Tokyo Lights

Disclaimer: Another side-effect of PoT is an irrational sense of euphoria.
Author's Notes: Kuma means bear, because Tezuka is just a little cuddle bear. Hehe. Tokyo Lights is being translated into Chinese by Y. How exciting. And I apologize for the hiatus, blame it on the heat.
Special Thanks: To Reddwarfer, who's so much better than a beta. Feel free to point out anything you think is out of wack. Cheers.

Apartment 53A

Eyes may reputedly be the window to a person's soul, but Tezuka knows better.

For Fuji, the window to his soul lay in his material purchases, which are usually procured through television orders.

The average is usually one package a week.

Sometimes two, when there's a holiday special.

But when more than three packages arrive in the span of two weeks, Tezuka knows that Fuji's been having some pretty bad days.

So he makes an extra effort to be helpful around the apartment, and takes special care to be attentive to the tensai's needs.

Boxes will continue to arrive for another week or so, before they start to taper off.

Which is none too soon, in Tezuka's opinion, because he often wonders, at times like these, if a person can get carpel tunnel from signing off on so many packages.

It's worse when only one box arrives.

Because then Tezuka knows he has to brace himself for those absurdly expensive, inordinately large, packages that take over three weeks to process and ship.

The last time that happened, he ended up with tartan dining mats, which, Fuji claims, are perfect matches to the rocking chair Yumiko sent.

And Tezuka hates tartan.

But he's not about to start something with Fuji.

Look where it got him last time.

Apartment 54A

Tezuka has always known that Fuji plays by his own set of rules.

Which was another reason why he's loathe to play billiards with the tensai.

Tezuka watches as Fuji's fingers travel slowly up and down the length of the stick, his face turned ever so slightly, so that his lips barely brush the polished surface.

The dark haired boy scowls at this obvious ploy, and resolves to concentrate on the game at hand. The score is 38-42 in Fuji's favor, and Tezuka hopes to close the gap with this shot.

He angles his shot towards the left corner, and aims.

Fuji chooses that moment to moan.

Flustered, Tezuka overshoots, his cue ball ricocheting against the side of the table, missing the ball positioned in the corner pocket completely.

Fuji smiled serenely as it rolls to a stop. "I believe that's two points to me."

Some may claim that Fuji is a tensai, but Tezuka knows him for what he truly is: a cheat.

Apartment 55A

"Tezuka."

"Hn?"

"Stand still for a moment."

The dark haired boy paused as Fuji approached him with a curious look on his face.

"Close your eyes," the younger boy whispered, as he cupped the side of Tezuka's face, with his right hand.

Tezuka froze in anticipation as Fuji's thumb gently brushed across his cheek. He could feel the tensai's warm breath, intermingling with his own. And Fuji's soft lips, which were tantalizingly close to his own.

But before Tezuka could decide to close the distance between them, the other boy had already pulled away.

"You can open your eyes now."

In Fuji hand, there was a single eyelash resting on the pad of his thumb.

He chuckled at the bemused expression on Tezuka's face.

"Make a wish."

Apartment 56A

When he was younger, Fuji's favorite book was Le Petit Prince.

He hadn't understood it at first, in the original French.

Then again, he hadn't understood the Odyssey in the original Greek.

But such things never deterred the tensai.

Because within these pages, Fuji lost himself within the fantastic adventures of ordinary men-- the type who forged their own destinies, and changed the fates of others.

They were idealists, chivalrous, valiant, and daring to the point of recklessness.

Heroes in every sense of the word, their tireless efforts, from slaying dragons to foiling evil magicians, never ceased to astound.

It wouldn't be inaccurate to say that it was then when Fuji's secret infatuation with men in tights began.

But his obsession would have no outlet, until years later when he first set eyes on Tezuka Kunimitsu.

There was something in his stance, standing bold and proud on the tennis court, with his racket extended in a challenge, that was highly reminiscent of the champions Fuji had so long read about.

Fuji knew then, in breathless wonderment, that their love would be the stuff epics were made of.