The next day in training with Saeran, Yoosung was using a punching bag.

"Huh- OOF!" Yoosung grunted as the flat top of his foot hit the hard leather, standing on one leg, arms in a block.

"Good," Saeran murmured, drawing out the middle. He walked around Yoosung and the punching bag slowly, his tank top clinging to his muscled chest.
Yoosung stepped back, and then hit again with three considered punches. His knuckles were raw, but not bleeding yet.
Yoosung pushed himself into a rhythm: step forward, punch punch, step back, breath, step forward, punch punch, step back, breath.

"Harder," Saeran said strictly, and Yoosung landed a heavy punch on the bag, before stepping back, hissing in pain as blood began to seep from his knuckles.

"Break," Saeran said, and Yoosung flopped to the floor. Saeran handed him a cup of water and Yoosung drank it thirstily, some of it spilling down his chin to his chest, mixing with the sweat that was already there.

"Here, let me wrap your hands," Saeran knelt by Yoosung, pulling out a roll of elastic bandages. He picked up Yoosung's wrist and began winding the bandage around his knuckles.

Yoosung, weary, liked the feel of Saeran's hands cradling his own, even though the leader's skin was cracked and dry with callouses, but as gentle as possible on the blonde's raw skin.

"Can we go outside again today?"

Saeran looked up at Yoosung's light purple eyes and sighed, moving to his other hand.

"You'll need a coat and proper warm clothes. I can't take you, but you can ask someone else to, or just go by yourself. I trust you won't run away."

Yoosung wanted to pout, "Why can't you take me?" he murmured.

Saeran sighed, and tied the bandage before standing up, "I have to go out scouting for banished rebels like you."

Yoosung perked up. "Can I come?"

The leader shook his head, exhaling a sigh, helping Yoosung up before placing a large hand on his forehead. "Your body temperature is still too high. You'll get hypothermia if you're out for more than a couple hours."

This time, Yoosung actually did pout, knowing full well that he looked like a toddler.

"Why are you so upset? There are plenty of other people for you to chill with. Go make some friends. And I'll be back a few hours after dinner."

"That's late though!"

"Since when do you care about my sleep schedule?" Saeran retorted bluntly, brushing off Yoosung's pleas.

Yoosung shut up and exhaled through his nose, frowning.

"Now let's try again. Hit with your back and shoulder muscles, use that strength to power your fist. And don't be afraid, so stop punching so weakly."

The criticism fueled Yoosung's agitated state and he stepped forward quickly, hitting the bag with a force that made it swing slightly.
Saeran smirked.

...

That night, Yoosung ate the potatoes and steak with vigor, Cyrus rambling on and on about the ice caves he had searched, Jaehee getting herself into a burping contest with a man named Ajax, and triumphantly slapping him across the cheek when she won.

The tournament was already being prepared for, a hand-to-hand combat event that was scheduled for two days later. The contest consisted of whittling down to the strongest fighters via one-on-one fights, and the strongest faces Saeran.

"No one ever beats Boss," Jaehee told Yoosung proudly. She seemed smug as she scanned the other tables for competitors.

After dinner, Yoosung joined the rest of the Cold outside for a bonfire in the snow, behind the fortress so Aithne and Calida wouldn't see the light. The Cold laughed and sang songs that even Yoosung knew, and the red and orange flames danced with them, whoops and hollers echoing off the cavernous sky.

Yoosung wore a warm leather coat, and he and Cylus laid out wide pieces of thick white birch tree bark next to each other to lay down and watch the brilliant stars. There was no moon (it hadn't risen yet) so the only sources of light were the fire and the millions of pinpricks of silver stars, dancing in Yoosung's vision as he fell asleep.

...

Saeran trudged toward the fortress, legs shaking from exertion. He was surprised to see that the majority of the Cold was outside, talking around a fire. Some people lay on long slabs of tree bark so they didn't have to sit on the snow.

"Saeran!" Someone called, and a couple of people by the fire stood up to greet him. As Saeran grew closer, he noticed the familiar yellow hair of Yoosung laying on a piece of bark by Cylus.

