[ The hand never actually makes it back to his side. Instead, his wrist lands in Akira's hand, carefully encircled by the cool leather of his glove. Minato's gaze lifts to meet Akira's, eyes wide with bewilderment.
"Yes"? Was that true?
His palm is pressed against Akira's chest, and even through the fabric of his own glove, he can feel the intense drumbeat of the other wild card's heart.
It's what his own must feel like, now that Minato's certain he hadn't misheard Akira's response. ]
...
[ Even at a time like this, even when Akira's expressed a firm response, he's still careful about returning the question back to Minato. That thread of desire caught by the wind is plucked from the air by Akira's hand, where it's deposited -- returned -- to Minato's own palm. It's a delicate thing, and yet it weighs heavy in the cradle of his own hand.
"Don't you?"
The hand laying flat against Akira's chest curls in on itself, fingers grasping at the front of Akira's shirt. That's right -- he can trust that this isn't the sort of mistake Akira would make. A person so certain and firm about their heart wouldn't make that type of error. ]
...I think --
[ There's no need for doubt, is there? ]
...no. You're right.
[ He leans forward, the hand grasping at Akira's shirt tugging the other forward to meet him partway, all for the sake of capturing those coffee-stained lips. ]
no subject
"Yes"? Was that true?
His palm is pressed against Akira's chest, and even through the fabric of his own glove, he can feel the intense drumbeat of the other wild card's heart.
It's what his own must feel like, now that Minato's certain he hadn't misheard Akira's response. ]
...
[ Even at a time like this, even when Akira's expressed a firm response, he's still careful about returning the question back to Minato. That thread of desire caught by the wind is plucked from the air by Akira's hand, where it's deposited -- returned -- to Minato's own palm. It's a delicate thing, and yet it weighs heavy in the cradle of his own hand.
"Don't you?"
The hand laying flat against Akira's chest curls in on itself, fingers grasping at the front of Akira's shirt. That's right -- he can trust that this isn't the sort of mistake Akira would make. A person so certain and firm about their heart wouldn't make that type of error. ]
...I think --
[ There's no need for doubt, is there? ]
...no. You're right.
[ He leans forward, the hand grasping at Akira's shirt tugging the other forward to meet him partway, all for the sake of capturing those coffee-stained lips. ]