Title: Family Dinner Night

Rating: PG

Pairings: light pairings; 8059 main

Warnings: Crack, probably ooc-ness. Pointlessness! A little language.

Summary:

Why he had allowed family dinner night to continue was beyond him, but there it was, marked on the thirtieth of every month in big, bold, red letters.

Letters of death.

AN: LET'S PRETEND THE BOYS ARE LIKE... 18 IN THIS. YES. GREAT AGE. 18.

Tsuna's day had been hell. Negotiations with the Larosa family had been disastrous- six hours of discussing property values and the destruction of one of the other family's restaurants due to the misbehavior of his own famiglia (really, did Hibari and Ryohei have to spontaneously fight there? Did they really find it necessary?! Could the two not consume a simple meal in fucking peace?!) led to a lot of apologizing on Tsuna's part, and a lot of strained signing of documents. Five million bucks down the drain, dammit. A small drop in the bucket, really, but the amount of money still made Tsuna cringe.

"Aspirin," Tsuna moaned after the Larosa's diplomats had left his office, hand fishing in a drawer until they clenched around the holy bottle of pain relievers. "God, this headache..."

After downing the pills with the wine he had poured (wine, wine, he was so sick of wine it was insane, but it was so... readily available), Tsuna rubbed his forehead and slumped into the lavish cushions of his chair, wanting nothing more than to just relax and maybe take a little nap. He smiled to himself, hands coming to rest folded across his belly, shoulders slumping. A nap sounded-

"JUUDAIME," A few polite knocks echoes throughout Tsuna's office, making him frown and look up. Naps. Naps were a pipe dream in this place. "I SEE THAT THE LAROSA FAMILY HAS LEFT. ARE YOU READY?"

Tsuna sighed. What now, really? Did Mukuro give candy to small children again? Did Yamamoto manage to fall down stairs? What could he possibly need to be ready for? "What is it, Gokudera," He asked monotonously, headache raging within his skull. Maybe the wine-aspirin combo had been a bad idea.

Tsuna watched as the door to his office was cracked open, Gokudera's eager face popping in like a ray of sunshine. "It's family dinner night!" He announced happily- oh god, Tsuna thought. Why is he so happy.

Then.

Oh, shit.

Family dinner night.

Family dinner night was a novel idea thought up by one younger, insanely-more naive Tsunayoshi. After his return from the future it had been quite apparent that his family was something to be treasured and cherished, embraced and accepted. After all they had been through together, shouldn't they all come together occasionaly and share the presence of each other in a nice, family-friendly atmosphere?

Tsuna had quickly been disillusioned of that stupid, stupid idea about ten minutes into the first family dinner. He had sat, helpless, and watched as his precious family dissolved into yells, smoke, and plates of flying spaghetti.

Half of his guardians had left the restaurant on stretchers that night. If forced to recall the event, Tsuna could clearly remember the laughter of one Rokudo Mukuro, sitting calmly, politely in the aftermath of the battle, untouched and enjoying a plate of fettucine. It had chilled him to the bone.

Why he had allowed family dinner night to continue was beyond him, but there it was, marked on the thirtieth of every month in big, bold, red letters.

Letters of death.

Tsuna was both relieved and nervous to see that he and Gokudera were the first to arrive to this month's restaurant- a small, family owned pizzeria with large (secluded, thank god) tables and dim, relaxing lighting.

The owner met them at the door, shaking Tsuna's hand and thanking him for his esteemed patronage. Tsuna laughed and felt horribly guilty, knowing that chances were, the place would suffer horribly from their visit... somehow.

"Juudaime," Gokudera simpered enthusiastically, shaking Tsuna from his gloomy thoughts. "Look, here's our table!" He led Tsuna to a large, circular table and pulled a chair out for Tsuna to sit in, smiling widely with sparkles in his eyes. Tsuna smiled a bit forcefully and took his seat, waving Gokudera off as the other boy tried to fold a napkin over his lap.

Tsuna was quick to figure out why Gokudera was in such a good mood- the bomb-freak was actually getting to sit next to his beloved boss for once, which was actually a relief to the smaller boy. The last few family dinners had born witness to Tsuna set between combinations of Hibari, Ryohei and Mukuro, all of whom made Tsuna want to drown himself in his wine or cry in shame. Or both.

As long as Gokudera didn't try to play footsies with him, he was fine with this arrangement. That, however, was most likely a vain hope.

An awkward session of 'reading the menu together with Tsuna / Gokudera 'discreetly' smelling Tsuna's hair' was broken by an easy laugh, making Tsuna slump in relief and Gokudera prickle like someone had dropped a crab down his pants.

"Hey, Tsuna, Gokudera," Yamamoto greeted genially, hand raised. "Sorry I was so late. I see no one else is here yet-" He paused in the middle of pulling out the chair on Tsuna's other side, a fork stabbed into his hand. He laughed and dislodged the fork (and the hand Gokudera had wrapped around its handle). "Haha, Gokudera, if you wanted me to sit next to you all you had to do was ask."

And so it came to be that Yamamoto cheerfully stationed himself next to Gokudera, who all but forgot his menu time with Tsuna in favor of bickering at Yamamoto.

