Title:Novels and Mountains
Pairing: TezukaFuji
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff
Warning: shounen ai
Disclaimer: I do not profit from the Prince of Tennis. But I think Tezuka and Fuji gain a lot from each other. And the books mentioned here aren't mine either.

A/N:This is a belated birthday gift for lafuego. Her prompt was a bored (but-trying-not-to-show-it-because-bored-is-so-not-Tezuka) Tezuka. nods

Love each other dearly always. There is scarcely anything else in the world but that: to love one another. – Les Misérables, Victor Hugo

Fuji inserted the key through its hole and turned the doorknob. He kicked off his shoes, picked them up and placed them on the rack. Wriggling his toes and massaging his shoulders, he slid his socked feet into a pair of pale blue fluffy slippers.

His slippers made plack plack plack noises as the soles slapped against the wooden steps. Another pair of slippers made another set of more cautious, less scandalizing thud thud thuds. Fuji smiled slightly. He didn't have to turn to know that Tezuka was right behind him, following him to his room.

"What book do you want?" asked Fuji. He slumped down to bed and caused the bedsprings to squeak. He gazed up at Tezuka while he took off his coat and flung it on the bed.

Tezuka grabbed Fuji's coat and hanged it along with his own. "What do you suggest?"

"The Little Prince, of course," said Fuji with a pleasant smile.

Tezuka shook his head. "I already used it for a previous project."

"What can I do?" asked Fuji. He flashed an amused grin. "You aren't keen on classic literature…"

"That's why I'm asking you," responded Tezuka, direct and serious.

Fuji leaned back and folded his legs beneath him. He had to give this some thought. Of course he knew that Tezuka was an intelligent person and Tezuka would write an excellent paper whatever novel Tezuka was handed with. Tezuka, however, had difficulty in agreeing with fictional characters on a more personal or, perhaps, moral basis.

"Why does he have to steal?" Tezuka asked quietly. He raised the book at hand and tapped the cover.

"Because he needs to support himself," Fuji said patiently. "Robin Hood is trying to help people. He does that by stealing."

"There are other ways to survive," said Tezuka in a perfunctory manner.

"Yes, there are, but there are circumstances in his environment that inhibit – "

"But stealing is wrong," Tezuka said firmly. He was so resolute, speaking too much like a former police officer's grandson.

Fuji hid a chuckle and shrugged. "Well, not everyone is as sensible or as upright as you are. Have you never heard of 'The end justifies the means'?"

Unconsciously biting his lower lip, Fuji tilted his head and scanned his bookshelf with narrowed eyes. He hoped that there was at least one book in his collection that could bend Tezuka. His collection was thankfully large enough that under the 'H' authors, he found the book. It had the touch of history that would definitely pique Tezuka's interest. It had the hint of humanity that suited Fuji's purpose.

"Tezuka, why don't you take that one?" He pointed at the green-covered book.

Tezuka took the book and read off the title. "Les Misérables."

"You've heard of it?" inquired Fuji.

"Ahh," answered Tezuka, reading the novel's synopsis. "Thanks."

He was starting for his coat when Fuji called.

"It's snowing," Fuji said, glancing at his window. A white mound was growing on the pane. "Hard." He smiled at Tezuka and said, "You can stay for a while and you can begin reading, too."

Tezuka seemed in doubt for a second. But he nodded and sat down on Fuji's swiveling chair, right before the study desk. Fuji took fumbled his bag for his camera and began checking the pictures he'd like to print this weekend.

"You're alone this weekend?"

Fuji inclined his head. Tezuka had his thumb inserted between the pages of the book. "Only for tonight," he said simply. "Neesan is in graveyard shift and Okaasan visited some relatives. Yuuta won't be back till next week."

"Ahh," Tezuka said and turned back to the novel.

Fuji nodded and got back to reviewing the photos. He raised his head, however, when he heard a series of click ciack click clack. He watched, smiling faintly, as Tezuka clicked and unclicked Fuji's ballpoint pen.

In a few minutes, silence blanketed the room. Tezuka continued reading. Fuji put away his camera and stood to get a novel for himself. An entertained frown marred Fuji's face when Tezuka twirled and dropped his pen. Tezuka picked up the pen again, twirled it and dropped it again.

"Tezuka," said Fuji, attempting and succeeding in concealing a chuckle, "you might be more comfortable in the rocking chair."

Tezuka raised his head and blinked. He considered the suggestion for a moment and headed for the old, wooden chair near the foot of Fuji's bed.

Fuji sat on the chair that Tezuka just left and searched for a book that would suit his mood. Something light, he thought, perhaps The Little Lord Fauntleroy? Yes, he decided.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

Smiling brightly, Fuji saw Tezuka swinging the chair to and fro, to and fro, as the latter tried to read.

Without a word, Fuji got to his feet and left the room. He came back several minutes later. He was balancing a tray and a disc in his hands. He placed one cup in the arm of the rocking chair and Tezuka instantly lifted his head from his book. He eyed Fuji questioningly.

"Hot chocolate," said Fuji, indicating his own cup of the creamy and steamy beverage. "Oh, and, Tezuka, I hope you wouldn't mind if I watch something." He said, waving the disc.

"This is your room," replied Tezuka curtly. He brought his eyes back to his novel and continued to absently swing the chair.

Fuji popped the disc into the player. The documentary began in dubbed Japanese and Fuji conveniently settled himself on the floor, in a way that Tezuka's knees would brush against his back every time the chair swayed. Soon, Fuji felt the rocking chair stop and Tezuka's legs steadied behind him.

"What are you watching?" asked Tezuka.

"Hmm…" said Fuji thoughtfully. "I think it's something called 'Top Ten Summits of the World'."

Fuji saw Tezuka's raised brows. Then, he spotted Victor Hugo's novel on Tezuka's lap, abandoned. Fuji shifted in his position and adjusted his head so that it rested against Tezuka's knees. He scanned around to see Tezuka's face and smiled to himself.

-End-

A/N:I haven't written this kind of fluff in a long time. What? Oh. –runs away and hides- I'd really try to finish both Dictionary and OYIF before this year ends. I swear! Oh. And the Christmas cacti fest is now open! It's an exclusively TezukaFuji anonymous fic and art exchange community at LiveJournal. I already received my fic gift and I put up a link at my ffnet profile.