#lpde

esper takes the glass and refills it from the bottle that had, magically, returned to three-quarters full in the middle of the night. he says nothing, just reaches over and runs a hand through lusa's hair. it's wild, from his hands tugging at it, from laying on his arm, from everything.

"sometimes i wonder if it's worth it. like, more than usual," lusa slurs, muffled in the crook of his elbow when he finally notices esper isn't handing him the glass yet.

"hm?"

"life," lusa says, as if that explained it. he's a little too drunk to actually make any sense, or keep on one topic for more than five minutes worth of attention span, but the worst part is esper knows what he means. "it's like a cycle of bullshit over and over."

"mmhm."

"but."

lusa falls silent, eyeing him like someone would an expensive trinket in the window of a shop they felt the pull to buy on first glance. there's something soft in the edges of his eyes, in the creases of his small squint. the lights are probably too bright for him by now.

"but?" esper prompts, nudging lusa's elbow with his. he contemplates using the glass as a bribe, or maybe leaning over and tasting the whiskey from the other's tongue.

"but then i see you." lusa's eyes take on a glint, something soft and homey, and it feels, for a split second, as though he's looking through esper, right at his heart or spirit or whatever the hell inhabits his dumb shell of a body, and can't contain his pure adoration. "and i think, fuck-- fuck, i--"

lusa sways, his chair leg scraping painfully against the floor. esper reaches out, yanks him by his unbuttoned sleeve, and helps him regain his stability.

"you're drunk as a skunk," he says.

lusa nods. "maybe so. but i gotta say this, dude. listen to me."

so esper does. but he takes the glass sitting between them and pours it down his own throat. it doesn't sting as bad as it would have without the brake. he reaches behind himself to lay the bottle onto the counter, as far away as his arm lets him.

"i look at you and, fuck, it's like the world's like. good."

"you're just gay," esper remarks. he tries not smiling at his own joke, or blush at lusa's words, but it seems he's failing both, and very spectacularly at that.

"fuck yeah i am. but it's true, it's like you just, i dunno."

"we should get you into bed."

"drunk sex? kinky."

"you're too drunk even for that. shut up."

"i love you."

"yes, yes, now come on."

"es, listen--" and there's something in the tone that makes esper pause, midway through leaning over to pull lusa up and haul him to bed to sleep his drunkenness off. "i… i know i'm drunk. but i still mean it, i do love you."

"and i love you, you big, drunk oaf," esper laughs. he leans down, thinks twice about it and then presses a kiss to lusa's forehead. the smell of alcohol is heavy between them, spreads in the whole kitchen, so maybe it's a good idea to leave and go to an untainted room.

it's a little too much to hope to get lusa in the shower at this point.

"you just gonna wallow?" esper asks, one corner of his lips tugging up unconsciously. "or you gonna get a glass of water for your morning hangover now?"

"you're always so fucking forthright. it's creepy."

"that's my middle name."

"no, it's not. your middle name is edward."

"no, it's definitely creepy. esper creepy grenore. there's also a 'fucking' in there somewhere."

"fuck you."

"maybe when you're sober, okay?"

"mm, 'm gonna sleep it off," lusa says.

he only sways a little when he gets up. esper trusts him not to kill himself on the way to the bedroom, but he still flits behind him and pulls out a pair or pajamas that lusa immediately knocks out of his hands. instead, he clamors into the bed after shucking his sweats and shirt, and esper sighs. he'll wake up cold.

"haven't you forgotten something?"

lusa looks sideways at him, misty eyes and falling eyelids. "hm?"

"you were supposed to prepare water for the morning."

lusa groans and turns over, burying his face into the pillow. his back moves along with his slowed breathing and esper sighs. there's a smile on his lips.

he grabs a glass from the bathroom, the one they usually use for brushing their teeth, and runs the tap. it's not like lusa will be able to tell in the morning anyway.

and maybe he'll even leave meds on the bedside table.

and maybe, just maybe, he'll tell lusa he loves him just as much. when he's not drunk. when he's sure lusa will absolutely remember it.

well, maybe. who knows what the morning will bring.

(he knows. it will be hours of lusa complaining about his hangover. maybe some placating kisses. all good things.)

“Sorry, just wanted to talk to you alone for a moment,” Lusa explains, closing the door with a soft click. Esper sits up, curious.

