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[Akira gives a shaky exhale as Minato slowly pulls away his glove, faux leather sliding across skin to finally pool on the ground at their side. and the first thing Akira does with those newly freed fingers is--]

[. . . reach out to gently push aside Minato's bangs, giving him a clear view of the other wild card's rosy-cheeked features, blue framed with a rather fetching red]

Thanks.

[he mumbles, voice low and a little raspy]

. . . you look good when you're asking for something.

[wanting something. pushing past base instinct to reach out and take it. the hand at Minato's face stays there as Akira draws the other up-- somewhat reluctantly, mind you-- so Minato can dispose of that glove as well]