Summary: The only reason he was stepping into the club with his two "friends" was because they wouldn't stop raving about it in his ear. That being said, Kyouya couldn't bring himself to regret coming along after seeing that amber-eyed dancer…
A/N: Muwahahahaha! Jikage wanted to write a story with a pole-dancing Tsuna, but she couldn't so I wrote it for her instead! LOL, I kid. I just wanted to write it for the sake of writing it. And to see what Jikage thinks of it. And of course to see your thoughts as well my dear readers! 8D
Song: Galvanize by The Chemical Brothers (because it is a great song to dance to, especially on a pole XD)
Warning/s: SLASH, OOCs, AU, no mafia, pole-dancing!Tsuna, language, suggestive themes
Disclaimer: I no own KHR or the song Galvanize. However I am tempted to own pole-dancing Tsuna... but I'm not that cruel. :3
Galvanize - To stimulate into muscular action by electricity; to rouse into action; startle; excite
Kyouya had never been much of a club-goer. He never really saw the appeal of dancing wildly with strangers, chugging down alcohol like it was water, and waking up in a stranger's bed the next morning. Even more so he didn't see the appeal in watching strangers dance on a stage or pole, wearing skimpy clothing or stripping them off one by one. Call him a prude, call him a stick-in-the-mud, call him anything you want, but it doesn't change the fact that the raven-haired man just found no appeal to such trivial (in his opinion) things.
But, despite all his opinions on the matter, Kyouya still found himself in downtown Namimori on a Saturday night, clad in rather tight-fitting club gear, and waiting outside a club whose neon sign flashed "Arcobaleno" in rainbow colors. His two friends, Mukuro and Byakuran (he'd call them acquaintances if it weren't for the fact that he had known them since middle school) stood at his side, posing dutifully for anyone who ran appreciative eyes over them. Despite being flaming homosexuals, those two loved any attention they could get, whether from girls, boys, gay, straight, or bi, it didn't really matter, as long as eyes were on them.
"How long do we have to wait out here?" Kyouya asked, ignoring that fact that he was complaining for the fifth time since they got there.
"Be patient Kyouya," Mukuro chuckled, flipping his bangs with a gloved hand as he did so and causing some effeminate boys near them to titter flirtatiously. "We'll get inside soon. Ran-chan here said that he knew one of the owners, so we just have to wait for her."
"She's a little late though," Byakuran said, smiling foxily while flipping Mukuro the finger for using the nickname he absolutely hated. "She said she'd be out here ten minutes ago."
Kyouya grunted noncommittally, eyeing a group of leather-clad adolescents, who were no older then they were, as they entered the club. He had been told that the club mostly catered to gays but didn't turn away any straights (surprisingly, they did get many straight customers and some of the owners were straight too). It was quite obvious though what their target audience was, considering that the word "Arcobaleno" was Italian for rainbow and, of course, the fact that the club had a flashing neon rainbow sign. Quite appropriate that.
"Oi! Gesso, get you and your friend's asses in here!"
Kyouya looked around to see a pretty but rather tough looking woman poking her head out from in between the bouncers. She had shoulder-length dark hair, scars along the right side of her face, and wore an outfit that was reminiscent of military garb though skimpier. She also sported a scowl on her face that could rival Kyouya's.
"Lal! About time!" Byakuran cried out, pushing his way through the line of customers with Mukuro and Kyouya following him. All three ignored the grumbling and indignant shouts of the other customers. "Where the hell have you been?"
A blush seemed to form on Lal's cheeks, unhindered by her scowl. "I was busy with a meeting."
"You were making out with Colonnello again were you?"
"Shut up and get inside before I change my mind on whether or not I'll castrate you with a needle."
"Ooh, can't wait to get your hands on my dick, huh? Too bad I don't swing that way, hun."
The creative insults Lal threw and the equally creative replies Byakuran shot back were lost in loud music as the little group stepped into the club.
Kyouya couldn't help the widening of his eyes as he looked around the packed place. It was quite the large room, something like a warehouse. The ceiling was painted with a mural of a bright blue sky with puffy white clouds at the edges and a bright sun right in the middle where the disco ball hung. The clouds continued down to the walls where they turned into a dark grey and depicted a raging storm with flashes of lightning piercing through the rain. The dance floor was more like a dance pit with three steps that led down to it and was in the middle of the room with a runway that led up to the stage opposite the entrance. Five feet tall platforms were set around the room, each holding a scantily clad male dancer, sometimes two, that gyrated to the music. On the left side of the room was the bar, on the right were booths and scattered tables and chairs, and on the second floor was undoubtedly the lounge area. Everything was finished off with a healthy serving of strobe lights that flickered every color of the rainbow and creeping mist across the floors spewed out by a couple hidden fog machines. All in all, Kyouya thought it was a strange kind of club (especially one named "rainbow") but it seemed to work for some reason. Maybe it was the low lighting.