“Alone? About what?” he inquires, patting a spot next to himself on the bed.

Lusa takes the invitation and seats himself next to the slighter man, thinking of how to properly word himself.

“Well, I was just thinking about yesterday, and I just wanted to apologize… I realized I didn’t,” he says finally, but it only seems to make Esper even more confused (and nervous, so Lusa hurries to elaborate). “Well, when the kids were over, they kept calling you Arc’s new dad and all and I just wanted to apologize on their behalf. They don’t know better, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m goading you into a relationship or something.”

Esper finally blinks, getting what Lusa means. He giggles. “Don’t apologize for that. I can see why they would think that. Plus I do a lot of ‘dad’ stuff, huh…?”

“You don’t have to, I told you before, you’re not here like a maid.”

Esper’s fingers twiddle with the comforter. “I know. I don’t mind doing them. But, I’m glad for yesterday. It was really nice to… finally talk about it. That sounds strange, doesn’t it?”

“Not at all.”

“But… I’ve been doing some thinking myself, actually. I don’t want to be a leech anymore… My leg’s healed, but I… don’t really have a place to go. Um…”

“No one’s sending you away, Es. You can stay!” Lusa hurries to remind him, but Esper just smiles, one corner of his mouth twisting further up than the other.

“You’re too nice, I know. But I don’t want to be a freeloader anymore.”

“You’re anything but—”

“Arme said you might need help at the shop, and I feel it’d only be fair if I paid you some of the rent.”

This catches Lusa completely off-guard, and it shows in his face, even if the proposition makes him immensely happy. “Are you sure you wanna do that though?” he can’t help but ask.

“Yeah!” Esper says instantly, brows set together in a determined expression. “I mean, if you wouldn’t mind me staying here.”

Lusa snorts. “I already told you I don’t. People’s opinions don’t change that easily. Actually, I’m really happy you want to stay.”

“Why?” Esper looks at him like he had just said something stupid. That look is familiar, but he knows Esper doesn’t mean any harm with it.

“Well, I dunno if you noticed, but you’re really cool. And you can make a mean stew. But you’re mostly cool. The stew is just a bonus.”

“Is that your way of saying you want stew for lunch tomorrow?” Esper snorts, lifting a hand and lighting pounding Lusa’s shoulder. Lusa laughs; Esper pulls it back like he’d been burned, but he doesn’t apologize. Lusa is proud of him.

“Maybe… But hey, building furniture is pretty hard. And heavy. So we can start with something small on Monday, how about it? Though I guarantee you, in a few months you’ll be strong enough to lift me.”

“Is that a promise or an offer?”

Lusa’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “Well, if you can lift me, you have full permission to!”

Esper’s face twists into a cute pout and he pushes the sleeves of his night shirt back. One hand slips under Lusa’s thigh, the other cups his back. And he heaves.

And he fails.

Lusa stays firmly seated on the soft mattress, no matter how hard Esper tries. In fact, he slips and falls forward, sprawling over Lusa’s thighs.

They both laugh heartily, even though Lusa’s cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Give it a few months,” he chuckles.

Esper picks himself up, sitting back. There’s a wide smile on his face, genuine and happy. All of a sudden, Lusa is glad he had come to talk, even if he’d been scared to.

“Hey, how about some cocoa before bed? Arc is already asleep so we can drink as much of it as we want to.”

“You’re a really selfish dad,” Esper laughs, “You’re having bad influence on me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m here for!”

“You hungry? There’s some leftovers in the fridge,” Esper asks, to which Lusa just shakes his head, not even looking up from the video on his tablet. “Well, suit yourself.”

Esper shrugs and stands up to grab some for himself, at least. His plush slippers drag over the carpet languidly, the fridge opening before him so he can take a moment to find the bowl of rice and meat that Lusa had to put on the top shelf thanks to all the yoghurts Arc insisted they buy for him.

Esper grabs it and closes the fridge with his hip, other hand now occupied with a carton of milk for his coffee. Lusa’s too.

He doesn’t catch himself humming a soft, familiar melody as he put the bowl into the microwave and sets water into the kettle, but it fills the kitchen nonetheless.

At least until the microwave beeps and he pulls the bowl out, burning his fingers on the hot edge and letting go of it on instinct. It clatters against the counter and then down onto the floor, rice exploding all over. Sauce flies everywhere; it’s on the floor, on the side of the sounder and even all over Esper’s shirt.

