Boy Trouble GT

Chapter 5

[MASON]

The morning sun poured into the kitchen, casting golden streaks across the walls and furniture. Mason stood on his stack of books by the counter, trying to wrestle the top off a jar of peanut butter. The lid wouldn't budge, no matter how much he gritted his teeth and pressed with all his strength. His fingers ached, but he refused to give up.

Behind him, a shadow loomed.

"You look like a rat trying to open a treasure chest," Kye's voice drawled from behind, dry and amused.

Mason whipped his head around to glare at the giant, who had wandered into the kitchen still half-asleep. His oversized hoodie hung off one shoulder, and his bleached hair stuck out at odd angles. He wasn't wearing socks, so his toes peeked out from under the hem of his sweatpants, which pooled around his ankles. Despite his disheveled state, Kye still managed to tower over Mason like a skyscraper.

"Well, excuse me for not being twenty feet tall," Mason shot back, jabbing the jar in Kye's direction. "Do you want breakfast or not? Help me out here!"

Kye's lips twitched into the faintest smirk. He ambled over, his long legs covering the distance in just a few steps. While Mason stood precariously on his stack of books, Kye bent down at the waist, resting his forearms on the counter so his face was level with Mason's. Even hunched over, he looked massive, his head as big as Mason's entire torso.

"You could've just asked," Kye said, reaching out to pluck the jar from Mason's hands like it weighed nothing. His fingers engulfed it entirely, the lid popping off with a casual twist of his wrist.

Mason rolled his eyes. "Show-off."

Kye chuckled softly, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. He handed the jar back, the faint trace of a smile still lingering on his face. Mason ignored the way his cheeks warmed, stepping off his makeshift stool to spread the peanut butter on a slice of bread.

"Don't think this makes you a hero," Mason muttered, focusing on his task. "I could've done it. Eventually."

"Sure," Kye replied, leaning back against the counter. His arms crossed over his chest, and his hoodie bunched up, revealing a sliver of his pale stomach. "It only would've taken you another hour or two."

"At least I try," Mason quipped, his voice laced with mock indignation. He glanced up at Kye, who was watching him with a bemused expression. "Unlike you, who spends most of his time sulking in his room."

Kye's smirk faltered, and for a moment, Mason regretted his words. But then Kye shrugged, brushing it off.

"Touché," Kye said softly. He reached for an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter, his fingers brushing against Mason's shoulder in the process. The casual touch sent a strange jolt through Mason, but he pushed the feeling aside, refusing to let it linger.

[KYE]

Kye watched Mason scurry around the kitchen, his movements quick and efficient despite his small size. It was almost comical, seeing the tiny human navigate a space designed for someone of Kye's stature. The counter reached Mason's chest, and he had to climb onto the books again just to put the peanut butter jar back in the cupboard.

It wasn't the first time Kye had noticed how different they were. He tried not to think about it too much—how Mason's head barely reached his knee, how his hands looked so delicate compared to Kye's clunky fingers. But sometimes, like now, it was impossible to ignore.

"Do you ever get tired of climbing everywhere?" Kye asked, his voice teasing but curious.

Mason turned to him, holding a butter knife in one hand and a slice of bread in the other. "Not really. It's good exercise. Plus, I've been doing it my whole life, so I'm used to it."

Kye tilted his head, watching as Mason set the bread down on a plate and hopped off the books. He moved with the ease of someone who had long since adapted to his environment, but Kye couldn't help feeling a pang of guilt. The apartment wasn't exactly human-friendly. Everything—from the furniture to the light switches—was built to accommodate Kye's size, not Mason's.

"You shouldn't have to, though," Kye said, his voice quieter now. "I could... I don't know, move the stuff you use most often to the lower shelves. Or something."

Mason blinked up at him, his green eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, he didn't say anything, just stared at Kye like he'd grown a second head.

"You'd do that?" Mason asked, his voice softer than Kye expected.

Kye shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah. I mean... it's not a big deal."

Mason smiled then, a genuine smile that made Kye's chest feel weirdly tight. "Thanks, Kye. That's... really thoughtful of you."

Kye looked away, feeling heat creep up his neck. "Whatever. Don't make it a thing."

[MASON]

Later, they sat together at the dining table, Kye's legs stretched out under the table while Mason perched on his usual stack of books. The size difference was especially noticeable now, with Kye's knees practically brushing the underside of the table while Mason's feet dangled a few inches above the floor.

"Do you ever feel weird living with me?" Mason asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Kye raised an eyebrow. "Weird how?"

"I don't know," Mason said, shrugging. "Like... we're so different. Doesn't it ever bother you?"

Kye stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he studied Mason.

"Why would it bother me?" Kye asked. "You're... you. I don't care how small you are."

Mason's cheeks flushed, and he looked down at his plate, fiddling with the edge of his bread. "Thanks, I guess."

Kye tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Besides, if I ever get tired of you, I could always just sit on you."

Mason's head snapped up, his mouth falling open in mock outrage. "You wouldn't dare!"

Kye's grin widened, and for the first time in what felt like weeks, Mason saw a genuine spark of life in his eyes. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make Mason's heart feel lighter.

For now, that was enough.