"Damn kid still hasn't adjusted his temp yet," he muttered and promptly picked Yoosung up. "Hey guys, I've gotta bring this crazy bastard inside, and then I'll be right back. Save some booze," Saeran called over his shoulder, cradling Yoosung to his chest.

A few "Yep!"'s shouted back to him in return.

Saeran huffed through the metal door and down the stairs, exhausted from his hike today, but undeterred by Yoosung, who weighed barely anything.

"Are you even eating?" he asked the sleeping boy incredulously, keeping his voice low nonetheless, as to not wake Yoosung.

Yoosung's skin was as fiery hot as Saeran remembered, but he knew better than to believe it was a fever. People from Aithne just had naturally higher body temperatures. He used to too...

"If you don't cool down soon, I'm going to fling you into the snow myself so you can adjust," he muttered as he made his way to the infirmary, carrying the small body of Yoosung just like how he had three days prior.

Upon arrival, Saeran took one look at Vanderwood and rolled his eyes. The coordinator was fast asleep with a bottle of wine beside him. "Lightweight," Saeran scoffed.

He laid Yoosung on an infirmary bed and felt his forehead. Saeran tilted his head to the side, looking at Yoosung's soft features. He had never been so close to Yoosung before, and he tried to ignore the quiet breaths escaping Yoosung's lips and tickling Saeran's neck.

Cute button nose... cute soft cheeks... cute pink lips...

Not really understanding what he was doing or why he was doing it, Saeran leaned down and pressed his lips to the blonde's forehead.

Yoosung's skin burned beneath Saerans lips, but the leader didn't care. He liked the feel. It made his fingers feel tingly and his stomach flip.

Then, Saeran realized what he was doing and jerked back, away from Yoosung, wiping his lips with the back of his hand even though the tingles still remained. What the hell was he doing?!

Saeran backed up, flustered and heart racing. What the fuck?! He had known Yoosung for what, 3 days? And not to mention, he wasn't gay. What would the rest of the Cold think?

Saeran ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands as if they'd answer his questions, confused and overwhelmed.

With that, Saeram turned around and walked as fast as he could out of the infirmary.

...

Yoosung shifted on the bed, opening his eyes. Confused, he looked around. Why was he in the infirmary? Last night when he had fallen asleep in front of the bonfire, did someone bring him inside? Who? And why not bring him to his dorm?

Yoosung sat up, rubbing his head. He felt cold. Slipping out of bed, Yoosung padded over to Emille's bed, who was already up, caressing her giant baby-belly.

"Mornin', Emille," Yoosung yawned, his voice groggy. Her eyes flashed excitedly to him, a small smile curling on her lips.

"Good morning, Yoosung," she said, and gazed steadily into Yoosung's eyes, her own chocolate optics seemingly hiding something, but poking fun at Yoosung for not knowing.

Yoosung brushed off the feeling and sat down on her bed, "How are you feeling? Was he kicking last night?"

"I am feeling fine. Aubin kicked last night, and I think he left a bruise, but he's coming out soon so I suppose some loss of sleep is worth it."

"You can tell that?" Yoosung asked, genuinely interested.

"I know he is ready," Emille hummed to her stomach.

"Let me check that bruise..." Yoosung said nervously, and carefully lifted Emille's shirt from her stomach.

A dark bruise was already forming, and Yoosung nodded. "He's a strong one, that's for sure. Aubin's a fighter..."

Emille grinned, and Yoosung stood, smiling. "I'm gonna go grab something to eat, do you want anything?"

"No, Mr. Vanderwood brought me breakfast about an hour ago. He told me to let you sleep."

"Oh shit, I'm late!" Yoosung said loudly, eyes widening, and waved to Emille before dashing out the door.

Emille watched him with a wide smile. Last night, her baby had kicked her, waking her to see the Cold's leader kiss Yoosung's forehead, and then watch as he ran away. No one else knew but Saeran and her, and she wasn't planning on saying anything, but her knowledge of this made her more than just a pregnant Cold woman... she had a new secret to keep.

...

A/N: Heeey~ do you like the new chapter? Next chapter is gonna be the tournament! Leave a vote and a comment <3 Love you!