Boy Trouble GT

Chapter 14

[FEW DAYS LATER]

The tension from the party had faded, at least on the surface, but something still lingered between Kye and Mason. The days that followed were quieter than usual. Kye had been retreating into his room more often, while Mason, ever energetic and sharp, seemed to be giving him space. Even so, their routines intertwined as always, a rhythm to their lives that neither of them could entirely escape.

It was late afternoon when Mason finally decided enough was enough. He stood in the kitchen, dwarfed by the countertops and cabinets designed for giants. The contrast was stark: Mason's head barely came up to the handles of the drawers, and he had to climb a small stepstool to reach anything higher than the bottom shelf. It was something Kye always teased him about—how Mason looked like a toddler in a play kitchen—but today, Mason wasn't in the mood for jokes.

Instead, he hopped down from the stepstool with a carton of juice in his hands and called out, "Kye! I know you're in there. You've been in your room all day, and I'm officially done letting you sulk."

There was no response from Kye's room, though Mason could hear the faint creak of the bed as Kye shifted his weight.

Mason sighed, setting the juice down on the oversized counter and marching toward Kye's door. Standing in front of it, he knocked—well, more like pounded, given his size. His small fist made a faint thud against the giant door. "Kye! Open up! Don't make me climb the furniture again to open it myself."

Inside, Kye groaned, his voice muffled. "I'm not sulking. I'm just tired."

"Uh-huh," Mason said, rolling his eyes. "Well, guess what? You're gonna be even more tired because I'm dragging you out of this room if I have to."

There was a long pause, then the sound of Kye's heavy footsteps approaching the door. When it opened, Mason was immediately reminded of just how big Kye was. The giant stood in the doorway, his tall, lanky frame filling the space. His pale skin practically glowed in the dim light, and his bleached hair was messy, falling into his tired gray eyes. He was wearing one of his usual oversized hoodies, the hem brushing the tops of his thighs, and a pair of baggy sweatpants that made his long legs look even longer.

Mason had to tilt his head back just to look up at him, his green eyes narrowing slightly. "You look like a ghost," Mason said bluntly. "When's the last time you ate?"

Kye shrugged, one of his broad shoulders lifting lazily. "I don't know. Yesterday?"

Mason groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're impossible. Come on," he said, stepping back and gesturing for Kye to follow. "We're making dinner. And you're helping."

Kye hesitated, his long fingers gripping the edge of the doorframe. "Mase..."

"Nope," Mason cut him off, his tone firm. "I don't care if you're tired. You're not hiding in here all day."

Reluctantly, Kye ducked through the doorway, his tall frame unfolding like a gangly crane as he stepped into the main room. His head brushed close to the ceiling, and his long arms hung loosely at his sides. He looked down at Mason, who barely came up to his knees, and sighed. "Fine. But don't make me do anything complicated."

[IN THE KITCHEN]

Mason stood on his trusty stepstool at the counter, reaching for ingredients while Kye loomed behind him, his gangly form towering over the small space. It was almost comical—Mason, small and compact, moving around with precise efficiency, while Kye hunched awkwardly, trying not to bump into anything.

"Here," Mason said, handing Kye a giant-sized bowl. "You're in charge of mixing. Don't spill anything, or I swear I'll make you clean it up."

Kye took the bowl, his large hands easily encompassing the entire thing. "Mix what?"

Mason smirked, holding up a measuring cup filled with flour. "This. And this." He added sugar and a pinch of salt to the list. "Just stir it together."

Kye did as he was told, his long fingers gripping the spoon as he carefully mixed the ingredients. The spoon looked absurdly small in his hand, like a child's toy, and Mason couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

"What's so funny?" Kye asked, glancing down at Mason.

"You," Mason replied, grinning up at him. "You look like a giant trying to play house."

Kye snorted, his lips twitching into a faint smile. "You mean like you do every time you climb the stepstool to reach the cabinets?"

Mason gasped in mock offense, placing a hand over his chest. "How dare you? My stepstool is a symbol of perseverance and ingenuity."

Kye rolled his eyes but didn't argue. Instead, he focused on mixing, his movements slow and careful. Mason noticed how his long limbs and complete aura seemed out of place in the kitchen, his elbows constantly brushing against the counters and cabinets as he tried to maneuver. Like he'd never cooked a day in his life, Mason was sure he'd never really seen Kye cook a meal

When they finally sat down to eat—Mason in his usual human-sized chair, Kye in one of the massive giant-sized chairs that dwarfed even him—it felt oddly normal. Mason chatted about his day, his green eyes flicking up occasionally to make sure Kye was actually eating. Kye listened quietly, his pale face softening as the conversation flowed.

For the first time in days, things felt... okay. Better than okay, even.

[LATER THAT NIGHT]

After dinner, they settled in the living room. Kye sprawled across the giant-sized couch, his long legs draped over the armrest, while Mason curled up in the corner, a blanket pulled over his lap. The TV played softly in the background, though neither of them was really paying attention.

Mason glanced at Kye, his green eyes thoughtful. "You know," he said after a while, "you're not as bad at this whole 'existing' thing as you think."

Kye snorted softly, his gray eyes flicking over to Mason. "High praise."

"I'm serious," Mason said, sitting up slightly. "You've been trying. I can see it. And that's more than most people can say."

Kye didn't respond right away, his gaze drifting back to the ceiling. But after a moment, he nodded, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks, Mase."

Mason grinned, leaning back into the cushions. "Anytime, big guy."