Words- 261

Ship- Akira Kurusu/Goro Akechi(Kinda)

Letter- G is Gloves

Akira slowly slipped the leather glove on, luckily for him he had the same size of hands as Akechi, the glove fit perfectly. He lowered the gloved hand to circle his cock, his breath hitched a bit at the feeling of leather against his sensitive skin. He starts stroking, he was breathing heavy, as shame wafted off him in waves...What was wrong with him? Using his dead friend's glove to do this? Akechi had given him this glove for a proclamation of battle, and now Akira is using it for this? Akechi must be rolling in his grave. His grave. He was dead. Tears slipped out of his Akira's eyes as he thought of all the things he didn't get to do or say to the detective.

He continued to stroke with the leather-covered hand. He never got to tell the boy he loved him, he never got to take the detective on a date, he never got to...what's wrong with him? He was just making himself cry harder, thinking about those things didn't make him feel better. Despite currently balling his eyes out he continued to stroke himself, his tears fell onto the leather glove. He started to stroke harder, closing his tear-filled eyes, imagining it was Akechi's hand stroking up and down his shaft. Imagining that he was alive and happy in front of him. He quickly covered his mouth as he released a loud moan, and came into the leather glove.

He opened eyes, confronted with the reality that the detective was gone.