#i wsih people would talk to me about this au its one of my favorites...........

[loftyexecutor]

clean slate (11/?)

Pairing: (eventual) addcest [LPDE] & elsain [LKATh] WC this chapter: 3600 Rating: T+ TWs: (past) abuse AU: modern/single parent Lusa (with his tiny son Arc) + runaway Esper (hah) Notes: i wont spoil anything but i feel like this is my favorite chapter so far 

ao3 link

It’s with a heavy heart that Esper shoves a shirt into his backpack and then, after a second’s deliberation, grabs another one, Lusa’s, from where it’s thrown over the laundry basket. He’d never thought he would feel like this one day, throwing essentials into a bag to leave, heart in the pit of his stomach. He’d never thought he’d get attached to a place.

The last time he’d done this, much less peacefully, he’d been full of adrenaline, panic coursing through his very veins. He remembers looking over his shoulder the whole time, watching carefully if his father stirs from his unconsciousness. He doesn’t to that now; doesn’t have to, since he’d hear either Lusa or Arc coming long before they’d see him pushing all the overflowing things further into the bag to zip it up.

He can’t help but wonder if he’ll be missed. Arc had grown attached to him, and Lusa was nice to him, but ultimately, they’d go back to how they were before he’d turned up. Lusa will probably be happier, having his workshop all to himself again, not having to care for Esper’s untimely outbursts.

He resolves to stop thinking about it lest he start crying and wakes someone up with the sound.

He throws the bag over his shoulder and then picks up the note he’d spent an agonizingly long time writing up. He places it onto the dining table for Lusa to find easily in the morning. He would feel bad for leaving without even saying a goodbye, but he can’t exactly do that without Lusa attempting to stop him. He could also go for a hug that he knows Lusa would provide more than happily, but he also can’t have that, even if he feels so, so cold. Suddenly it doesn’t feel like the summer anymore.

Esper shakes his head to clear it and then slips on his shoes. He can’t handle turning around eve once more to look at the house he’d come to call home, a real home as it’s defined in the dictionaries, as opposed to the prison he’d spent his life at before.

He steps onto the dark street with quaking shoulders.

                                                         —

“Heey! Give back my dinosaur!”

“Shea!”

“But da-ad! It’s my turn!”

“That’s my dinosaur!”

“Shea, you lost your dinosaur last week. Give it back to your brother.”

“But da——d!”

“No buts! Give it back and go brush your teeth, both of your. It’s way past your bedtime.”

“...okay…”

Arme sighs, adding ‘get Shea a new toy dinosaur’ to his mental to-do list. He turns to Knight, who is still sitting on the sofa, fiddling with his phone and the strap on it. Arme’s expression melts as he sits by him, enveloping him with an arm.

“You tired?” he asks, bumping into Knight’s head with his.

Knight chuckles and returns the gesture. “A little. I still can’t believe what happened to Lusa today.”

Arme’s answer is a nod. He takes the phone from his husband’s hands and puts it onto the coffee table. The entire conversation is ingrained in his brain just as much as it is in Knight’s.

Knight had called Lusa to ask about going bowling next weekend, but it’d been obvious Lusa was not alright just from his tone of voice. Knight had put him on speaker then, and Arme had found his way into the living room, drawn by their discussion.

Lusa told them what had happened, and then promptly cried soft sobs into the phone. He didn’t want to wake up anyone, but Knight and Arme were lending an ear, he just couldn’t help it.

Knight had assured Lusa he’d personally be of help hiding the body if Asker were to ever show up again. Arme wasn't sure how to feel — because on one hand he completely agreed, but he also kew Knight was completely serious, so on the other hand he wished it wouldn’t come to that.

Finally, they managed to coerce Lusa to get some sleep, but ‘out of sight, out of mind’ never really worked its supposed magic with them.

“We’re a family,” Arme tells Knight, slow and deliberate. “We protect our own. God help those who would try harming Esper.”

Knight grins tiredly and then leans up to place a kiss to Arme’s temple. His lips linger there for a moment, and when they leave, Knight’s entire head rests on Armes shoulder instead. “You always know what to say.”

“Don’t make fun of me—”

“I’m not! I’m not,” Knight defends himself, “I mean it. That was very ice.”

Arme huffs. “You didn’t marry me because of my linguistic abilities or lack thereof.”

“You’re right, I married you for that sweet cheque you bring home every month.”

“Elsword Knight Sieghart-Ishmael, I swear—”

“Dad! Papa! We want a story!” Anpa cries from the upper floor, much to Knight’s elation. He uses the distraction to slip out of Arme’s hold and heads upstairs.

