Sky High belongs to the Disney gods, not me. I didn't ask to use the characters, but I respect them greatly! Hence the using. I made no money off of them... please don't sue.
This was Not Good.
Note the use of capital letters on the beginning of each word there. That denotes the extreme importance and seriousness of what is being said. When not good becomes Not Good, it means that death, apocalypse, or cheek-pinching aunts are imminent.
And this, this was the biggest Not Good Will had seen in awhile.
That might have been because he was currently hanging by his wrists, which were chained somewhere above him to the ceiling, and his feet were also chained rather nicely, with another chain running from those ankle ones to the floor. It wasn't fun. Apparently whoever had tied him up knew about his flight and superstrength, because quite frankly, these chains were strong. Very strong. Strong enough that he couldn't break them, which was what led to the Not Good. Granted, he'd never seen who had tied him up because he'd kind of been attacked from behind when he was trying to fight off Royal Pain, but you can't really blame a man for being slightly distracted when his ex breaks out of prison and tries to kill you.
So here he hung, without even a sidekick to talk to, kicking his legs back and forth so that he swung a little. It didn't really relieve his boredom, but it was better than doing nothing, so he swung back and forth, humming stupid showtunes and waiting for someone to show up.
And someone did.
There was an explosion somewhere nearby, a small one but an explosion nonetheless, and Will jumped, looking over in that direction anxiously, waiting to see if it was friend or foe.
Well, and when he saw who came in the door, it could have really been classified as either.
Warren Peace - commonly called Hothead these days - stood in the doorway, dressed in his black spandex suit and half mask, the flames on his wrists and cape looking particularly striking in the half light of the room Will was tied in. He smirked when he saw Will, in his predictable red, white and blue spandex and cape combination, hanging from the ceiling. "Having a little trouble there, are we, Stronghold?"
"Get me down, will you?" Will demanded of his best friend, chains clinking as he swung a little, struggling.
"I don't know," Warren laughed. "You look comfortable. Why would I deprive you of that?"
"Warren," Will growled, kicking as hard as he could. "Please?!"
The flamethrower just snickered, flicking his hands down so that the flames gathered beneath his feet, and he rose through the air, hovering before Will for a moment, though he did have to reach a hand out to rest it on Will's shoulder to steady himself. He may have figured out how to use fire and rising air currents to fly, but he hadn't figured out great control yet. "Well, if you can't break out, how am I supposed to help?"
That thought sobered Will up considerably. "Oh. Hadn't thought of that."
"You tend not to," Warren nodded, seriously. "So. What'll it be? I can burn your hands off, so we can drag you out of here."
Will's eyes widened considerably. "Let's not."
"Okay... I can burn the building down, that should weaken the structure enough that we could get you out then," Warren offered.
"Yeah, and burn me alive while we're at it. No, thanks."
"Hn." Warren frowned. "I could go beat up Royal Pain and see if she has the keys."
"That sounds like a plan," Will perked up.
"You know, except that Stitches and Penny would probably come in and kill you while I was distracted," Warren nodded.
"Right." Will pursed his lips. "Not such a good idea."
"No. So." Warren considered. "Well, I suggest we get drunk, cause I'm all out of ideas."
"Oh come on," Will protested, wriggling so that the chains quivered and Warren gripped his shoulder tighter to keep himself balanced. "You've got to have some other idea!"
Warren frowned, looking down at their feet for a moment, then back up to Will's face. "Well, I have... one idea."
"Sounds good, what is it?!" Will grinned nervously.
"Well, it's odd," Warren said.
"Odd is good, good, good, what is it?" Will insisted.
"Well, I can't really explain it, you'll have to trust me."
Will swallowed. "Am I going to die or be maimed?"
Warren grinned. "No."
"Okay..." Will squeezed his eyes shut. "I trust you."
Next thing he knew, Warren had his arms around his neck, and he was kissing him.
Will's eyes flew open again, but Warren's were shut, and despite Will's muffled protests, he didn't let up. Instead, he just continued to search Will's mouth, in fact plunging his tongue inside and daring Will's to dance.
Okay, Will decided. This wasn't a Not Good. This wasn't even a not good, no capitals. It was kind of edging on just, well, regular good. Until, of course, Warren's hips joined in on the fun too and Warren upgraded this to Really Good.
Will was actually really starting to enjoy this, and was aching to get his hands free when there was a sudden feeling of not being as heavy, and a loud thunk. The two men pulled apart, and peered downward. The chains that had been tied around Will's feet now lay on the ground, smoking, some of them actually red hot.
"The chain broke," Will said, quite rhetorically. Any idiot could see that.
Warren blinked. "Oh. Guess these things were vulnerable to heat after all."
"So... you were doing that so that you were close enough so your flames on your feet could burn through the chain?" Will brightened. "Brilliant!"
"Ah... not really, but if that works for you, sure," Warren shrugged, and reached up to turn his flames on the chains on Will's hands. Minutes later, those too broke off, and they both floated to the floor, where they pulled the remnants of the chains off.
"Huh." Will grinned. "Thanks for the rescue, Warren."
"Yeah." Warren smirked thinly. "Welcome."
Will paused, then said slowly, "You know, maybe you'd better come home with me. Make sure Royal Pain doesn't try again on the way. Then... maybe you should stay the night or something, make sure I don't get chained to anything else. Unless you want me to be."
Warren's eyebrow arched, and he turned to face Will, smirk turning almost devious. "Maybe I'd better."