"So, Kyouya, you like?" Mukuro yelled at him over the music as he turned to look at his friend.
"I've seen worse," Kyouya said back, not bothering to raise his voice, but Mukuro apparently heard him.
"Kufufu, come on then, let me buy you a drink. Lord knows you need them to loosen up that stick in your ass."
Kyouya narrowed his eyes at his pineapple-haired friend but followed him to the bar nonetheless. He noticed that Byakuran was already over there with Lal, apparently now arguing about something he didn't deign to find out. Not for the first time he had to raise an eyebrow at Byakuran's choice to wear only white with just accents of lavender, so that it matched his hair and eyes. That kind of clothing choice would make anyone raise their eyebrows and think "gay". Unfortunately Kyouya was a little dense about those kinds of things and, until that time in high school when he finally discovered Byakuran and Mukuro's orientation, he had always thought his white-haired friend had just been so obsessed with marshmallows that he decided to dress up like one too.
Heck, maybe he still believed that.
Taking the colorful purple drink that Mukuro handed to him and raising an eyebrow at it (Mukuro only smirked and raised his own indigo drink in a silent toast) Kyouya leaned back against the bar counter to survey the room. As he sipped his drink (which tasted quite fruity through the burn of the alcohol) his eyes roamed around the room. The dance floor was packed and he had the slightly insane thought that it looked like some grotesque gyrating monster with too many limbs. The people around him flirted, some even outright making out, with each other. He caught plenty of guys trying to catch his eye but he ignored them. He was only there because his friends dragged him there, not because he wanted to be some nameless nobody's one night stand.
Glancing to his left, Kyouya found Mukuro chatting with a small male who wore what looked like a school uniform and seemed way too young to be in the club, but had eyes so blue it was like staring into the sky itself. The heterochromiatic male always seemed to like the small and vulnerable types. Heck, his last boyfriend was some redhead who couldn't seem to walk ten feet without tripping over his own feet and was so clumsy he always wore bandages on his face and hands for his wounds. He was kind of pitiable actually, but Kyouya saw him as useless.
On the raven-haired man's other side was Byakuran without Lal by his side and smoothly flirting with a redhead with square blue glasses, who wore simple jeans and a blue shirt, and couldn't seem to stop blushing or stuttering at the white-haired man. Granted Byakuran did have a way with words (not like Mukuro who just seemed like a total pervert with every word that spews from his mouth, though how he was able to get boyfriends was a mystery for Kyouya) and he could be quite the gentleman when he's not making threats while smiling pleasantly or stuffing his face with marshmallows.
For the nth time, Kyouya wondered why he made friends with such weird people.
Finishing his drink, Kyouya set the empty glass down on the bar and, without saying anything to his friends, he started walking around the room. Guys, and even some girls, eyed him as he walked by. A handful of them were bold enough to approach him but Kyouya either glared them away or just outright ignored them. He had never been a vain person, but Kyouya knew that he was good-looking. Pale skin, midnight black hair, narrow blue-grey eyes; his appearance practically screamed "mysterious" and "dangerous" which always brought interested gazes on him. Coupled with the hot red dress shirt and black skinny jeans he wore, he was practically smoking.
Sure he wasn't vain. But that didn't mean he couldn't flaunt himself a little every once in a while.
Just as Kyouya stepped up against the edge of the dance pit, wavering on joining the dancing mob or just walking away, spotlights flicked on and swiveled to center on the catwalk that stretched out from the stage. The music changed into a heavy beat, feeding the anticipation that suddenly pulsed in the air. Most of the people in the club let out loud cheers and raised their hands in the air, excitement on their faces and practically sitting on the edge of their seats. Kyouya wondered what they were anticipating and also wondered if now was a good time as any to get the hell out of there. But when the curtains on the stage peeled apart to reveal who was standing behind it, Kyouya froze in surprise, his eyes growing wide.
