Boy Trouble GT

Chapter 27

[MASON]

Mason had never been this warm in his life.

Kye was like a damn furnace, his body radiating heat in a way that made Mason all but melt against him. Even through the fabric of the hoodie, through Kye's layers, he could feel it—so much warmth, a steady pulse of body heat that seeped into Mason's frozen skin and made him want to never move again.

He wasn't even thinking when he climbed into Kye's lap—his body had acted on instinct, driven purely by the need to escape the bitter cold that had settled deep into his bones.

Now? Now he was cocooned in that warmth, wrapped up in it, tucked into Kye's hoodie like he belonged there.

And Kye?

He was stiff as a damn board.

Mason knew it was kind of a bold move, but honestly, what was Kye gonna do? Throw him across the room? Actually push him off? No way. Mason had tested those boundaries before, had inched closer little by little, and every time, Kye had let him stay.

Sure, there had been protests—grumbling, sighing, eye rolls—but at the end of the day, Mason was still here.

And that? That meant something.

Still, he hadn't expected Kye's body to react this much.

Kye's muscles were locked up, his whole frame tense beneath Mason. His hands had been hovering awkwardly at first, as if he was debating whether or not to actually shove Mason off. But now—now Mason felt them, right there, settled loosely against his back, not pulling him in, but not pushing him away either.

And that?

That was interesting.

Now he was cocooned in that warmth, wrapped up in it, tucked into Kye's hoodie like he belonged there.

Mason shifted, pressing closer, sighing happily against Kye's chest as he got even more comfortable. "This is so much better," he muttered, his breath warm against the fabric of Kye's shirt.

Kye twitched violently beneath him.

Mason smirked to himself, but he didn't push it too much. Instead, he just relaxed into the hold, letting his body mold against Kye's, the hoodie acting like a barrier between them—a flimsy one, but enough to keep things from feeling too intimate.

Kye's heartbeat was loud. Not racing—not yet—but Mason could hear it, steady and strong beneath his ear. He had never really noticed it before, not like this.

It was nice.
Mason let his fingers curl slightly into the fabric of Kye's hoodie, his cold hands finally starting to warm up, his entire body thawing in the presence of this walking space heater he called a roommate.

Kye shifted uncomfortably.

"Mason," Kye muttered, his voice tight. "You can't just crawl into my hoodie like this. It's—weird."

Mason hummed, tilting his head up slightly to meet Kye's sharp gray eyes. "But you let me," he pointed out, smirking.

Kye scowled. "That's not the point."

Mason's grin widened. "No, I think it is the point."

Kye let out a deep, suffering sigh.

But he didn't move Mason.

Didn't try to pry him off.

Didn't do anything at all, really, except exist beneath him, his body still tense but less so now, like he was slowly starting to accept this was happening.

And that?

That was enough to make Mason's chest feel a little too tight.
He didn't know why he was doing this. Didn't know why he was always inching closer to Kye, why he wanted to be in his space all the time. It wasn't just the cold—he knew that.

It had started before winter. Before this whole hoodie fiasco.

It had started with something smaller.

A glance. A nudge. A shift closer on the couch.

And now, now, Mason was practically inside Kye's damn clothes, acting like it was the most normal thing in the world.

He felt his pulse quicken slightly, but he ignored it.

For now, he let himself be selfish. Let himself take this moment, absorb the warmth, listen to the sound of Kye's heartbeat beneath him.

And Kye—grumpy, awkward, doesn't-know-what-to-do-with-himself Kye—was letting him.

Mason smirked against Kye's chest.

This was definitely something.

Mason should've left it alone. He should've just taken the win, stayed quiet, and enjoyed the warmth.

But he couldn't. Because suddenly, this—whatever this was—felt like more than just a dumb game.

So Mason shifted again, just slightly, just enough to test something, and said, quieter now, "Why aren't you?"

Kye stiffened. "What?"

Mason looked up at him then, his green eyes sharp, searching. "Why aren't you kicking me off?"

Kye's lips parted slightly, like he had an answer but couldn't quite get it out. His gray eyes flickered, shifting away for a second before coming back to Mason.

Mason felt his heartbeat pick up.

Something was there.

Something he hadn't seen before, hadn't noticed—or maybe something he had refused to notice.

Kye's face wasn't just annoyed.
It wasn't just irritated.
It was flustered.
Mason had flustered him.
And holy shit, that realization sent something dangerous through his chest. He swallowed.

There was something heavy in the air now, something Mason wasn't prepared for.

His teasing expression faltered for a split second, his fingers tightening slightly in Kye's hoodie.

And suddenly, Mason didn't know what he was doing anymore.

Didn't know why he was pushing this so much. Didn't know why he couldn't stop.

The warmth between them wasn't just physical anymore.

And Mason wasn't sure what to do about that.