Pre-note: I wanted to explore a bit more fluff and domesticity with Natsume and Matoba. I feel like they could be uncanny friends if their situations weren't as hostile, or if Matoba could learn from Natsume's gentleness.

"What have you been reading?"

"Kokoro."

Matoba hums and settles himself behind Natsume. His arms slip to the front of the blond's waist, kneading and readjusting the blanket in his lap. Often the exorcist doesn't bother him when he is focused (as enforced by Nanase), but something piqued his interest enough to disrupt the peaceful lull.

A digit rubs the corner of Natsume's jaw. The boy continues reading, too absorbed to notice Matoba's curious fingers. They drag up the jawline, eye peeking along the edge to inspect anything more (nothing) before trailing back down.

The exorcist's deep voice, "You have a mark here," jolts the blond from his reading.

"What?" Natsume turns his head around, heart hammering from the sudden statement. Confused, he furrows his eyebrows.

"A beauty mark," the exorcist specifies, pressing once more to the dark spot and retreating before Natsume's hand reaches up to it.

Natsume presses his lips together, a little embarrassed that Matoba was inspecting him during his single-minded attention. "Can you not do that?"

"Sorry."

Turning back to the book, Natsume settles back to lean against Matoba (as an unspoken punishment they both know isn't quite one). Matoba looks over the younger's shoulder, reading along with him until the turn of a page, the flick of a scar on a wrist catches his eye. He studies the mark as Natsume obliviously reads on.

Matoba presses closer, resting his chin on the teen's shoulder so he could finger the raised scar on the side of Natsume's left wrist.

"Matoba…" Natsume sighs – half warning, half exasperated.

He stops the inspection per the aggravation in Natsume's voice, and instead gently holds his wrist. Not caring to argue much more, Natsume resumes. 'But sometimes I would notice a shadow cross his face. True, like the shadow of a bird outside the window, it would quickly disappear.' About to turn the next page, Natsume looks to the hand holding his wrist and finds a scar running lengthwise on Matoba's index finger.

"You have one too," the teen comments almost absently (but he ponders about the scar, wondering if it was from childhood tumbles or wielding arrows) before his right hand turns the page.

"I do?" the black haired man questions, squinting his eyes to try to peer at the hand he laid upon Natsume's. "Where?"

Natsume sighs and keeps his eyes (and heated face) on the page when he wordlessly brushes digits over the finger.

"Oh."

Turning around, Natsume's cheek is tickled by the other's longer hair. He takes a moment to look at him and search his face for something that even he is unsure of. Maybe it is just to show his gratitude to Matoba. Marks and scars are often seen as tarnished and imperfect, whereas this person meets it with indifferent acknowledgement, and even appreciation. Natsume doesn't feel himself lean closer.

Matoba grins before saying, "You have one here, too," and presses his lips to the other's.

There's no mark or scar there.

"That's a lie," Natsume softly scolds afterward, breath a little shallow.

From that small mark he noticed earlier, Natsume can't subdue his curiosity. It swirls around in his head as he wants to know more about their origins, and ultimately the one bearing them. "Do you have any more?"

Matoba blinks at him in reply.

"Scars, or marks," Natsume murmurs slowly, head lowered as he places the book on the floor before twisting himself around. He's too embarrassed to ask about their causes; hopefully Matoba will offer explanations.

Kokoro is abandoned for the meantime.

Notes: Prompt is counting each other's freckles, beauty marks, etc. Theme incorporated is "wabi" - beauty in imperfection. Kokoro line is credited to Ibiblio.