Standing there, under the glare of the spotlight, was a man swathed in a large mantel that shone bright red, orange, and yellow and flickered like it was caught on fire. The man had spiky dark brown hair that was streaked with red and his eyes glowed amber, seemingly flickering with an inner flame. The crowd cheered for him, chanting out "Giotto! Giotto! Giotto!" in their excitement. Hearing them chant out his name, the man, apparently Giotto, quirked his rosy lips up in a smirk and then he strutted down the runway like a fashion model, the edges of his mantel flaring out behind him and the music changing to a techno beat to accommodate his strutting.
As he neared the end of the runway, which was circular in shape, a pole ascended from somewhere below. Giotto reached up to his mantel then pulled it off in a flourish, revealing the clothing he wore underneath; a vest that mimicked the flickering fire of his mantel, a dark red tie that hung loosely around his neck, hot red leather short shorts that left nothing to the imagination, matching boots with fire designs licking up the sides, and a pair of red gauntlet-like gloves that left his palms open for needed friction. The vest was worn open, showing off a toned and lightly tanned body that can leave anyone, girl or guy, drooling at the sight.
The sight certainly left Kyouya on the brink of climaxing in his pants.
The song that thrummed through the speakers suddenly picked up and the vocals started. Giotto placed a hand on the pole, walked around it, and then swung his leg up, hooking it around the pole and humping against it, eyes half-lidded and sultry to anyone who would look. He leaned back, one hand holding onto the pole for balance and the other dangling behind him, and he tilted his head to show off the expanse of a delicious sinewy throat. The crowd cheered for him, causing a little smirk to grace Giotto's lips again as he let his leg fall to the floor and began swaying his hips to the beat, holding onto the pole as if it was his dance partner and even leaning his forehead against it, lips slightly parted.
Down at the floor, Kyouya watched hungrily as the fire-clad man danced around the pole, hips swaying and jerking, limbs moving gracefully, and eyes always smoldering and suggestive. Never before had Kyouya seen such an enticing sight, one that made his stomach twist pleasantly and his heart beat hard against his chest and his pants to tighten at an alarming rate. He could barely hear the jeers of the patrons around him, his eyes fixed on the man dancing around the pole as if he was hypnotized by the tantalizing sight before him.
Midway through the song, Giotto heaved himself up the pole and started an acrobatic routine that seemed nearly impossible to accomplish. He lifted himself with only his hands, spreading his legs out in the air before him. He hung upside on the pole, his legs supporting him and his arms spread out at his sides. He held himself vertically and horizontally and even diagonally with only his upper or lower body. He slid up and down the pole, contorting into a variety of different positions that brought the crowd to near hysterics at his athleticism and flexibility. And it was still coordinating smoothly with the song.
Kyouya was so transfixed on Giotto's dancing body (as everyone else was undoubtedly) that he didn't noticed the amber eyes fix on him as well, the strangely colored irises roving up and down his form as Giotto went through his routine. He even didn't notice that when those rosy lips quirked up it was usually for him, as though the man was amused at him not noticing.
Soon the song ended and Giotto struck a pose, chest heaving and sweat glistening on his skin. Kyouya was practically salivating at the sight and he couldn't stop himself from glaring at the people on the dance floor who were reaching up to Giotto, not touching but no doubt wanting to. He wanted to bite those herbivores to death.
Kyouya's eyes shot up to the Giotto's face and they widened in surprised when he saw amber eyes staring back at him. The music smoothly transitioned into another song, this one a bit slower in beat and more sensual and Giotto started to sway to it, eyes locked on Kyouya's. The raven-haired man found it hard to swallow as his eyes flickered between Giotto's swaying hips to those smoldering amber orbs. Then Giotto's lips curved into a smile that wavered between seductive and amusement before a deliciously pink tongue flickered out between them, lightly wetting the folds of skin with saliva before disappearing back into the mouth.
Kyouya had to resist the urge to lick his own lips.
"Yo, Kyou-chan," a sly voice spoke in his ear as a hand curled around Kyouya's torso and pulled him back into a strong chest. Startled, Kyouya couldn't help but stumble a bit, but he soon regained his balance and turned to glare at his white-haired friend, who only smiled at him.
"What?" Kyouya hissed at Byakuran. How dare that marshmallow-loving cactus-head take him away from his Giotto-watching and called him by that ridiculous nickname to boot!
"Oh, nothing," Byakuran chuckled at his friend's pissed expression. "I just saw you eyeing that cute dancer up there. Gonna have him tonight?"
