Sky High copyright Disney, not me. No money was made from this story.

"Eee!" Josie squealed, spinning around in a relatively graceful circle, Steve holding her hands and laughing as he swung her. "Oh, this is so much fun!" she laughed.

"Yeah, totally," Zach agreed as he and Magenta tottered past, both clinging to each other in an attempt to not repeat the half dozen spills they'd had so far. "Thanks for inviting us, Mrs. S!"

"Yeah, thanks," Magenta said tightly, clinging desperately to Zach's arms.

"Come on," Warren meanwhile, was trying his patience as he attempted to coax Will onto the ice. Who would have ever figured that the flamethrower who hated to be cold could skate like he was born on the ice while the super strong one who could fly through the air like it was water was actually scared to go on the ice.

"Nope," Will stubbornly shook his head. "Don't want to. I'll fall on my ass, and you'll laugh at me."

Warren groaned. "No, I won't."

Will just gave him a pointed look.

"Ok, I will," Warren shrugged. "But that's not the point, Stronghold. The point is we have been here for half an hour, and you refuse to even come on the ice. So up. Out. Now."

Will continued to shake his head. "Not gonna happen, W'ren."

Warren sighed, then reached out, grabbed Will's arms, and dragged his spluttering boyfriend out onto the ice.

"W'ren!" Will yelped, clinging tight to the other's arms, and though Warren flinched a little, he otherwise didn't make any mention of the fact that he could feel his arms bruising and his bones grinding. "Gah! Want off!"

"What are you, three?" Warren scoffed, skating easily backwards, bringing Will with him. "It's not scary, Stronghold. You beat up villains all the time, you fly, you beat up school bullies at the speed of dorkiness, but you can't skate?"

"No!" Will squeaked, knuckles white, he was gripping Warren's arm so tightly. "I don't skate! Glad we've confirmed that! Let me off the ice, please?!"

"What's the point of skating if you're not skating?" Warren pointed out, gradually leading them around the edge of the pond.

"It's called sitting on the sidelines," Will nodded fervently. "Please let go?"

"You want me to let go?"Warren asked sweetly, raising a single eyebrow.

"Yes, that would be excellent!" Will gasped, pleased that Warren was listening.

"You have to let go of my first," Warren reminded him, glancing down at his arms.

"Oh, right." Will slowly pried his fingers off of Warren's arm, and Warren, true to his promise, let go and skated back.

Will screamed, and grabbed desperately at Warren's arms. "No, don't let go, don't let go!"

"Make up your mind already," Warren laughed, skating a quick circle around his boyfriend. "You want me to let go or not?"

"Not!" Will squeaked, and grabbed at Warren's arms again. He managed to grab onto his this time, but the momentum he had gathered to make the grab made his slip, and together, the two of them tumbled to the ice, Warren laughing, Will groaning.

Grinning up at the shorter boy lying sprawled on top of him, Warren kissed Will lightly, once on the lips, once on the tip of his nose, and once on each of his rosy, wind-pinked cheeks. "You're adorable when you're scared."

"And you're a bastard," Will sighed, kissing him again.