For a long and silent moment it doesn’t register in Esper’s mind. And then the ringing in his ears that he only just notices, is exchanged for an almost worried “What happened, Esper?” from the living room. Except it doesn’t sound as it should (or worse, maybe it does), the voice is deeper, louder, obviously colored by distaste and anger.

Esper stares down at the floor with wide, yet unseeing eyes, blood suddenly thumping in his ears, louder than even the voice. So it should make no sense for him to be able to hear the soft steps coming closer — angry, fast, stompy, he’s really angry today and Esper curls up on himself almost on reflex, his brain immediately supplying a dozen apologies and self-berations that he’ll rat out to try and stave off (or lessen, if his lucky star shines bright today) the inevitable pain.

“Esper!” he calls from the doorway — Esper can’t look at him, he’s angry, looking up at him would amount to talking back and he does not want any more punishment than he’ll be dished when he does everything properly. “Esper,” is repeated and that’s bad, that’s real bad, he hates repeating himself, and Esper’s uttering out, ‘I’m sorry, it’s my fault, I’ll clean it up, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,’ as fast as his seemingly-numbed tongue allows him to.

His whole body shivers, scrunched up to hide his gangly form into something smaller, less of a target. The floor is spinning in his vision and it’s blurry at the corners, too. Esper can’t figure out why.

He quite literally jumps as he feels a touch on his shoulder, backing into the nearest wall to support himself. He’s sure he’d fall without it, and yet his knees still wobble like fresh jello.

His name is repeated and then followed by more talking, but Esper’s mind seems to slip further away and all he hears is an echo from far away.

He ends up curling by the wall, squeezing his knees close to his chest. His teeth are chattering in his mouth.

Someone is…

Touching him.

He wants to back away, but there’s nowhere to, he’s cornered himself and there’s nowhere to escape anymore.

The touch is gone.

His eyes open wide, blinking forward to see what’s going on. He’s greeted with Lusa’s face, a small, strained smile on his lips.

“Lusa?” Esper tries — he sounds so raspy, his throat is parched.

“Hey,” Lusa replies, at last some of the worry creasing his brow dissipating. “How are you feeling?”

Esper’s gaze lowers again. He bites at his lip. “I— What happened?”

“Beats me,” Lusa shrugs. His hands twitch where they rest on his knee, obviously wanting to touch and hug Esper, but he’s not going to do any of that if there’s a chance of Esper not liking it. “I heard a crash and when I asked you what’s up, you were already… yeah.”

Esper’s eyes go wide. “That’s right…! The food. I’m so sorry, I’ll clean it up, I— I didn’t wanna drop it! I’m terrible, but please please don’t be mad at me!”

Lusa shakes his head vehemently. “Nah, I’ll clean it up. You’re gonna get some food and a nice cup of that good hot cocoa and wind down. You look terrible.”

“But—”

“Esper, no buts, please? It’s okay, it’s just some rice, it’s not a big deal to clean it up. Hey, can I touch you?”

“Yes,” Esper replies immediately. It makes Lusa’s eyes narrow, but not in an angry way.

“You sure? Not just saying that to please me?”

Esper averts his eyes, cheeks flushing with shame. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Would it be fine if I helped you up and maybe wrapped you in a blanket?” Lusa asks again, patiently.

Esper has the distinct thought deep inside that he doesn’t deserve such kindness. “Yeah,” he answers again, because Lusa offered and he can’t think of anything better than making sure Lusa is real and here and this isn’t all just another fabricated dream he’ll wake up from. “Um…”

“Yeah?” Lusa hums, pulling him up by the hand, gently, slowly, making sure he wouldn’t fall down.

Esper swallows heavily, mustering up the courage to keep pushing his luck further and further. “Could I… get a hug? Please? I mean, if you don’t want to that’s fine, I just… sorry.”

“Come here, Es,” Lusa coos, pulling the other close so he can hug him into his chest.

Esper melts into the embrace, shoulders sagging. He feels completely drained and the tears that roll down his cheeks are silent. Lusa holds him gently until he shifts back. Esper’s eyes are rimmed with red and cheeks puffy. Lusa smiles despite himself, a soft, sad upturn of lips.

“Go eat, okay? I’ll be right there. Maybe take a nap, too?” he proposes, and Esper nods numbly.