Trying not to blush in embarrassment and resisting the urge to glare (it wouldn't effect Byakuran anyway), Kyouya pushed himself out of his friend's hold and folded his arms in a defensive gesture. He hated the fact that, despite his utter loathing of Byakuran and Mukuro's attitude and personality, they were the only two who knew him so well. They knew that Kyouya was rarely attracted to anyone but when he was (which disproved the theory of him being asexual) he usually fell hard. It happened twice before and ended in Kyouya sporting a broken heart though he refused to show it.
"Are you sure you want him Kyouya?" Byakuran asked, dropping his teasing tone of voice and actually managing to look serious. "I never pegged you for the type to go after someone like him."
Again, the raven-haired man didn't answer, though Byakuran could spy the tilting on the raven-haired man's lips, as if the other man knew something that he didn't. That didn't sit too well on his stomach. Byakuran was known as a notorious gossip at their school and he was always the first to know anything on the rumor mill, so it frustrated him that he wasn't told whatever was on Kyouya's mind. Of course, it wasn't the first time something like that happened (Kyouya was a very private person, even to his friends) but it still bugged Byakuran.
Putting on his pleasant smile (the one that either made you feel welcome or just damn uncomfortable) Byakuran wrapped an arm around Kyouya's shoulders and pulled his face close to the other man. "You gonna tell me what's on your mind, little skylark?"
Having composed himself, Kyouya just turned to look at Byakuran with a raised eyebrow. Byakuran pouted, really wanting to know what his friend was thinking, but Kyouya wasn't letting up. When he realized that, he pouted even harder but stepped away and turned to walk back to where he had come from, leaving his raven-haired friend alone. Kyouya watched him go for a moment before turning back to the gorgeous dancer who was now spinning around the pole.
"Drama queen" were only two of many words that flitted through Kyouya's mind to describe his white-haired friend.
Back on the stage, Giotto settled from his spinning and leaned back against the gleaming pole, one arm held above his head and clutching onto it, and the other at his waist with a thumb tucked into his shorts, pulling them down low enough for his happy trail to peek out, to the delight of the crowd. Kyouya stared intently at the fiery dancer, hoping that the other's attention hadn't moved away from him in the time he had been having his little chat with Byakuran. To his (private) relief, Giotto locked eyes with him and smirked again.
Giotto's routine continued for another three songs, all of which Kyouya watched avidly from his position at the edge of the dance pit, eyes hardly straying away from that sinful body. Once he was finished, Giotto bowed to the near screaming crowd, collected any money that was thrown at him, then strolled backstage, sending one last saucy wink over his shoulder as he did so. It didn't escape Kyouya's attention that the wink was sent straight to him.
Letting out a breath, Kyouya tried to will down the arousal that was churning in his gut (no such luck, but it was a good thing his pants were so tight) as he walked towards the bar. He ordered himself a stronger drink and chugged down half of it before the burning alcohol took hold of him. He didn't think he could get so aroused by such a provocative sight, but it wasn't the first time he was wrong about something.
As he stood there at the bar, Kyouya pondered on how he would get an audience with that amber-eyed dancer. He had never been in a club before tonight so he wasn't familiar with such things. Maybe he should go ask Byakuran or Mukuro, but trudging through the crowd of drunk and horny customers didn't sound very appealing to him. Hm, decisions, decisions…
"Hey you, brooding fella," someone with a baritone voice said and it was accompanied by a tap on his shoulder.
Kyouya turned and found himself face-to-face with a tall, handsome man with dark narrow eyes and curly sideburns. He was wearing a suit with a matching fedora hat and a large, round, yellow pendant hung from his neck and rested against the middle of his chest. Kyouya had the amusing thought that a guy looked like he just stepped out of The Godfather.
"Your name Hibari Kyouya?" the fedora-man asked when Kyouya raised an eyebrow in question.
Kyouya's eyebrow only rose a little further. "Yes…" he drawled, wondering what the man wanted with him.
"Name's Reborn, I'm one of the owners of the club," said fedora-man as he turned away and beckoned Kyouya with a finger. "Come with me. Someone wants to meet you."
Not sure why someone wanted to meet him, but feeling just a bit too tipsy to care, Kyouya followed Reborn through the throng of customers. But instead of going away from the bar, like Kyouya had thought, Reborn led him around the bar to the other side and through a door that was labeled "Employees Only". Behind the door was a long, wide hallway where the music was muffled but occasionally became clear when the employee door was opened.