Arme watches with a fond look. He also adds ‘buy Knight something nice from that sweet cheque he brings home every month’ to his to-do list. It’s really getting too long at this point.

It’s not much later that he follow upstairs, stationing himself at the door of their boys’ room like a guard, listening in on every soft word Knight reads from the boys’ favorite storybook. The story of the fearless knight and the crystal of life. Arme knows it by heart, could probably wi a recital , that’s how many times he’d read it already. And Knight alike, probably even a few more times than him.

Still, there is no such thing calming like his husband’s voice piercing the nightly silence, and Arme closes his eyes to enjoy it to the fullest. It’s not like he can’t picture Knight’s smiles and fond looks aimed at their sons with perfection anyway.

He’s almost lulled to sleep himself by the time Knight finishes the story and places kisses on their boys’ heads, doing his best not to wake either of them. He’s smiling sleepily as he leaves the room, the click of the door handle hiding the smack their lips make as they come together.

“Let’s sleep, too,” he whispers, and Arme is nodding along with practiced ease, though he swoops down to get one more kiss beforehand.

Knight is tugging his shirt off before they’re even in the bedroom, sending it flying towards the direction of the bathroom. Arme would laugh if he didn’t feel similarly tired. He starts working his clothes off when Knight pipes up from the dresser, holding their pajamas in his hands with unnatural stiffness.

He’s staring out of the window as if transfixed.

“Is that—” He leans over the dresser, knocking over a — fortunately unlit — candle holder. “Is that Esper?!”

Arme frowns, running over so he can look out the window himself Sure enough, the figure passing their house has Esper’s hair, and is tall enough to pass for him. Arme’s breathing stutters as soon as he notices the bulging backpack on the figure’s back.

It might just be a coincidence, but then again…

There’s no one in the town who resembles Esper, especially not like that. Arme is rushing to get his phone from its charging station on the bedside table.

“We have to call Lusa,” he says, already doing just that. Knight peeks peering out the window, watches the figure go further and further down the street.

“What’s that way—?” Knight asks, but it hits him almost the second the words leave his lips. “The bus stop! Arme, he’s planning to leave!”

Knight’s panicked words only serve to make the dialing tones more terse. “Pick up, pick up, God, make him pick up alread—”

“Hm? Arme?” Lusa slurs from the other side of the line, obviously having been just awoken.

“Lusa, is Esper home?” Arme asks in a rush.

Lusa sounds confused, and Arme can almost see the little crease between his brows. “Wha? He went to bed before me…? Why’re you askin’?”

“Lusa, I need you to go check Esper’s room right the fuck now. Knight, I’m gonna start the car,” Arme instructs, pulling his shirt back on haphazardly.

There’s a distant, “Wow! Language!”

“Did something happen?” Lusa asks, starting to wake up more. Arme isn’t sure whose heavy footsteps he hears; Lusa’s or his own. The automatic light turns on as he steps onto the porch, already clicking the car lock off.

“Fuck!” Lusa hisses into his ear, “He’s not here! It’s a fucking mess, what happened?” He sounds just as panicked as Arme knows he is.

“Knight saw him going down our street a few ago,” he tries explaining. Hes jabbing the key into the ignition and pushing the phone against his shoulder with the side of his face as he peels off the driveway, making a sharper turn than he ever would during daylight. “He had a bag. Knight thinks he’s going to the bus stop.”

“Fuck! What’s he thinking?”

Arme has no answer for that question, but he knows Lusa does. There’s silence for a few blocks and then Lusa breathes heavily into the receiver and says, “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Please, stop him.”

“That’s the plan,” Arme cuts off, Lusa’s voice fading off with the end of the call.

                                                        —

Lusa’s hands tremble as he holds the paper, wrinkling it with the force of his grip. He wishes he could unread something, but alas, he has no such powers or luck.

— Lusa,

I hope you had a good rest. I decided it was too dangerous for me to stay when father knows there this is. I can’t imagine if he’d hurt you or Arc and I can’t risk it. Sorry I left without a word, but I don’t want you to try to stop me. It’s better this way. You’ll be safe if you don’t know where I am. My father is a dangerous man, you’re lucky nothing happened to you yesterday. Please please don’t look for me.

Thank you for everything. I hope I can repay you one say, somehow.

— Esper

Lusa feels like what he’d just read isn’t real, but Arme had made it all too real, and painfully so. He’s grabbing his keys before he can think about it a second longer, running out in nothing but his pajamas and bedheaded hair.

The letter gets shoved into his pocket haphazardly and Lusa wants to forget it exists, but it’s burning a hole through his jeans and soul alike. Nothing save it feels real at the moment; the dark and quiet transforms the town into something unfamiliar, strange.