Lusa heats up another portion for him and even grabs the blanket he promised to drape over the other before cleaning up the mess. He wasn’t lying; it only takes a few minutes of sweeping before the floor is alright again (and before Lusa gets too anxious anyhow).

Esper idly watches some soap opera on the TV, shoving spoonfuls of the food into his mouth with one hand and holding the blanket up with the other.

“How’re you feeling?” Lusa asks, settling down onto the couch as well.

Esper glances at him for a second only before looking away, brows drawing together. “Awful,” he says quietly, “Maybe like I’m gonna puke.”

“Don’t push yourself,” Lusa replies, tone empathic, a little relieved when Esper places the plate and spoon onto the coffee table. “Is there anything you’d like? Anything you think would help you? At all?”

Esper stares through the TVm ignorant to the arguing characters; Lusa turns it down anyhow. “Maybe…” Esper mutters something under his breath, too silent for Lusa to make out.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said… maybe… one more hug?” Esper mumbles again, hiding his face in the fold of the blanket.

Lusa can’t help but snort soundlessly through his nose, scooting closer to the other. “As many as you’d like,” he declares, wrapping an arm around Esper. He waits to see any discomfort, and when he doesn’t, he pulls him closer to lean onto a shoulder. Esper nests himself there, spreading the blanket over them both.

“I’m sorry,” Esper says, “about before. I mean…”

“It’s not your fault. I’m not angry at you.”

“You really aren’t?”

“Really really.”

They fall into silence, but then Esper asks, “How are you so good at this? It almost feels like you’re just saying whatever will calm me down.”

Lusa’s brows crease just a little and he holds Esper just a fraction tighter, still conscious. “I mean every word, I hope you can believe it. Maybe not now, but in the future. I know what used to calm me down before.”

“Were you like this?”

“Yeah,” Lusa nods.

“So there is hope for me too…? I want to be normal, too.”

“You are normal, Es, I swear. And you’re already doing better than before. Look, we talked it out, didn’t we?”

“Just because you know how to.”

“That’s what it’s about. Now you know, too.”

“I can’t do anything like that… It’s… it’s weird when it happens, I feel like I’m somewhere else… back home.”

“But reminding you helps, right?”

“Yeah, I guess. You’re too nice to me, Lusa.”

“We went over this. The right amount of nice.”

Esper snorts, almost nuzzling his cheek into Lusa’s shoulder. “The rightestest, then.”

Lusa bursts into mirthful laughter. “Arc has bad influence on you.”

Espe chuckles softly, “Everyone has bad influence on me, apparently.”

"Don't stuff the whole toast into your mouth," Lusa chastises as Arc tries to do just that, failing miserably and getting butter all over his face.

Esper laughs and reaches for a napkin to wipe it off for him. Arc doesn't wait a second to take another bite, grumbling, "I'll manage it someday," as he does.

"Come on, finish it or we'll be late."

"It doesn't matter, dad! The teachers don't care even if we come in the middle of drawing," Arc huffs and Lusa, in turn, flicks him on the forehead.

"Well, they might not mind, but I have to open shop, because if I don't open it, we won't have money and you won't even be able to have toast. Would you like that? Plus I thought you liked the drawing part of the day?" Lusa asks, smiling lopsidedly as Arc shovels the food down faster. "Hey now, make sure to chew and not choke. I don't want you to hurt yourself, that'd be much worse than being late."

"Uh-uh," Arc nods, chewing and swallowing carefully.

"Well," Lusa turns to Esper, with his bowl of cereal, "How are ya feeling? Ready to do some assembling?"

"Yeah!" Esper replies immediately. He swallows another mouthful of over-sweetened, ground-up wheat and smiles warmly. He's not just ready, he's obviously excited.

Part of the excitement is due to work -- he hasn't worked in an actual job, just the housework for father. but Lusa had gone through all the basics with him yesterday. They'd even gone and set up a bank account for him, and Lusa said he'd be paid monthly. Esper insisted on paying rent, so Lusa agreed on taking a hundred, 'and not a cent more'. Well, it'd been at least something, so Esper took it.

They finally finish their breakfast and Esper puts the dishes into the sink, rinsing them and only having a tiny crisis about not having enough time to clean them.

