smell him when her nose was practically buried against his chest. She shifted to get in a more comfortable position, tilting to look up at him in confusion when he stiffened. Well, it wasn't like she could see anything either way. It's seriously uncomfortable, she thought, trying to move in a way that wouldn't bother her jailmate.

"Stop. Moving," Hibari commanded as she wriggled.

"I'm sorry, just one second—"

"Or else," he threatened. Tsuna squeaked as his hands pressed against the flat of her back to bring her closer to him.

"Hibari-san?" Tsuna asked, trying not to panic. Oh god he's going to sue me for harassment.She squirmed a bit more—she was sure there was some extra room in the closet—when suddenly, a pair of lips slanted hard over hers.

This is not happening.

She didn't know that kissing Hibari was something she needed to experience until now. There was no teasing—just an intense ardor that Tsuna was shocked could exist between two strangers. She responded just as desperately—fisting her hands in his hair as he claimed her mouth almost brutally, giving her no chance to question his dominance. The soft, short strands sifted easily through her fingers. Hibari reciprocated with running his hands over the sides of her thigh before reaching around to caress the skin beneath her rear. Tsuna moaned lightly, hardly noticing that Hibari had backed her up against the far wall of the closet. She did notice, however, when he lifted her so that she stood on his feet.

"Hiba—" And then Hibari grinded his hips against hers and she lost all reason. She thrust her hips back down at him, reveling in the heavenly friction, their kiss turning sloppy and open-mouthed as their breathing grew ragged. She couldn't think, it was already too incredible to feel—

"Time's up!"

Yay, I'm back, sorta

Looking to update other fics, but I'm in love with this plot bunny