Eyeing his escort warily, Kyouya followed Reborn as the fedora-toting man led him down the hallway and around a corner before walking through another door. This led them to what seemed to be the employee lounge. It was large, spacious, brightly lit and nearly cramped with colorful but comfortable-looking couches and armchairs that sported equally colorful and comfortable-looking cushions. Those dancers who were taking their breaks were lounging around (well, duh), clad in fluffy bathrobes, and sipping hot drinks. When Reborn and Kyouya entered the room, all eyes landed on them and Kyouya had the distinct feeling that he was being scrutinized like a lion would their prey.
"Reborn!" a stereotypical gay voice sounded out and a man with multi-colored hair and wearing a pink bathrobe, bounded up to the two men. "Just who is this fine piece of man? And can I keep him?" the man gushed, wiggling a little as he blushed and ogled Kyouya.
Kyouya had to resist the urge to move far away from the man who, though he sounded effeminate, actually seemed much stronger and more dangerous up close.
"No Lussuria, you can't have him," Reborn said calmly, casually sliding his hands into his pockets. "He's been reserved."
The man named Lussuria pouted, along with the other men in the lounge. "Oh, you're no fun! But just who reserved him?"
Reborn only smirked before beckoning Kyouya to follow him again. "You'll see," he said as he led Kyouya out of the lounge, ignoring the loud protests of the men behind him. Kyouya gladly followed, not sure he could handle any more men who acted like Byakuran and Mukuro.
The rest of their trip was made in silence (neither of the raven-haired men were talkers) and in no time Reborn opened a door for Kyouya and gestured for him to enter. Inside was a simple room with two black leather couches, two matching armchairs, and a low table in between the four. A TV was mounted on the far wall and it was connected to what seemed to be a DVD player. Kyouya wasn't certain why a room like this would be in the club, but he didn't deign to ask.
"Wait here," Reborn told him. "The person will meet you soon." He then left, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Kyouya stood staring at the door for a moment before turning to inspect the room more. He wondered just who would want to meet him (thankfully it didn't seem to be that Lussuria guy) and he also wondered why this person didn't approach him themselves. Also he wondered why he actually let himself get brought in to meet this mysterious person. He blamed it on the alcohol.
The raven-haired man was so deep in thought that he didn't realize someone had stepped inside the room. This someone smirked with amusement at Kyouya's inattentiveness and the person quietly approached his back, tilting his head up and leaning in.
"Penny for your thoughts?" the person asked, speaking directly in Kyouya's ear and causing the man to jump slightly and whirl around in surprise.
"You…" Kyouya whispered in surprise when his eyes fell on Giotto's laughing amber eyes.
"Me," Giotto said teasingly, stepping closer to Kyouya and allowing those narrow blue-grey eyes to roam down his body. He was wearing basically the same thing he had been wearing when he danced, only everything was black, aside from the tie, which was still red, and his gloves had been replaced by armbands which had flame designs wrapped around it.
Kyouya quietly scrutinized the man before him, his arousal making another appearance in his stomach and groin. His hands twitched with the urge to touch but he didn't want to break this illusion. Not yet at least.
Still smirking, Giotto lifted a hand and placed it lightly on Kyouya's chest, his smirk growing wider when he felt the raven-haired man shiver beneath his touch. Gently, he urged the man to move until he fell back against a couch, the leather creaking at the disposal of his weight on it. Kyouya just looked up at him with lustful, yet slightly confused eyes.
"Just gonna set the mood a little," Giotto said matter-of-factly as he moved away from Kyouya and reached under the table, unashamedly displaying his perfect round ass to the near flabbergasted man.
Taking out a large remote control, Giotto pointed it at the TV and turned it on. It showed a blue screen and the logo of whatever label the DVD player had. Pressing the play button, Giotto tossed the remote onto the opposite couch before turning to Kyouya again, his lips still set in that seductive smirk as he lifted a leg and placed it on the couch right next to Kyouya's hip.
Seconds later, music started to pump out of the TV's speakers (along with what seemed to be a music video on the screen, but neither man noticed) and Giotto started pumping his hips to the beat, looking amused as Kyouya's eyes glazed over at his movements. He continued this for a few beats before he slid down to straddle Kyouya's hips and wrap his arms around the raven-haired man's neck.
"Hmm, you seem to like this very much… Kyouya," Giotto whispered as he leaned in to speak into the other man's ear again, still dancing slightly to the music.