Lusa goads Arc into the car, tossing him his bag with a roll of his eyes when he forgets it in the kitchen. Esper follows, seating himself in the passenger seat and strapping himself in. Mostly because Arc only ever follows the example if they all do it first, Lusa gets in last after making sure to lock the house. They drop off Arc at the kindergarten and then they drive to Lusa’s shop, with half an hour to spare before opening time.

Esper trails after Lusa, who goes straight to the back. Esper lags by a row of carved furniture and intricate trinkets sat in a multitude of shelves.

“You made all these?” he asks curiously, stopping for a moment to ogle a small jewelry box with carved vines snaking around the edges.

“E-yup!” Lusa calls, voice half muffled.

Esper catches up, going through the door labeled ‘storage’. And storage it is, with planks stacked high and towers of boxes, labeled in chicken scrawl reaching almost to the ceiling in some spots.

“That’s amazing… All of them are so pretty…”

“Well, I got pretty good at carving over the years,” Lusa laughs, picking up one of the planks from the stack like it weighs nothing. He carries it out of the storage into the main room, where he sets it down next to the counter with a small thud. There’s a saw machine behind the counter — scratch that, there’s a whole woodwork station there. “Anyway, I  don’t know how familiar you are with assembling furniture, so I’ll run you through it. You won’t have to do any of the heavy stuff or carrying wood or anything… Just, like, screwing stuff together or painting it, or running the register, that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll do anything you put me to,” Esper grins. If he would’ve realized he’s not scared of Lusa ordering him around, he would’ve felt proud of himself.

“Okay, let’s start with a simple box then. Like the ones over there,” Lusa says and points over at the group of jewelry boxes sitting on display. Esper nods. “Forget the plank, that's for a shelf later. But first, we gotta get out of these clothes. I don’t actually know if I have a work shirt that’ll fit you…”

Lusa disappears into the back room again and Esper learns there’s a bathroom and a small kitchen area when he pops his head in to see what’s going on. Lusa had exchanged his t-shirt for a purple one, bearing the wear-and-tear of a woodworker, but nothing too obvious. Lusa might be a bit disorganized something, but he’s a cleanly person (sans his floors, but that’s another story and another carpet to vacuum cereal out of. Esper will never admit he was the one who spilled it at three am).

“Here, try it on? It’s the smallest I’ve got here,” Lusa says, passing the very same-looking shirt over to the other. The tag reads M, a leftover from when one of the college kids from the town over helped out Lusa over the summer last year.

Esper slinks his way to the bathroom and switches the shirts. It’s not as bad as it could be; the shirt is loose on him, but nowhere near as loose as Lusa’s actual clothes would be.

Lusa gives him an appreciative once-over when he pops out again. “I could get you a size smaller if you’d like, but it’ll take at least a week to ship. It’ll probably be too short for you, though…”

“Not, this one’s fine, Lusa,” Esper reassures him. He had actually come to appreciate loose clothing over the past month or so.

“Alright, now that’s we’re suited up, how’s about we go and tackle that box, hm?”

The box turns out okay… Actually, it turns out great, because Lusa guides Esper through it, holding the small pieces in place while he figures out how much force to push the power drill with.

It had only taken a little bit, barely half an hour at most, and Lusa took the box to start carving into the dark wood with his little whittles. Esper watches with enrapturement as small motifs come to life beneath Lusa’s fingers, tiny whittlings falling onto the floor. The whole shop feels like a well-oiled machine. Esper is busied with a plethora of diagrams and instructional manuals on different things.

In no time at all, he manages to assemble a fair few things; a few more boxes, a small cupboard, a shelf and a birdhouse.

They don’t look anywhere close to the masterpieces Lusa had created and meticulously spread all around the shop, but then again, they haven’t been lacquered nor polished, or even carved with intricate embellishments.

A few people stop by over the day and Lusa sounds overly excited as he explains who Esper is when they ask. He’s also very pleased when Esper asks about the customers in return, saying that ‘this is the only shop like this in miles!’ People come from all around to order handmade furniture and buy trinkets, or even bring they battered pieces for repair and refurbishment. Some people even collect his trinkets, like the boxes, that’s why there’s so many designs.

No way in hell could Esper have imagined that Lusa is this skilled or known, but it certainly doesn’t come as a surprise after getting to know him.

He’s just about finished with that shelf Lusa took the very first plank out for when Lusa stands up from his seat, back popping as he stretches languidly, almost like a cat awaking from slumber.

