Masterpieces {Book 2}

It's not the end of the world

Credit; Emmybazy

{pic on the side; liTERALLY THEM IN ThiS ONE SHOT OMFG}

so this is based off hey! Everybody obvi, and it's rich! Cake.

Enjoy :)

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"Hey," Calum says as Luke walks through the archway that connects the main entry hall to the west living room.

"Hi," Luke looks exhausted, tension held up high in his shoulders.

Leonardo stirs from his spot next to Calum and jumps of the couch to join Donatello at Luke's feet. They're up to Luke's knee now, almost done with their puppy years. Luke bends down and scritches behind Donny's ear as he undoes his tie with the other, "Hi fellas."

Calum frowns. It's almost ten and they live an hour outside the city. Luke must have been working until nine. It's the third time since Calum got back from filming the Oregon segment of his TV series that Luke's stumbled in the door long after the sun sets.

Calum can tell, under the light make up Luke has started dusting over the bags under his eyes, that Luke is falling apart. He's a guitar string pulled taut and slightly off key. Their alarm goes off every morning at 5:30 so Luke can be out the door and on his way by 6, beating the morning rush to the office. Calum can see the toll it's taking on Luke, the once loose body on constant alert. Luke puts on the happy, ever professional face that Calum hates for work. Calum can't keep watching him do this.

Luke collapses onto the couch next to Calum, lying his head in Calum's lap where Leo had sat. Luke groans low and deep, the vibration running up Calum's leg. Calum drags his hands through Luke's carefully styled hair, dismantling the harsh lines until it feels slick and oily between his fingers. He prefers it like this, dirty and matted.

"There's food in the kitchen," Calum mutters to the quiet room, "Ashton was over for dinner and we made extra for you." He doesn't mean it to slide out of his mouth like an accusation. Calum doesn't want to make Luke feel guilty but there are only so many times Calum can make excuses for him not being here.

"Shit," Luke's lips drag across Calum's sweat pants, "how much longer is he in town?"

"He leaves Sunday morning," Calum moves his hand down to Luke's throat, trying to knead some of the stress out, "He said he'd come back for lunch tomorrow to see you before he leaves."

Luke groans, "Can we do dinner instead?"

"Why?"

"I have to go into the office tomorrow morning. I'll try to be back by 4, maybe earlier."

Calum chills at the words and drops his head into his hand, "Not again Luke."

"I'm sorry." Luke sounds sincere. It sounds sincere every time he does this yet he doesn't stop.

"You haven't had a full weekend in weeks," Calum looks down at the smooth lines of Luke's jaw, "Did you even come home while I was gone?"

Luke tilts his head further into Calum's thigh and hides. So that's a confirmation. Calum can picture the nights Luke spent in the office, falling asleep at his desk because Calum wasn't home to motivate him for the drive back. If anything, he probably got more sleep there, not having to commute in the mornings.

"I will cancel the show if you can't take care of yourself when I film Luke, I swear-"

"I'm fine Calum," Luke huffs, sitting up, "It's fine."

"It's really not," Calum levels him with a glance. Luke straightens his $5,000 suit. It clings to his frame, elegant lines falling from his torso. Luke only goes to the best tailors.