"The spaghetti sounds good," Yamamoto noted, flipping a menu open.

"You don't even know what spaghetti is," Gokudera snapped, pulling the menu from the other boy angrily. "I'll order for you, you retard."

Tsuna sighed. How long was it going to take for this freaking aspirin to kick in?!

Family dinners always began in one way - indecision. Over seating arrangements, sure, but mostly over food.

No one ever could decide what to order. Ryohei never settled until the waiter reccomended the most extreme item he could possibly consume (this had once ended with an entire roasted cow being brought to their table). Mukuro would just be freaking shifty about the whole ordering process until he finally settled on noodles, laughing the whole time while looking over his menu. Gokudera would mutter and hiss about what to order Yamamoto (something the idiot wouldn't kill himself over trying to comprehend), elongating the process in which it took him to get something for himself (he was a picky eater). Hibari was the easiest. He just ordered steak. Raw. Bleeding raw. (Ryohei thought this was pretty extreme of a meal choice. Tsuna just thought it was scary and nauseating.)

Tsuna just ate pizza. (A classic, Gokudera would congratulate.)

This family dinner night was no different.

Tsuna had long chosen his dinner choice of the night (cheese pizza) as his guardians slowly filtered in, one by one, to take their places at the table. No one had ever missed family dinner night.

"You're looking well, Tsunayoshi," Was Mukuro's way of greeting, totally ignoring Gokudera and Yamamoto, who were more than capable of ignoring him on their own.

("You can't handle ravioli, you'll spill it all over," Gokudera snapped, rejecting Yamamoto's suggestion. "I'd end up feeding you."

"That's okay," Yamamoto said happily, suggestively. "I'm sure anything you feed me would taste delicious, haha." Leer leer.

Tsuna wanted to bang his face into his butterknife.)

"Mukuro," Tsuna said lightly, nodding at his Mist gaurdian politely. "I hope you're doing well,"

Mukuro smiled, eyes crinkling. "Of course." He held out his hand, a rose appearing in it. He held it out to Tsuna, who stared at it incredulously. "For you, Vongola Tenth. Kufufu."

Tsuna took the fake rose and set it next to his plate. Awkward. "Uh, yeah. No need for such formalities, really." He rubbed the back of his head, cursing silently as Mukuro slid into the seat next to his.

He would have to be on his guard tonight.

And so they showed up, one by one. Ryohei was next, arriving shirtless and flustered.

"I was fighting a burglar," He explained. "It was so extreme I took a swim in the river!" He shrugged, helplessly. "I somehow lost my shirt in the process."

Mukuro, Tsuna was horrified to notice, was leering at the boxer.

"Er," Tsuna said loudly, hoping to put an end to the staring. "That's okay, Ryohei. We are the only people eating here tonight, I'm sure no one will mind, aha..." Did the other boy run here without a shirt?! THAT WAS INDECENT. Tsuna refrained from saying this aloud.

"Fucking freak," Gokudera sniffed quietly at Ryohei, frowning at the other boy's glistening pectorals. The warm, soft lighting really announciated the hard muscles and curves of the boxer's torso, making the lithe abdominal-

"I'm getting ravioli," Yamamoto said coldly, noticing the subject of Gokudera's attentions.

"Oh god," Tsuna moaned as Gokudera took the bait, railing into Yamamoto about something or other.

"I hear that the lasagna here is good," Mukuro commented, looking at Tsuna slyly from under his eyelashes. "Tell me, Tsuna, do you like lasagna?"

"I have never had it," Tsuna replied, feeling overwhelmed already. "You should try it."

"Hm. No, I think I'll stick to the noodles," Mukuro murmured, focusing on his menu once again.

"Sure," Tsuna replied weakly. Cheese pizza. He just wanted to order his damned cheese pizza and go back home to take a nice, long bath. That was all. Just a bath. Just a pizza. Was that so much to ask?

"God, you're an idiot," Gokudera said loudly, catching everyone's attention. Yamamoto smiled innocently.

"Is everything okay, Gokudera?" Tsuna asked, because for some reason it was his responsibility as the caring, kind friend/mafia boss he was.

Gokudera sputtered, face turning red. "Y-yes, Juudaime, I was just telling this baseball freak here that... uh..."

"They were playing footsies under the table," A voice announced coldly. Tsuna whipped around so fast his head spun-

'Hi-hibari!" he squeaked, eyes wide and deer-like staring up at the dark boy hovering above his chair, frowning. "When did you get here?!"

"I arrive when I please and answer to no one," Hibari answered calmly, taking a seat across from Tsuna.

"Pretty extreme words," Ryohei commented seriously, gazing at Hibari with respect.

"Don't talk, ever." Hibari mentioned, flipping through the menu with a serious expression.

Mukuro's eyes twinkled dangerously, a predatory smile widening across his face. "Ah, Hiba-"

"Mukuro," Tsuna commanded authoritatively, eyes suddenly burning with a deadly flame, voice deep and serious. "Please don't forget the no talking/looking rule between you and Hibari. Or else."