The drive feels at once endless and over too soon. Lusa’s sneakers drag over the concrete as he half-jogs to the bus stop, breathing out an immediate sigh of relief when he spots a hunched-over figure.

Esper sits on the bench, the lone street lamp that reaches the secluded spot casting long shadows over his figure. Sure enough, there’s a bag on his shoulders. He was really planning on leaving.

Lusa can’t breathe.

“Esper!” he cries, breaking out into a full run and almost tripping himself over a curb.

Esper jerks, turning a wide-eyed face towards him, recoiling almost immediately. Lusa comes to a halt when he reaches him, panting and with equally wide-eyed stare. Esper is holding up his arms in front of his chest as if waiting to be struck down, to defend himself. The implications churn Lusa’s stomach in the very opposite of a good way.

How does he show Esper that he wouldn’t hurt him, never ever again? Each day, each tiny jolt and jerk and careful, fearful glance he beats himself up for contributing to it, wishing there was a way to re-do history and change not only his meeting with Esper, but everything else as well.

He only just notices Arme sitting next to Esper when he leans to look at him closer, frowning like Lusa had done something awful. And, fuck, Lusa doesn’t need him to remind him too; he’s very capable of kicking his brain himself, thank you very much.

He all but collapses at Esper’s feet, reaching out to grab his hands in his, enveloping them and warming the cold skin. He can’t hold back the tears that he didn’t even know he still had after all the ones he’d spent today.

Esper stares down at him, mirroring him with a look of agony that Lusa wishes will never cross his face ever again.

“Please, please, please don’t leave,” Lusa chokes out, back bending down in tandem with the quiet wail that leaves his chapped, bitten-up lips. His forehead comes to rest against Esper’s knees, yet he keeps talking. Esper and Arme hear him clear as day, no matter the mumbles or sobs. “Please, I promise nothing will happen to you anymore, so please, rethink it— I don’t want to lose you, Esper, please…”

Esper weeps — one would think he’d also have no tears left to cry anymore, after a day full of them, but no, his tearducts are as functional as ever and provide the saltiness diligently — and he leans over Lusa, squeezing his hand with his trembling ones. Lusa squeezes back and that simple human contact warms Esper like nothing else could.

“I—” he gasps, sniffling like a whining puppy that had been kicked. His face is a mess of various fluids and he’s thankful for the bad light so the others don’t have to see him like that. “I don’t want to leave…!”

“You don’t have to, you don’t, so please,” Lusa begs, gripping onto Esper like his entire life depends on it.

Maybe it does.

Arme rubs Esper’s back in silence. He knows there’s not much more he can do than he’d already done, or say more than he already had. He’s glad Lusa didn’t have to see Esper when he’d first realized he’d been caught in the act, fighting and begging. Really a sight Arme himself wishes to erase from his memory. He’s not sure how Lusa would have reacted.

Esper shakes between the two of them, trying to stifle his sobs and hiccups. His success is debatable, but it’s not like either of them is going to start the debate.

“I’m sorry,” he says, not without his voice breaking in the middle though, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay,” Lusa echoes back back to each of Esper’s apologies, pulling the man closer, enveloping him in a tight embrace. He doesn’t want to ever let go, ever let Esper slip from his fingers like he’d tried.

They’re pulled out of their thoughts, out of their tears, by the bus coming up to a stop by their little bench, tires screeching too-loud in the night.

Lusa stares at the vehicle and then looks back at Esper, holding him in place with a terrified look. With wide and bloodshot eyes and tear streaks running down his cheeks like rivulets of pain, Esper isn’t sure he’d ever seen Lusa look this scared before. Lusa was strong, he was the one who didn’t cry — today is the first time Esper had ever seen him shed a tear, and what a way to find out.

“Please,” Lusa chokes out, no more than a cut-off whisper that gets stuck halfway up his throat, “I won’t— I can’t make you stay if you don’t want to, but please— please don’t go.”

Esper sobs again, lips wobbling as he grits his teeth and fights not to screw his eyes shut. He almost knocks Lusa backwards with the force he throws himself at him again, clinging like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood. Lusa feels like an anchor, holding him down so he feels real again when everything feels like a bad, bad dream.

“I don’t want to leave,” he confesses again, straight into the fabric of Lusa’s already wrinkled shirt.

“Then don’t! I promise everything will be alright.”

Esper lets himself get lulled by the soft words until the bus drives closes the doors to the vehicle again and speeds off, disappearing into the distance as its tail lights fade out of view.

