Boy Trouble GT

Chapter 8

[KYE]

Kye sat cross-legged on the patchy grass near the track field, a flimsy folding chair discarded beside him. He'd insisted on sitting on the ground—something about not wanting to feel like a spectator. Now, with the sun glaring down and the grass itching his legs, he was starting to regret that decision.

His pale skin, which hadn't seen proper sunlight in who-knows-how-long, practically reflected the sunlight like a beacon. His oversized bucket hat flopped down slightly over his face, shading his eyes but doing little to shield his neck or shoulders from the heat. He'd rolled up the sleeves of his too-big hoodie, exposing long, skinny arms that gleamed in the sunlight like alabaster. He'd even been guilted into wearing shorts by Mason, though his legs—equally as pale as his arms—now glared up at him like a reminder of just how little he ventured outside.

Fanning his face lazily with his hand, Kye groaned under his breath. "This heat is going to kill me," he muttered, squinting out at the track where Mason was preparing to run. The tiny human was stretching near the starting line, his dark curls catching the sunlight as he bent and moved with ease. Even from this distance, Kye could see the determination in his green eyes, the way his muscles flexed with purpose.

Kye let out a quiet sigh, unsure if it was from the heat or something else entirely.

The crowd around the track buzzed with energy—students, coaches, and spectators filling the bleachers and grassy edges. Some giants were scattered around, standing awkwardly at the back or perched on giant-sized benches, but Kye kept to himself on the ground. He hadn't been sure why he'd let Mason drag him out here in the first place, but now, watching his roommate stride confidently toward the starting line, he found himself... curious.

Mason looked so small out there, surrounded by his teammates and competitors, but he carried himself like he owned the place. Kye admired that about him—how Mason could just be himself, unapologetically, even in a world that wasn't exactly built for him.

"Come on, Mase," Kye muttered under his breath, shifting his weight to lean back on his hands. "Show them what you've got."

The announcer's voice crackled over the loudspeaker, signaling the start of the race. Mason crouched into position, his tiny frame coiled like a spring, and Kye felt his heart pick up in anticipation. The gun went off with a sharp crack, and Mason took off like a blur.

[MASON]

The air rushed past Mason's face as he tore down the track, his legs pumping furiously. He'd been training for this moment for weeks, pouring every ounce of his energy into improving his time. But now, as his feet pounded against the pavement, his mind was strangely calm.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Kye sitting on the grass. The sight of the giant—gangly, pale, and out of place—made him chuckle inwardly. Kye looked like he might evaporate under the heat, his bucket hat barely clinging to his head as he fanned himself dramatically. And yet, he was here. He'd actually shown up.

That thought fueled Mason, driving him to push harder. He leaned into the turn, his focus narrowing as he closed the gap between himself and the runner ahead. The finish line loomed closer, the roar of the crowd dimming in his ears as adrenaline took over.

With one final burst of speed, Mason surged forward, crossing the finish line just a fraction of a second ahead of his competitor. The crowd erupted into cheers, but Mason barely heard them. His chest heaved as he slowed to a jog, his legs burning with exertion, and a wide grin spread across his face.

He turned toward the grassy area where Kye was sitting and saw the giant clapping slowly, his expression neutral but his pale face faintly red from the heat—or maybe something else.

[KYE]

Kye watched as Mason jogged toward him, his face flushed with exertion and victory. The human looked so small compared to the crowd of athletes milling around, but his presence was magnetic. He practically glowed with pride, his green eyes sparkling as he closed the distance between them.

"Not bad," Kye said as Mason approached, his tone casual but his lips quirking into a faint smile. "Didn't trip this time."

Mason rolled his eyes, grabbing a towel from his gym bag and draping it over his shoulders. "I'd like to see you try running in this heat without collapsing like a sack of potatoes."

"Pass," Kye replied, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm already dying just sitting here."

"You do look like a ghost," Mason teased, gesturing to Kye's glowing skin. "You're gonna fry out here if you're not careful."

Kye smirked, tugging the brim of his bucket hat lower over his face. "Thanks for the concern, Mom."

Mason laughed, tossing a bottle of water up to Kye, who caught it easily with one hand. For a moment, they just stood there—giant and human, opposites in so many ways but somehow perfectly in sync.

"Thanks for coming," Mason said after a pause, his voice quieter now. "I know it's not really your thing."

Kye shrugged, unscrewing the cap of the water bottle. "It's whatever. You needed a fan club, right?"

Mason smiled, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Yeah, something like that."

As the sun continued to beat down, Kye leaned back on the grass, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Mason sat beside him, their sizes comically mismatched but comfortable nonetheless. For the first time in a long time, Kye felt... okay. Maybe even a little proud.

And as Mason launched into a play-by-play of the race, gesturing excitedly with his hands, Kye found himself smiling—not just at Mason's enthusiasm but at the strange, unexpected warmth blooming in his chest.