Recently there has been an outbreak of cuddling ficlets appearing in bandom. It was started by harborshore here Then mahoni did a cuddle exchange here. I recommend reading through both posts, there's some good stuff.
After writing something for Mahoni's post, I realised it would fit one of my cliche_bingo prompts. Which is why I'm reposting here. I know, I'm the biggest cheater that ever cheated.
Word Count: 1900
Summary: MCR in a cage suspended from a mountain overhang -- and Spiderman.
For the cliche_bingo prompt: Crossover: TV shows and movies.
Bob keeps his hand curled around the metal bars; swallowing hard when someone moves and the cage starts to sway and dip towards one side. He opens one eye and looks around as he demands. "Who's moving?"
Frank looks up from where he's got his arms wrapped around his bent knees, his hands clenched together like he can physically stop himself moving. "It wasn't me this time."
Bob gives him a long one-eyed look, but it's true, Frank isn't moving at all.
"It was me," Mikey says. He's got his face pressed against the bars, his arm stretched out as he holds onto his phone, moving it from side to side as Gerard sits close and holds onto his belt, as if he expects Mikey to fall out and plummet to the ground. "I'm trying to get a signal."
"We're hanging in a cage, over a chasm, and you're only checking now." Ray pushes his fingers into his hair and tugs, looking pained. "Why didn't you check before? And how do you even have a phone? That freak in the lizard suit took mine away."
"Mine too." Mikey wiggles even closer to the bars, wedging his shoulder through the narrow gap. "This is my emergency phone."
"Your emergency phone," Ray says faintly. "Of course it is."
Frank lifts his head, tilting it to the side as he looks Mikey from head to toe. "Where did you even keep it? They saw the one in your pocket."
Mikey frowns and turns so he can ease his other arm through the bars, immediately the cage starts to sway and Bob tightens his grip and fights the urge to hurl. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"I need my thumbs to text," Mikey says, sounding perfectly at ease, like he's not hanging out of a cage over what seems like an endless drop. "Done."
"What do you mean done?" Ray says, his voice rising in pitch as he inches toward Mikey and Gerard. "Why didn't you call someone?"
Gerard tugs at Mikey's belt, says, "A call would make more sense."
"You posted at Twitter didn't you?" Ray tugs at his hair again, and a clump flutters to the ground and skitters across the metal floor before sliding over the edge. "Why would you even do that? They'll think you're joking."
"He's right," Frank says. "You can put any shit on there and they'll think it's funny. No one will believe you."
Mikey turns around and sits, his back to the bars. "Pete would."
"He probably would," Frank says, looking thoughtful. "Especially if you used the code."
Gerard rolls away from Mikey and reaches out his foot, kicking at Frank. "Oh my God, don't mention the code."
"You never mention the code," Ray says, sounding unhappy as he pats Mikey's knee. "It's not that we don't support your lifestyle choices, it's just, we don't need to know about your booty calls."
Mikey crosses his legs at the ankle and scratches at the red mark around his wrist, the skin irritated from where he was shackled when they were captured. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Gerard slaps at Mikey's hand. "Stop that, and we mean the whole Fruit Brute pool house thing."
"Oh," Mikey says, sounding surprised. "You understood that?"
"You're not exactly fucking subtle," Frank says, and start to giggle. "Seriously, the pool house? Come on."
Bob swallows, getting moisture back into his mouth. "If I'm going to die I'm not going out listening to you talking about your sex life with Pete fucking Wentz."
"You're not going to die," Mikey says, and eases himself onto his knees so he can crawl across the cage. It rocks as he does so, and Bob closes his eyes, trying to push down sheer terror at being so high and the knowledge that his friends -- his family -- are going to die, and there's not a thing he can do to stop that. Mikey sits, fitting them together, his arm around Bob's back and his head against Bob's shoulder. "We'll be rescued soon."
"How?" Ray says from where he's curled up next to Gerard, Frank sitting close, the cage tilting down at their side. "You can't rely on Twitter. All you'll have are a thousand replies saying how funny you are."
Mikey runs his thumb over Bob's bare arm. "I didn't post there, I contacted someone else."
Gerard sits up slightly, looking excited. "You didn't?"
Mikey nods and quirks his mouth to one side. "I did."
Gerard opens his eyes wide. "But I thought... You always said... He's coming here?"
Mikey rolls his eyes. "It's kinda what he does."
"I know, but...."
"I swear, if either of you say one more word without an explanation I'll end you," Bob says, well past the point where he can deal with Gerard and Mikey's Wayness. He looks between them both. "I know you've got this whole conversing in facial expressions thing going on, but some of us need translations."
Mikey squeezes Bob's wrist in apology. "I sent a text to Spiderman."
"You know Spiderman?" Frank says, his tone injured. "And you didn't tell me?"
"I'm not supposed to tell anyone."
Frank sits up straight. "But Gerard knows."
Mikey shrugs his shoulder. "Well yeah, I tell Gerard everything."
"You tell me everything," Frank says, sounding hurt. "At least I thought you did."
"How do you even know Spiderman?" Ray cuts in, and Mikey sighs, leaning heavily against Bob.