“Would you like to go home?” Lusa asks, peeking at Arme over the tremble of Esper’s shoulder. They share a look full of nothing but relief, though Arme knows Lusa feels much more of it than him.

Esper nods, choppy, timid. It would’ve gotten unnoticed if he didn’t have his face pressed into the crook of Lusa’s neck and Lusa couldn’t feel even miniscule movements.

“Then let’s go, let’s get some rest.”

                                                        —

“Thank you, Arme,” Lusa says, standing in the doorway. He looks so tired now, with bags under his eyes and unable to even form a real smile.

Arme shakes his head, arms folded not defensively, but pensively. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll Knight everything is fine, he must be worried sick by now.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Again, not your fault. Not Esper’s, either. Please go get some rest.”

Lusa nods, staring off into nothing again. “Yeah,” he says finally, when the sound of boiling water and the kettle squeaking reaches his ears. “Be careful on the way home.”

“I will. Good night, Lusa,” Arme tells him. He hesitates for a moment, though, then reaches up and softly claps Lusa’s shoulder. Then he’s heading back to his car.

The clock on the hallway wall reads 3:19 when Lusa closes the door and leans back on it to catch his breath, way past his or Arme’s bedtime on a weekday. They’re all going to be messes tomorrow.

But there’s someone who’s a mess right now who needs attention. Lusa paddles his way to the kitchen to find Esper pouring tea. He’s handed a steaming mug and Esper gives a wide smile to go along with it.

“Here. I thought it might help you sleep. It’s chamomile.”

Lusa puts the mug down onto the table. “Esper,” he says sternly, but not unkindly, “You don’t need to act like nothing happened.”

Esper’s falls off like a leaf in the autumn breeze. He holds his own mug close, fingers wrapped around the colorful ceramic. It’s Lusa’s, the one he keeps, the one that has the terrible cat pun on it.

“I’m sorry,” he says, quiet and gazing down.

“Come on, I wasn’t looking for an apology. I’m not angry at you, okay?”

“Uh-uh,” Esper nods, staring into the moving surface of his tea like it holds the secrets to the universe. He plays with the teabag absently, yanking at the damp string.

“I wanna… talk to you about it again, but not now,” Lusa says. His voice is soft, as gentle as he can make it. “For now, I bet we’re both tired.”

“Yeah.”

“Esper…” Lusa hesitates. Gathering all his courage to ask this, he goes ahead with it, but not until a few tense moments pass. “Would you consider sleeping with me tonight? In my room, I mean— I know, it sounds weird, but I’d just like to make sure you’re here, y’know?”

“Okay,” Esper nods, but Lusa frowns.

“You don’t have to say yes. If you don’t want to, nothing will happen. I won’t get angry.”

“No. No, it’s okay. More than okay— I’d… like to not be alone, actually,” Esper explains, a quiet confession like a giant secret no one was supposed to find out.

Lusa opens his arms and waits for Esper to put his tea away before he hugs him again. The lankier man reciprocates, squeezing Lusa with all his strength.

“Today was… long,” Lusa says as he pulls away, “I promise you everything will be alright. So let’s sleep on it, okay?”

Esper hums, nodding with a small, crooked smile. He can’t wait to sleep, really; is sure he’d pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow. Now that the adrenaline is gone from his system, his limbs feel like lead and head pounds with a headache from all the crying.

They take their teas and sip them slowly, savoring the sweetened taste. Esper makes the best tea, Lusa had decided. And the best food. And the best desserts.

He has the nicest laugh. He’s so funny. He gets scared by horror movies too easily. He gets that wrinkle between his brows when he concentrates too much. He’s skilled with anything he picks up almost immediately.

He’s family. Lusa can’t imagine life without him anymore, just like he can’t imagine life without Arc.

Esper drags himself more than walks up the stairs and Lusa can see just how badly this has affected him. Not that he couldn’t before, but with the storm — hopefully — behind them, it’s time to see what hasn’t gotten flooded. Esper hesitates in the doorway of Lusa’s room until Lusa motions him inside.

It’s okay, he repeats. To himself, to Esper. To the both of them.

They collapse onto the bed, teas forgotten on the bedside table. It should be weird, sharing such a small bed with two of them, but it isn’t. Lusa’s arms come to wind around Esper, to keep him close, almost unconsciously, and Esper kicks away the blanket so they’re not overheating. They’re still wearing their clothes — or, at least Esper is, Lusa had just thrown a shirt on to go along with his sleeping sweatpants. That should also be weird. Possibly uncomfortable. But Esper doesn’t even peep.

Just as he’d predicted, the sweet embrace of sleep takes him into its hold just as easily as  Lusa does, and he snuggles up to both.