“It’s almost time, Es,” he says, pulling Esper’s attention. “Time to close shop. That shelf looks great, we’ll paint it tomorrow. For now, let’s just sweep and put all the leftover wood into that box over there,” he points to the sturdy box full of scrap wood in the back. “You did tremendously for your first day. Kinda don’t believe you’ve never done this before, to be completely honest.”

“I—” Esper tries to say something, but he fails, face flushing an admittedly cute (at least in Lusa’s humble opinion) shade of pink at the praise.

“I thought we could get some ice cream on the way home. To celebrate or whatever?”

“Oh, that— That sounds lovely!” Esper smiles softly.

“There’s this great ice cream stand a few blocks down, you’ll love it! Let’s pick up Arc and go there.”

“Yeah! Now, where is the broom? I’ll sweep the floors.”

“Nah, I’ve got it.”

“‘Nah’, I’m faster. And I really want the ice cream as soon as possible,” Esper pouts.

Lusa laughs in reply. “You got me. I’ll clean up the wood then,” he says, grabbing the broom to hand to Esper with a matching smile.

It truly is a blessing to have Esper here.

“Arc, it’s already past bedtime,” Esper grumbles, standing in the doorway. “Turn the TV off and go to your room.”

“But, Eeeeeesper,” the boy whines, holding up one of his fairytale books. ”I want a story! And I can’t ready, so can you read it for me?”

“Arc,” Esper scoffs, “Do I look like I know how to read?”

Arc pouts, but he does spring up. Only not to go to his bed, unfortunately. “Then I’ll just ask dad!”

“Does he looks like someone who can read?”

Rambunctious laughter spills from the kitchen, Lusa doubling over the table to clutch at his stomach as he laughs uncontrollably.

“But you’re adults! All adults know how to read! You’ve read to me before!” Arc protests, puffy and huffy as he thrusts the book up at Esper as if that would make him change his mind.

“We forgot last night. It’s a terrible curse that happens when someone wants us adults to read too much.” Esper tries his best to maintain a straight face while Lusa wheezes for breath.

Arc blinks and then almost bursts into tears. “That’s horrible! I’m sorry!”

Esper leans down and pats his head, ruffling his hair. “It’s okay, it always passes, so we can read you stories later.”

Arc sniffles and nods tearily. “Uh-uh! Promise!”

“I promise, Arc. Now, go to bed or you’ll be tired tomorrow.”

Arc nods again and presses a kiss to Esper’s cheek, which Esper returns with a smile. “Goodnight, do your best to remember!”

Arc’s footsteps pitter-patter upstair, leaving Esper to finally crack and burst out with laughter. “Oh my god!”

“I can’t believe you did that,” Lusa mutters, rubbing a hand over his face to wipe the tears. “And I can’t believe it worked!”

“Oh man, I felt so bad midway,” Esper groans. His (and Lusa’s, too) shoulders are still shaking. “I had to get out of it somehow.”

“You damn well did, holy fuck…”

“You’re not mad I bamboozled your kid?”

“Absolutely not, spares me having to read that story about a cat in a glove yet again. Plus it was fucking hilarious.”

Esper grins, fishing for his phone. He finds the right email and turns it around to show Lusa. “Anyway, I wanted to show you this!”

Lusa squints at the screen. It seems to be an email from the bank about a money transfer. The recipient’s account number looks so familiar, he knows for sure it’s his. “Hey, don’t you know I can’t read?”

Esper dissolves into more cackles and the phone finds its way to the edge of the table. “You’re right, how could I forget. But I just wanted to show you. I’m really happy about it—I’m not a freeloader anymore!”

“You never were,” Lusa comments immediately. “But I’m proud of you. You did a great job over the month.”

Esper grins, stretching and heading into the living room. Lusa follows suit, plopping down onto the couch while Esper runs through the channels to find their favorite show.

It was the weekend, so it wouldn’t hurt to sleep in, he thought to himself.  Today was supposed to be a day to catch up on his research and process the data he collected last week.  He was sure he could afford a few more minutes of sleep before having to get up.  Body wrapped around in a thick quilt, his hair rested against the bed’s headframe with his blanket up to his face and his feet sticking out.

