Boy Trouble GT

Chapter 43

[KYE]

Kye tugged the hood of his sweatshirt further forward, trying to shield his face from the glaring sun. Every time a breeze passed, it offered a brief moment of relief—but otherwise, the day's heat had him wishing he were back in the dorm, hunched over a textbook. Still, here he was, acting as Mason's personal stopwatch and feeling only half-prepared for the role.

He sat slouched on a small bench near the edge of the track. Calling it "small" was an understatement—it was meant for humans, so even perched on it, his knees rose almost to his chest. He clutched his phone in both hands, the timing app open, and occasionally peered over the screen to track Mason's position.

Mason, on the other hand, looked completely in his element. From this distance, Kye couldn't see the smirk on the tiny man's face, but he felt its presence every time Mason glanced in his direction. Mason was confident, focused, practically gleaming in the afternoon sun. Kye felt a twist in his stomach—some mix of pride and awkwardness. The difference in their heights, in their entire bearing, was never more obvious than on a day like this.

"Three... two... one... Go," he mumbled, pressing 'start' on the timer.

Mason launched forward in a blur of motion. Kye squinted, tracking the progress through the glare, trying not to lose sight of his rapidly moving figure. The rhythmic pounding of Mason's feet against the track echoed, and within seconds, he'd crossed the makeshift finish line. Kye hit 'stop,' blinking at the phone.

He could hear Mason's light footsteps returning toward him. Leaning his phone away from the sun's glare, Kye read off the digits.
"Ten point... nine-two," he said quietly, still having to raise his voice a bit.

Mason's eyes lit up, and he let out a panting whoop. "Under eleven!" He bent over with his hands on his knees, breathing hard but laughing. "That's a new one."

Kye nodded, sliding his gaze back to the phone. "Yeah, nice," he managed, a flicker of a smile tugging at his lips. He wasn't sure if Mason could tell how proud he felt—pride for a feat he'd done nothing to achieve except press a button.

Mason took a moment to stretch and catch his breath, then locked eyes with Kye. Even from a distance, that quiet confidence radiated off the smaller man, making Kye shift self-consciously in his undersized seat.

"Wanna see me do it again?" Mason teased, striding closer.

Kye huffed, tapping the screen to reset the timer. "I guess," he muttered. "If you're still not tired."

Mason chuckled, pulling a quick jog in place. "One more, then we'll call it," he agreed.

Kye gave a short nod and motioned for him to set up again. The moment Mason took off, Kye watched intently, pressing 'start' with a practiced gesture. The phone was still a novelty in his large hands—he always worried he might fumble it. But he managed not to drop it, leaning forward to see Mason bolt down the track with surprising speed.

Less than twelve seconds later, Mason was back, leaning forward and grinning broadly. Kye read off the time, this one only slightly slower, but he still offered an approving grunt.

"Okay," Mason said between breaths, "that's enough... enough for today." He wandered over to Kye, grabbing a water bottle from the ground. After taking a long swig, he wiped his mouth on his arm. "Thanks for helping, big guy."

Kye shrugged, pulling his hood back a bit. "Yeah. It's hot," he said, stating the obvious. "But... s'fine," he added in a quieter voice, hoping Mason would realize that meant he didn't mind coming at all.

Mason's expression flickered with amusement as he raised an eyebrow. "Aw, you think I'm hot?" he teased, smirking. "Didn't know you'd admit it so easily, big guy."

Heat flooded Kye's cheeks, and he reflexively tugged the hood further down. "I meant the weather," he muttered defensively, his voice a quiet rumble. "Not you."

"Sure, sure," Mason retorted, tone dripping with playful sarcasm. "Me or the sun—we're both scorching, right?"

Kye gave an exasperated sigh but couldn't fully hide the tiny, shy smile sneaking onto his face. "You're impossible," he grumbled, getting to his feet in a careful, gangly motion.

Mason just laughed, a sound that cut through the lingering heat of the day.

When Mason turned to gather his bag, Kye let his gaze linger. The difference in their sizes felt sharper when they were alone like this, the track mostly empty. Kye never quite knew if Mason noticed as much as he did. For Mason to be so confident, so at home on the field, while Kye curled himself onto a bench—it was jarring. But it also made him want to protect that ease in Mason's posture, to keep it from ever disappearing.

"Alright," Mason said, hefting his bag over one shoulder, "let's get out of here. I'm starving."

Kye grunted, shifting his legs to stand. His back complained as he rose to his full height, overshadowing the small bench.

A playful grin curved across the smaller man's mouth as he stepped aside, gesturing for Kye to lead.

They began to walk away, the sun casting their elongated shadows across the track—one tall and imposing, the other small and sprightly—yet side by side, comfortable in each other's presence. And as they left, Kye realized that maybe, just maybe, he didn't feel so out of place after all.