"Remember last year, when we stayed in that sweet hotel with the rooftop garden? I couldn't sleep so went up there, and sort of tripped and fell off the edge."
"The fuck?!" Bob turns and looks at Mikey, ice flooding his body as he imagines Mikey impacting with the sidewalk. "How the hell did you trip over the edge? There were fences, big ones."
"There was a gate," Mikey says, and he sighs again, a full body sigh that Bob can feel against his side. "It was open and I went to have a look."
"Tell them what else," Gerard says, sounding grim. "How you were texting and listening to music at the same time."
Mikey waves his hand. "Details. Anyway, short story, I fell and Spidy grabbed me before I hit bottom. We got down, I admired his webs, he gave me his number."
Frank presses his hands against his mouth, his shoulders shaking as he laughs. "You picked up Spiderman after falling off a building. I don't know whether to kick your ass or congratulate you.
"I vote for ass-kicking," Bob says, and wraps his arm around Mikey, keeping him close.
"Wait a minute." Ray holds his hand in the air, his forehead creased as he looks at Mikey. "Is all this your fault? It's always the hero's girlfriends that get captured by the villain."
"For one thing," Mikey says, "I'm not a girl. For another, ask Frank about last night."
"Traitor," Frank mutters, drawing his legs to his chest. "How was I supposed to know?"
Gerard turns to Frank, looking confused. "Know what?"
"That the guy he punched was an uber villain," Mikey replies helpfully.
The wind picks up in a sudden gust, the cage sways and Ray pushes his hair out of his face, looking concerned. "Frank punched someone?"
Frank scowls. "He said our music sucked."
"Thousands of people say our music sucks," Bob says, and he's got no idea how his band is even still living, because they're all morons. "You can't punch people for that."
"He said Britney was better. Britney," Frank says with a grimace.
Gerard fixes Frank with a disapproving look. "So you punched him?"
"After he told him what he could do with Britney's snake," Mikey adds. "It was awesome."
"Let me get this straight," Bob says slowly. "We've been captured, shackled, shoved in a cage and left to die because you punched an uber villain who's also a Britney Spears fan?"
Mikey nods. "Britney fans are vicious."
"They are," Ray agrees, and grabs for the bars when Frank gets to his knees, making the cage rock. "Slowly!"
"Sorry," Frank says, knee-crawling toward the edge. "I really need to piss, think anyone is down there?"
"We're in the middle of nowhere," Bob says, and his heart is speeding up, thumping painfully in his chest. "We're suspended from a fucking mountain overhang. Who cares if you piss on someone's head?"
Mikey rolls further onto his side, wrapping both arms around Bob and pulling him into a hug. "We're going to be okay."
"Because Spiderman is coming," Bob says dubiously, holding on and looking at the weave of Mikey's t-shirt.
Which is when Gerard gasps and makes a high-pitched sound. "He's here."
Bob looks past Mikey's shoulder, and sees a familiar red and blue suited figure swinging from the end of a white line, like a comic-book character made real. "Jesus fuck, you contacted Spiderman."
"Told you," Mikey says, and rubs Bob's back as Spiderman lands on top of the cage, sending it spinning.
Mikey waves and grins. "You took your time, I thought we'd be pancakes before you got here."
"It's been five minutes at most," Spiderman says, busy shooting stuff on the bars on top of the cage. "You all need to get into the far corner."
"You're going to blow that shit up, awesome," Frank says, crawling back toward Mikey and Bob's side of the cage. He's followed by Gerard and Ray, and the cage tips back sharply, making Bob gasp when his back impacts with the metal bars.
Mikey turns to him. "You okay?"
"Fine," Bob grits out, and clenches his hands as Spiderman finishes squirting his white goo and then clambers easily around the outside of the cage, clinging on, his fingers close to Bob's head.
"The bars should drop in once it explodes," Spiderman says. "Once that happens I'll take you down to the ground one at a time."
"Wonderful," Bob mutters, and keeps watch as the white stuff seems to double in size before suddenly exploding, sending four bars clanging to the ground. They roll across the floor, landing against Gerard and Ray's legs.
Gerard pushes them away, screwing up his face. "They're hot."
Spiderman drops into the cage. "That tends to happen when you blow stuff up." He looks at them all, or Bob thinks he does, it's hard to tell through the mask. "Who's going down first?"
"Take...." Bob hesitates, torn on who to say.
Gerard kneels. "Bob goes first."
"What? No," Bob protests, because even if he doesn't know who's going first, he knows he's going last.
"Yes," Gerard repeats, and before Bob can protest again he's being plucked up and held against a strong chest.
"Hold on," Spiderman says, wrapping an arm around Bob. Bob does hold on; clutching desperately as Spiderman shoots his web at the overhang and pulls them up before plummeting off the cage toward the ground. Bob doesn't scream -- much.
"I haven't dropped anyone yet," Spiderman says, his mouth close to Bob's ear, and Bob tries to be reassured, but it's hard when he's swinging through thin air, clinging to someone in a skin tight Lycra costume as the wind roars through his hair.
Then they land, and Bob staggers forward, falling to his knees.
Bob collapses down, flopping on his back as he looks up at the cage and as bad as he feels, wind-swept and shaking, all he needs is his band. "I'm fine, go get the others."