In forbidden spirits

Chapter 1

"Refill, Young Master?"

Tsuna flinches at the sudden accented voice behind him, even as he recognises it immediately. Camilo waves an opened bottle in the direction of Tsuna's empty champagne flute with a huge grin on his face.

Tsuna smiles back at him, subtly pulling his glass away from the man's reaching hand.

"Sure, but open a new bottle for me?"

Camilo's grin doesn't lose even a fraction of its radiance.

"But Young Master, this is a new bottle! It's full, isn't it?"

"It is. It's also spiked."

Camilo gasps, covering his mouth in mock indignation. "I am an innocent man, Young Master! A professional! I would never do such a thing!"

"Uh-huh. In that case you won't mind opening a new bottle for my peace of mind, right?"

He pauses for a moment, then lets out a warm, bellowing laugh.

"Hey, Ricario! Toss me another Young Master's Speciality, will ya?!" he shouts across the hall.

Ricario, the bartender's assistant fumbles with something under the counter. Then a bottle is sent flying over people's heads. Camilo catches it without even watching and immediately opens the new bottle with a small elegant opener.

"Is this more to your taste, Young Master?"

"Absolutely." Tsuna finally lets his glass be filled with light golden liquid.

"Can't fool you, can I, Young Master?"

Tsuna shakes his head. "Why do you keep trying? You know I can tell if you mess with my drink."

"Because—"

Ricario shouts something in Italian, too fast for Tsuna to follow.

"Ah, duty calls." He smiles again, a bit softer, less mischievous now. "Young Master, you are amongst friends and family tonight. You can let loose and have fun, too. Perhaps the Old Lion will calm down then, too."

He leaves Tsuna alone with a last wave over his shoulder.

Tsuna sighs, leaning against the nearest wall and takes a sip of lemonade.

He's been trying to tell people that he really doesn't like alcohol. Didn't like it when he was five and Iemitsu gave him a try, and didn't like it when Xanxus forced him to share a toast after the Arcobaleno battles as a sign of reluctant acceptance of him as Vongola Decimo.

Now, two years later as the official heir of Vongola, he's standing near the wall of Vongola's ballroom in Venice, watching people in masks and gowns and tuxedos devour both snacks and alcohol at nearly the same speed. There's an extra private bar for Xanxus and a collection of imported Japanese rice wine for Iemitsu. Camilo is putting up a show in the corner, mixing shots and cocktails in all the colours of the rainbow and with names that Tsuna doesn't want to repeat. His assistant is being kept busy with decorating the drinks and refilling the fridges and shelves as needed.

There's live music, and while the band started off with classical ballroom music, the party has gone on long enough that they're now taking in requests for generic pop, giving the songs their own twist to make the overplayed tunes sound fresher.

It's... not really bad. People are having fun, they dance and socialise, alcohol smoothing up their interactions. And Tsuna can handle drunk people. They mostly only talk more and dance almost as clumsily as Tsuna himself would.