Mukuro chuckled and sat back, taking a brief sip of his water. "Understood, kufufu."

Tsuna sat back, disaster averted, and felt his flame die out. He sighed. "Where's the waiter?" He wondered aloud, almost half desperately.

"Can I take your order?" The waiter asked, appearing instantaneously at the young boss' whim. Tsuna had come to expect these things almost- everyone and their mother who knew who he was tried to go out of their way to impress him. It was... weird.

"Cheese pizza, please," Tsuna ordered, amazed that they had made it to this aspect of the dining experience without an explosion or bloodshed.

"We'll be splitting an order of ravioli and breadsticks," Gokudera said gravely, folding his menu. Yamamoto smirked behind his back, an expression that made Tsuna shiver.

"Filet mignon," Hibari announced tonelessly. "Rare."

"I'll have the all you can eat spaghetti," Ryohei decidedly loudly. "That's an extremely good deal."

"The noodle special," Mukuro said smilingly. "With extra parmesan."

The wait between the ordering and the food- that was usually the worst. Someone always ended up throwing a punch- either that or Mukuro ended up looking at Hibari wrong (or looking at Tsuna with a different kind of wrong), igniting a fight.

There was even that one time that Yamamoto and Gokudera had initiated a 'friendly' drinking contest (friendly to Yamamoto) and the two had gotten drunk off of their asses. It was that night the guardians had the displeasure of learning that Gokudera was an... affectionate drunk, and that Yamamoto was a perverted drunk.

Tsuna had wanted to burn his eyes out with bleach that family dinner night. It was after this escapade that Tsuna had outlawed alchohol at any dinner henceforth, for the sake of his sanity.

The food arrived on a blood-free table, the guardians restless and bickering but not fighting or making indecent overtures towards each other yet. Tsuna was impressed. Maybe his family was growing up.

He started as he felt a hand grope his thigh under the table.

Maybe not.

"Mukuro, please. Let me eat my pizza," Tsuna pleaded with a sigh, sounding very put upon. Mukuro turned to his pasta with a mysterious smile.

"Look, I can't believe you, you've got the sauce all over your lips," Tsuna heard Gokudera bitch. He refused to look up. Nothing good would come of it. Instead, he set to work on his pizza, slicing it up and pulling off a delicious, cheesy slice.

"That steak looks pretty extreme," Ryohei said to Hibari through a mouthful of spaghetti. "Can I have a bite?"

"Eat your own food, herbivore," Hibari responded, unamused. He lifted his fork, feeding Hibird a tiny piece of steak from where the ball of fluff was resting on his head. It chirped in happiness.

Meanwhile, Tsuna was devotedly working on his pizza. Halfway done. Then a check, then the car-ride home, then a bath. Mmmm, a bath.

Finally, finally, dinner was over, and everyone was sitting back and patting their stomachs, pleased. (Well, actually, no one was doing that. Except for Ryohei. But everyone was pleased, to different degrees)

"I've got the check," Tsuna said needlessly, and viola, the check was within his hand, the waiter obviously having been listening for his cue from the sidelines.

"That was fun," Mukuro said with an air of amusement, hand finding Tsuna's knee and squeezing. Tsuna sighed but bore this molestation with the dignity of a king, ignoring his bat-shit crazy Mist guardian in favor of setting a tip on the table.

"Extremely fun," Ryohei agreed, dislodging a munk of meatball from between his teeth with a toothpick.

"Everyone got along for once, haha," Yamamoto commented, hands mysteriously unseen under the tablecloth. Gokudera was actually smiling. Tsuna wanted to call a hand check, but knew better. Ignorance was bliss.

"Yeah," Tsuna said. "Are we all ready to leave?"

No one answered.

"It was a good night," Tsuna tried again, a bit anxiously. "But it's getting late. Let's head out."

Silence, once more. Everyone looked at their plates, looking shifty.

"Let's go clubbing!" A shrilling voice cheered from atop Hibari's head, making everyone stare at Hibird in disbelief. Hibari shrugged.

Ryohei propped himself forward, grinning. "What an extreme way to end the night!"

"I wouldn't mind," Mukuro purred, leaning closer to Tsuna.

"Haha, I love clubbing!" Yamamoto added his two cents, hands still... not visible.

"Wh-what?" This wasn't happening. They hated each other. Family dinner night wasn't about this freakish getting along, dammit! He was counting on them to be repelled from each other by their dislikes for each other! He just wanted a bath! A nap! Why was this happening?!

"Come on, Tsuna," Yamamoto laughed, standing up and looping his arm around Tsuna's shoulder. Tsuna grimaced. Where had his hands been?!

"I know a good place near here," Ryohei said, standing up and stretching. "The DJ there is extreme! I had a dance off with him once! It was over the limit!"

"I don't dance," Hibari mentioned, with a considering look on his stoic feautures. "But I will follow you herbivores to your destination."

And thusly began... FAMILY CLUBBING NIGHT.

(Tsuna later marked it on his calendar with a series of extremely angry faces.)

AN: POINTLESSNESS, I SAY! I DID THIS FOR A FRIEND. LET THAT BE KNOWN. FOR A FRIEND.