Frozen~ (Supa Strikas)

Cold

Tiger whined, digging himself further into the covers situated around himself, like a puppy seeking comfort from its mother. All that was seen of the midfielder was the tip of his red hair over the blankets. Through the shaking, however, he felt a warm hand on his back, rubbing it soothingly.

"-I know it's cold you lot, but you'll be much better soon." Shakes was saying to them all, probably having another hand on El Matador's back since Tiger was no longer sitting next to the Spanish male. "I can't even imagine what you're going through." He said, trying to let them know that they were amazing for going through with this.

The yapping Strika turned his head when a rustling noise stopped him. He smiled slightly when a small face popped up from the blankets; nose scrunched up cutely and eyes half liddled with exhaustion. "Hey, Tiger." He whispered, careful not to jostle the boy out of his 'fort'. "You doing okay?"

The twister didn't even want to shake his head because of how shitty he felt. His fingers and ears were numb and that feeling was slowly traveling throughout him, chilling him to his core. "Hurts." He said simply, hoping that was enough and the Striker didn't want him to elaborate.

Shakes only nodded and looped an arm around his aching body, drawing him close enough so Tiger could feel Shakes' heat. The little he gave out anyway.

The redhead used this time to scope out what was happening in the front of the bus since all he'd heard were arguments about something. He watched as Rasta debated with Cool Joe about what they should do when they arrive. North Shaw was shivering and being held in Joe's grip, covered in blankets and leaning against the midfielder.

He couldn't really understand what they were talking about because they were going too fast and his numb, tired brain couldn't keep up and translate, so he turned his gaze across from Shakes, seeing the lump that was El Matador.

The Spanish had his head in Shakes lap, feet kicked up towards the window, covered in their own blanket. A faint whirring sound had come into contact with his ears, and he instantly knew the man was using his hairdryer to keep him warm under the covers. He would've cracked a smile on how weird that was, but in all honesty, Tiger wanted one himself now.

"Rasta." Shakes was calling the Captain, and it snapped him out of his dazed form. "Rasta!" His voice rose a little higher, and the Leader turned to see what the Striker wanted him for. Tiger took this opportunity to bury himself into Shakes' shoulder, wanting to keep his nose warm while the Captain came near.

"Yeah, Shakes-Man?" The Jamaican asked, starting to make his way down the aisle. "What's up?"

"Tiger's awake and hurting." Now that the midfielder was more awake, he noticed the raw pain in Shakes voice, and saw the frustration and guilt his was feeling in his eyes. He'd always been the one to feel guilty when one of the team gets hurt, especially the only one younger than him. "I don't know what to do." Shakes whispered fitfully.

The captain smiled sadly, kneeling down and pressing his hand where he supposed Tiger's arm was, rubbing it gently. "The cold hurts, don't it Ti'?" A sniffling nod greeted his view when the midfielder took his head out of Shakes shoulder, staring at the Leader with those godforsaken puppy-eyes that made Rasta stop computing for a moment. "We're working on fixing the heating, and we're really, really close to the hotel now, I promise."

Taking a seat on the other side of the midfielder, he pressed his warmth into the only awake freezing-male, it being much greater than Shakes warmth and made him sigh in semi-content.

Letting Tiger lean on him now, Rasta crooked a glance over at the lump of warmth that made up their striker. "How is he?" He asked the second youngest, gesturing with his eyes over at El Matador.

"Woke up five or so minutes ago and complained so much I thought I might kill him." Shakes gave a chuckle, but frowned. "He's got his hairdryer and hot water bottle... Ti' doesn't have anything." His guilty eyes turned once more to stare at the smallest midfielder, and the Captain laughed.

"Yeah, but he's got body heat, determination and many more blankets. They'll both be fine."

The pair silently watched as Tiger began to fall asleep again, half closed eyes gazing around hazily as he lazily fisted some of the Leaders clothing, gripping it gently between his small fingers slowly turning into sleepy fists.

A small clicking noise disturbed them, and Tiger fought himself to try and wake up, making small little noises that instantly stopped when Rasta threaded both their fingers together under the blankets. He glared up to find a half-asleep North Shaw and a well-awake Cool Joe giggling and sharing the photos they'd been collecting this whole time. 

He sighed and closed his eyes again. "I quit."