Dynasty Decapitated

Who You Gonna Call?

((I love Ghostbusters, the Ghostbusters franchise is the only franchise that will get my money, since Marvel turned captain America into a Mcfreakin Nazi.

Title from Ghostbusters by Ray Parker Jr. Or Walk The Moon? Pentatonix?

-Mel))

((Actually u know what? The one (1) bad thing Ghostbusters (2016) has ever done is rob 5sos blind. I barely like them anymore but girls talk boys deserved better Okay bye))

Calum's never really liked elevators. Like,  he doesn't understand why people created these giant metal boxes and hung them from cables to go up and down bigger, concrete boxes. He figures he was totally fine with skyscrapers and elevators until he got bit.

As a superhuman, he could probably heft the elevator up and drag it from floor to floor by himself if need be, or he could shoot out of here and save himself if the building went down. Technically he doesn't have a problem with elevators and other mechanical tragedies.

Ashton, however.

Calum's eyes flick to his right, where Ashton's messing with his hair on the shiny surface of the elevator doors. He furrows his eyebrows at his reflection, pushes his two strands of hair to the left, and brightens up considerably. Only to frown again and start the entire process over. He's been doing this for forty six floors, now.

Calum hates elevators because Ashton is small and delicate and trapped in them for 88 floors, at least four times a day. They make Calum obnoxiously nervous, because his completely vulnerable human boyfriend seems totally fine taking the elevator. Like he couldn't fall to his death at any second. Like the building won't collapse in on him. Like nothing could possibly go wrong.

Calum kind of wishes Ashton was, like, a landscaper or something. There's no giant, cement and metal buildings in landscaping. Just dirt and plants and sharp fences and lightening and electric mishaps-

Okay, maybe not a landscaper.

Calum wishes Ashton could just sit at home or maybe in an underground bunker, nice and cozy and safe. Unfortunately, someone has to make money so they can afford their apartment and food and other necessities and being an overgrown spider doesn't pay much.

When the elevator signals that they're on the 80th floor, Ashton finishes fussing with his already perfect hair and turns to cup Calum's cheeks gently. “Oh, god, you look-”

“Great, I know,” Calum interrupts.

Ashton gives him an unimpressed look and taps his cheek. Calum speaks Ashton, luckily, and picks at his covered throat until he finds an edge and can pull the bottom half of his mask up, stopping at his nose. Ashton smiles fondly when Calum shows him his clean teeth. “You're right, you look great. I was going to say average or mediocre, but the teeth really sealed the deal. “

“I know, they're great,” Calum smiles. The elevator dings, so Ashton darts forward and kisses him softly before Calum rolls down his mask again. “I'll come meet you for lunch, okay? Love you.”

“You're alright,” Ashton pats his cheek as the doors open. Rolling his eyes, Calum watches him bounce out of the tiny steel trap with his Official Scientists Badge. He holds it up and grins triumphantly at Calum before bounding off to go do Science-y things Calum won't understand.

The doors start closing just as Luke slips in, looking unimpressed by Calum's presence. “What is it, Walk Your Boyfriend to Work Day?” He mutters. He's got what seems to be an extra large cup of coffee one hand, still steaming, and a slip of paper with more coffee orders in the other.