[ That comes as no surprise. Akira's gloves reach all the way up to his elbows; that can't be very comfortable at all. Even Minato's own wrist-height cloth gloves are starting to feel unbearable.
For his own sake, Minato pretends he doesn't see the playful finger waggle or the way Akira's grin widens. He'll focus on the leather glove instead, pinching the fabric Akira's wrist to give it a gentle tug. The glove slides down Akira's arm without any resistance at all, dragged all the way down until he's finally freed the hand of that stuffy glove.
It gets carelessly dropped off to the side, joining the accumulating pile of clothing.
Minato glances down at Akira's other hand tucked beneath his garter. Well... Akira can feel that one, Minato supposes, if Akira's so reluctant to leave the space at his thigh for even a few seconds. ]
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For his own sake, Minato pretends he doesn't see the playful finger waggle or the way Akira's grin widens. He'll focus on the leather glove instead, pinching the fabric Akira's wrist to give it a gentle tug. The glove slides down Akira's arm without any resistance at all, dragged all the way down until he's finally freed the hand of that stuffy glove.
It gets carelessly dropped off to the side, joining the accumulating pile of clothing.
Minato glances down at Akira's other hand tucked beneath his garter. Well... Akira can feel that one, Minato supposes, if Akira's so reluctant to leave the space at his thigh for even a few seconds. ]