M u t e L o v e // KiriBaku

» The Doer of My Setbacks, Send Me Forward [Pt. I] «

        Each time he enters a room with a mirror, it’s out of pure habit to drop in front of it and swipe an oddly specific gaze over his body.

It’s a bit more secretive with others around, but the way his eyes seem to always drink in the state of his body has not gone by completely unnoticed. 

Their relationship has not been one to open too many doors– at least, not yet.
Wondering if Bakugo would drop certain mannerisms that covered up his own self whenever Kirishima was the only other person in the room with him is nothing short of wishful thinking.
He’s still secluded himself in many ways from many things, and today is no different.

It isn’t often that Bakugo’s room is chosen to be their hangout spot. It took a while to get used to the setting; brighter lights, a smaller bed, cleaner furniture and floors, different smells, more books… A polar opposite of his own layer. 

The posters are as if their positioning required a mathematical strategy, bringing out the organized aspect of the room. Two sets of shelves accent the far left wall piled with clean, size decrescent books and mangas. A round, black rug cushions the bed’s area and a smaller, rectangular rug of the same set completes his desk area. There’s a floor lamp next to his bed and a dresser on its opposing end, along with a few shelves that hang above where his pillows lay fluffed up and cold. Next to his door stands a tall and frameless wall mirror hung up just a few inches above the ground. 

His layer is sacred. That knowledge is by far one of the biggest things he’s aware of, when it comes to Bakugo. Though, seeing him act in his own room has become a muse of his own. Despite barely sparing a mere glance towards any part of his room, the neglected parts of his dorm stand spotless. Every careless throw of anything he uses or takes seems to be perfect and even studied, as it most usually lands where it should– and an effort is always instantly put into getting himself up to replace an item whenever he misses. 

Seeing him act in his own room has definitely become a muse of his own…
Especially when the familiarity of it all had finally gained light. His room is treated as he treats himself, aside from a few things. Those two worlds collide once a mirror stands before none other than their own biggest hater and biggest fan, all the same. 

Today, thoughts are a bit looser than usual between them-- perhaps, a night of accomplishments and easygoing laughter has stuck to their skin and translated onto their day. They garnish a light atmosphere with lingering gazes and an overall well-fed sense of a domestic day. Still, no matter how good Bakugo’s mood has been today, Kirishima stares far too much to let those frowns slide whenever his eyes focus on himself.

As he wanders into the room again, hands occupied with the phone charger that he had left in Kirishima’s room and two bottles of water, his steps shorten when his own body comes into view. His eyes flicker towards each feature that screams out first; his hair, uneven and overall unkept due to his surgery, and his body, which tells the same tale. A meager thought is given into breaking their silence, and Kirishima launches a gentle chuckle before his words.

“Don’t worry, you look manly.” 

Bakugo, with his eyes still glued to himself, scoffs and spits a response with a look of distaste. “You find crocs pretty.” He quips back.
“Never said they were pretty, they’re just practical and match with anything.” 

Now, his eyes are on the cause of his absolute disbelief; lying comfortably on his bed, smiling in a way that slowly gains conscience over his effect on Bakugou’s sanity. Laughter picks him apart and it dissolves that scowl momentarily. When his eyes fluctuate back to his own body, his mind struggles to stimulate laughter back up– and it dims Kirishima’s joy, as well.