Boy Trouble GT

Chapter 37

[KYE]

Morning light drifted across the room in soft, muted stripes. Kye's body stirred before his mind caught up, muscles faintly aching as though he'd slept in the wrong position for too long. The blankets felt heavier than usual, and warmth curled against his chest in a way that sent a strange, sleepy confusion through him.

He stirred, half-lost in a dream that he couldn't remember, his brain lagged behind his senses, groggy and thick as he tried to piece together why everything felt different. The familiar weight of his hoodie clung to his torso, slightly bunched up under the blankets. His bed smelled faintly of Mason's shampoo—wait.

Kye's brows furrowed before he even opened his eyes. Mason's shampoo? Something small shifted against him, and his entire body went stiff.

Mason.

The realization hit him like a jolt of electricity, his breath catching as his brain finally caught up with what his body already knew. Mason was curled against him, pressed to his chest, tucked neatly in the protective circle of his arms as if he had always been there.

What the fuck?

Kye's heart pounded as he stared up at the ceiling, completely still, trying to sift through the scrambled mess of his thoughts. How the hell did this happen? The last thing he remembered was sitting on the chair, Mason in his bed, the human still half-hungover from the night before.

But he didn't remember going to bed. He must have crawled onto the mattress at some point from his own exhaustion

Blinking, only to be pulled back to reality by the gentle weight pressed against his chest. Mason. The tiny human was still curled up close, his face tucked somewhere near Kye's collarbone.

Kye let instinct guide him—his arm shifted, wrapping protectively around Mason's small form, pulling him closer into the warmth of his hoodie.

A sigh escaped Kye's lips, equal parts relief and contentment. He felt Mason's slow, steady breathing against his skin, heard the faint murmur of sleep still clinging to him. For a moment, Kye's heart squeezed with something too big to name, some blend of protectiveness and soft vulnerability. Before he could overthink it, fatigue tugged at him again, and he sank back into a drowsy half-sleep, holding Mason the way someone holds onto the last sweet flicker of a fading dream.

[MASON]

Mason blinked awake, consciousness returning in slow waves. The first thing he registered was the warmth—everywhere. It wrapped around his shoulders, his legs, his entire body. It wasn't just the blankets this time, either. There was something solid and steady, something that gently rose and fell against him.

Kye.

He realized it before he even opened his eyes. Kye's massive arms were curled around him, one splayed across his back, the other beneath his bent knees, as if even in sleep, Kye refused to let go. The giant's chest formed a broad, living pillow beneath Mason's cheek, and Mason could feel the subtle rumble of Kye's slow, even breathing.

The dorm felt chilly despite the morning sun starting to peek through the curtains, but here, pressed against Kye's hoodie, Mason was insulated by the giant's natural heat. He let himself enjoy it for a moment—really enjoy it—closing his eyes again, inhaling the faint scent of detergent mixed with the comforting smell that was purely Kye.

A soft, contented sigh escaped him. He was still a bit worn from the day before—the hangover lingered as a dull ache at the back of his head—this is why he didn't drink.. he was still feeling the hangover two days later.

The gentle rise and fall of Kye's chest lulled him into something that felt almost safe. It was strange how effortless it seemed now, how he barely second-guessed being here. Just a few weeks ago, falling asleep in Kye's arms would've been an awkward, stuttering mess of apologies and boundaries.

Not anymore.

Mason opened his eyes to slivers, peeking up at Kye's face. He was still asleep, lips parted slightly, brow relaxed. Even half-buried in sleep, Kye looked...peaceful, almost boyish, a stark contrast to the guarded man who towered over everyone else by day. The sight made Mason's heart twist in a way he wasn't quite ready to name.

He shifted slightly, testing how tightly Kye was holding him. The giant's grip flexed for a second but didn't stop him from moving. Mason let his eyes wander around the room—the messy blankets, the faint glow of morning light at the window, the oversized clothes Kye had tossed aside. Everything reminded him of how different they were in size, in lifestyle, in how they approached the world.

Yet that difference somehow felt like it fit right into place, especially on mornings like this.

Mason couldn't help a small, private smile. There was no label for what they were—no grand announcement, no conversation about us—just quiet moments stacked one on top of the other, building a closeness he wouldn't trade for anything.

The cold morning outside felt distant and unimportant compared to the slow, warm breaths against his cheek. He let himself relax again, sinking further into Kye's arms, letting the weight of Kye's body and the soft lull of his breathing cushion him from the lingering headache.

For now, that was enough.

He'd deal with the rest of the day—the questions, the teasing, the tension of not quite knowing what they were—later. For this fleeting morning, he let himself simply be, cocooned in Kye's impossible warmth, chasing the last remnants of sleep in a world that was just the two of them.