M u t e L o v e // KiriBaku

• A Trip Through Fashion •

"Why do you still have that shirt?"

The shirt continues to make Kirishima's hand its cramped home as the one who holds it shoots a look of muted offense. "What's that mean!" He cries out with a dumbfounded smile. "It's a cool shirt!"
"Do you even listen to that band? I saw you wearing it once," he argues. "And bright fucking orange doesn't look good on you."

"Ohh come on, it doesn't look that bad,"

With loose, bubbly laughter flowing from Bakugo, the shirt is balled up and chucked towards his head. The flying makeshift weapon is caught with ease, and a played-up sense of danger is allowed to settle just as their gazes meet. With Kirishima's laughter breaching the silence, they return to rummaging through a pile of clothes.

Kirishima had taken Bakugo out to a cafe a bit further from their typical three-minute walk away brunch in place. Under his word, he claimed that their day started with a lazy, carefree start; with old T-Shirts and pajama sweats, the two took a cab and wandered into the wooden cabin-themed cafe hand in hand, ordering something out of their knowledge and comfort zone for them to try. They still smell like the outside and still feel the embrace of the warmer temperature, which only makes changing into something nicer speak louder to them.

It isn't often that he gets the chance to rummage through his things. With each article of clothing comes a memory-driven smile. He can picture Bakugo wearing every single one perfectly and he suddenly feels powerful knowing that now, upon seeing him wearing these again, he can shamelessly compliment him the way that he had always wanted to.

"Got an outfit yet?" Inquires the redhead, earning a gruff "think so" from the one who tosses yet another two shirts over his shoulder. He catches the one that fell further from the pile that he aimed for and opened the shirt with delicacy, giving an eager hum towards it. "Oooh, this one's nice! You should wear this one!"

He turns back at last, seeming truly keen towards the claim. "My black shorts are for wash, though."

"But you look good in white shorts too,"
"White on grey looks weird, dumbass,"
"Not on you, it doesn't! I think you look good in grey and white,"

He approaches with eyes gleaming with interest, laid solely on the shirt that Kirishima holds out for him to grab. A soft hum travels. "Never mind, white and grey doesn't look weird,"
He tries on the outfit without much care towards the outcome of it, claiming to fix it up with a scarf or some bracelets in case it flops. His white cargo shorts are being buttoned up as Kirishima murmurs out his current lack of outfit ideas situation. Though, just before Bakugo could open his mouth, he continues on to exclaim: "oh my god, can you dress your boyfriend up!?"

His body freezes up, though, his eyes swim towards Kirishima. As giddiness flows from his curled-up posture– his hands between his legs clutching the bed and his feet dangling from the side of his bed, his shoulders high up with ecstasy– he huffs out a grunt and points his chin up high. "Huh, thought you'd never ask." He begins with a flat tone. Though, with an oncoming grin, he continues with: "Your wardrobe makes me wanna cry internally".

He throws aside the start of a reaction clearly wanted by Bakugo and gives a cheer, claiming that finally, his boyfriend can make him look handsome. His lips fall open as a thought comes to mind, yet, he turns and drifts by the moment hoping that Kirishima had not noticed.

"Heeyyy,"

He ignores the frisky tone and asks "you wanna wear shorts or pants?". Kirishima chuckles at the poor attempt of distracting him and he leans back on the bed, eyeing the blond up and down. "What were you gonna say?"

"Huh?"
"Hm?"

He shrugs and continues to rummage aimlessly through his wardrobe, pushing back and forth the same four hangers that he has been messing with ever since he has turned his back to him. "What was that?"