Kyouya was still for a moment before his arms moved to wrap around Giotto's waist, hugging the amber-eyed man tightly and stopping the dancing. "I do. Very much," he nearly growled back, lightly nipping at Giotto's own ear. The dancer hummed lightly, tilting his head as Kyouya continued his ministrations. "Are you wearing contacts?"
"And your hair? Is it dyed?"
"No, they're fake. You would have noticed if they were dyed anyway."
"Good. You look better without them anyway."
Giotto chuckled, turning to nuzzle his face into Kyouya's silky raven hair. "I'm glad you think that," he said before pulling back and looking into the other man's blue-grey eyes. "I think there's only one more thing to say now…"
Kyouya smirked at the look in the other man's eyes, pretty sure he knew what his lap adornment wanted to say, since a specific memory appeared in his mind earlier the moment he saw the dancer appear on stage. "And what is that… Tsunayoshi?"
Giotto – whose real name now seemed to be Tsunayoshi – slid his hands into Kyouya's hand, roughly pulling the man's head back before leaning in, his lips hovering over the other's temptingly.
"I win," he murmured before finally closing the distance between them.
As his lips and tongue dueled with Tsunayoshi's own, Kyouya's last coherent thought was, I'm going to have to bring a camera to school on Monday.
"Hey! Hey Tsunaaaa!" a slurred voice drawled out and a young man, with brown hair and eyes that were slightly glazed over, turned to look to his completely sloshed friend.
"Whassit Yamamoto?" Tsuna asked, pulling away from the warmth of his boyfriend's side to lean closer to another man with short black hair and a wide grin.
"I wan' you to make a bet with Hibari here!" Yamamoto Takeshi exclaimed, waving a hand at the bored-yet-still-tipsy-looking Kyouya who was nursing his glass of whiskey.
"Oh? What kind of bet?" Tsuna asked, ignoring the glare Kyouya gave him.
Takeshi giggled (it can't even be called a manly giggle, poor guy) before saying, "I dunno! I just wan' you two to make a bet and shee who would win!"
"I know!" another slurred voice rang out and everyone turned to Gokudera Hayato, who was completely red in the face and looked about ten seconds from falling flat on his face due to the alcohol in his system. "I bet… I bet Shuna here can't become a shtripper or a dansher in shome gay club without Hibari knowing!"
"Oooh, thash's a good one!" Takeshi giggled again. "I bet Tsuna can't keep tha' secret for three months! Hibari would know righ' away if somethin' was off!"
"Dude, you're so on!" Hayato yelled, raising a hand to point a finger at Takeshi. "Loser has to wear a skimpy neko costume to school!"
Tsuna chuckled at his friends' antics and he wondered if they were even aware that they were betting against each other instead of Tsuna and Kyouya. "What do you think?" he asked his silent boyfriend.
Kyouya sat contemplating for a moment, before a smirked graced his lips. "You're on."
A/N: Weren't expecting that were you? XD I had that ending in mind from the start and though I rushed it through a little (I finished writing it the same night I posted it) I'm pretty satisfied with it.
To those who probably didn't get it… well, Takeshi and Hayato made a bet that Tsuna can become a stripper/dancer in a gay club without Kyouya knowing and can keep it a secret for at least three months. They were completely sloshed when they made that bet, and Kyouya was tipsy as well, so they didn't remember much of when that bet was made, but Tsuna remembered because he has awesome genes and doesn't get memory loss when he's drunk. Anyway, Tsuna became a dancer, kept the secret for much longer then anticipated, and "won" the bet. Kyouya was happy, Hayato was delighted at the news, and Takeshi had gone down in school history for having attended class while wearing a skimpy neko costume (Kyouya did bring a camera to school that day and took plenty of pictures).
Byakuran and Mukuro don't know about Tsuna (after all, Kyouya is a very private man, even to his friends) but it wasn't a coincidence that they brought Kyouya to club Arcobaleno. Tsuna did his research while looking for a club to work in. He learned that Lal Mirch was a co-owner of Arcobaleno and he knew that Byakuran knew her from school (they all go to the same university btw if it wasn't obvious) and he soon set the gears of his intricate (not really) plan moving. Hehe, Tsuna is such a little minx. XD
Backstory explanations ftw! O3O
Oh, this story also happens to be the 50th story I have posted on this site, so I'm really happy and proud of myself! Please leave a review for this special occasion! Please!
Emo away! *superhero exit*