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"Stop touching my face, Jean."
Marco clasped his own hand across his face defensively, but Jean prodded a finger through anyway. He poked at Marco's forehead and cheeks until it tickled, and Marco sighed in defeat.
"Why do you wanna touch me right now, anyway? I'm sweaty and gross."
They were lying on their beds, waiting for their turn to shower after a long, hot day spent mostly in the sun. Marco could feel a film of sweat on his skin, and he didn't really love the idea of Jean being able to feel it too. Jean, for his part, didn't seem bothered.
He laughed and flipped a finger back and forth across Marco's nose. "I don't care - I'm pretty nasty right now too. But the sun today made your freckles darker. I'm looking at them."
Marco groaned and tried to roll away. "Can we not talk about the freckles for one day?" Jean tugged his arm until they were facing each other again. He must've noticed the slight redness of Marco's cheeks; he ran his thumb over the blushing skin in short strokes.
"I wish you didn't hate 'em so much" he said softly, tracing patterns on Marco's face. "You know, my grandma used to call freckles 'skin stars'."
"So?"
"So think about that - it's like you've got the whole galaxy, right here." He pressed a finger lightly against Marco's cheek. "It's like, the whole universe and all its explosions and crazy millions of years of planets and stars and everything all led to you existing right now, with these awesome little spots on your skin. You're an entire night sky, even in the middle of the day." He swiped a fingertip across Marco's bottom lip and smiled. "Think about that, and then try to tell me your freckles aren't amazing."
Marco rolled his eyes, but he couldn't camouflage the warmth he felt at Jean's words. "You're a sweet guy, Jean" he said quietly, looping a few fingers into the longer hair on top of Jean's head.
"Don't tell the others" Jean grinned. Marco shook his head.
"Wouldn't dream of tarnishing your image. You know, though - well, you'll probably tell me I'm an idiot for this..."
"Probably" Jean nodded. "But tell me anyway."
Marco rolled onto his side to face Jean, a reserved look on his face. Jean scooted closer, until their noses nearly touched.
"I've always kind of believed there was some kind of... God. Someone that created everything, you know. Like the stars and planets and everything didn't just happen. Maybe that's just me, though."
Jean laughed under his breath. "Yeah, that's pretty much just you." When Marco didn't return his grin, he dropped his voice to a low whisper, taking Marco's hands in his. "You know what, though?"
"What?" Marco asked cautiously. Jean smiled and looked down at the hands in his.
"If you're right, and someone made all of us by hand..." - he held Marco's hands up between them, just under their chins - "... then that means that they put every single one of your freckles there on purpose, right where they belong. That's even cooler, really. Think about it." He kissed Marco's knuckles, one by one, until Marco pulled his hands away and laughed.
"I think you'd find any excuse to talk about my stupid skin" he grumbled playfully, looking over his shoulder briefly to be sure they weren't being watched. When he turned back to face Jean he was met by a warm pair of lips pressed messily against his, and a peal of soft laughter when he finally pulled away a moment later.
"I think you're right."