Despite intentions to clamp his eyes shut, his eyelashes fluttered and he felt the sun glaring down on him through the curtains.  Who opened the curtains?  Was it Esper?  Psyker sat up to hazily glance outside the window to see the calming landscape of Velder’s outskirts.  With his weekday routine of waking up before sunrise, it was foreign to see the morning fog gone with only the wet grass to indicate that it was not quite noon.  So when he saw white smoke coming down the hallway, Psyker charged to the kitchen to inhale the smell of burning food. 

Sitting on the counter was a cake freshly taken out of the oven with burnt edges burnt but the rest of it was a golden brown color.  Tilting his head to the side and peeking inside the oven was Esper, who had a pink apron tied around his waist and was fanning it with his eyes back at the cake as if to make sure it wouldn’t run away.  What was he looking at?

Walking over to where the cake was, it didn’t look as bad as it smelled.  Must have been the oven, Psyker thought.  After all, that oven was hotter than it was supposed to be, so working with it was tedious, one of the reasons why he didn’t enjoy baking like Mastermind or Esper.  He poked the burnt edges and pulled his finger back, shaking his hand and blowing it with urgency.  The burnt crust was hot!

“Esper?”  Psyker walked over to see what was occupying the time traveler’s attention to not even realize he was there when he walked in.  “You all right?  What happened?”

Bending his head down, he glanced inside the oven to see what was occupying Esper like that.  Luckily, this oven had a light, so he didn’t have to squint to make out that there was a thick layer of jam dripping through the tray with burnt crumbs sitting underneath.

Esper clicked his teeth in disapproval, “Looks like I left it in there too long.”

Turning his head back to the cake, Psyker realized that the cake was transferred to a casserole dish because he saw the cake sitting in a puddle of red jam and the cake pan was sitting in the sink.

“Did you see any sleep last night?” Psyker commented and went over to the sink to turn on the facet, adding soap to the dirty dishes.  It was odd to see Esper up so early when it was still early morning.

Esper rubbed his eyes but said, “Mmm, a little.”  Did no one in this house remember to sleep?  Esper closed the oven and went to attend the cake with a butter knife and a bowl of frosting he prepared just before Psyker appeared.

Psyker asked, “You’re not making another one?”

“Nah, this will do,” he waved it off and laughed, “It’s not burnt if you cut off the burnt parts and cover it in enough frosting~”

Esper was not a bad cook.  In fact, out of the three of them, Esper was probably the best cook with an arsenal of recipes from places he has never heard of and a strange knack for throwing in unconventional spices and ingredients.  Something told Psyker that Esper would have covered the cake in a thick layer of frosting regardless if it was burnt or not.

He squirted a few blots of red food coloring into the frosting and started mixing it until it turned into a light shade of pink not too different from the pale flowers blooming in the backyard.  With his free hand, Esper reached for the drawer to pull out a knife and handed it to Psyker.

“If you want some of this cake, you’ll have to help me,” he cackled.

Psyker pretended to scowl, but a smile threatened to make its way across his face, “Is that all I’ll be doing?”

Esper perked up, “You get to decorate the cake too!”

A chuckle slipped past Psyker’s lips as he covered his mouth, but he didn’t argue when Esper placed the bowl between them so they could both reach it when needed.  Thanks to Esper, the cake was already stacked into two layers, so there was no need for him to get his hands too dirty.  He scooped the frosting onto the cake before spreading it with his knife until the top was covered, smoothing it out and creating waves on it.

“You don’t eat cake for breakfast,”Psyker said with a deadpan expression.

“No one will stop you from eating cake for breakfast,” Esper chirped back.

“How do you want this to look?”  He waved the butter knife in the air at the direction of the cake, but froze when he felt something cold slap against his bare skin and turned to see Esper spreading frosting on his forearm.

A bowl of fruit sitting close to his forearm caught his attention.  Psyker picked up a strawberry, where it was cut into layers to resemble a flower.  Did Esper do that?  The rest of the strawberries were uncut, so he took his knife to emulate the first one.

“You can eat the rest if we have extras,” Esper brought a strawberry to Psyker’s mouth and offered it to him.  “That counts as breakfast, right?”

Lusa opened his mouth to take a bite out of the strawberry, surprised how sweet it was.  When Esper wasn’t looking, he grabbed another to pop into his mouth.   

“You know, we could always eat the cake now and skip the decorating,” Psyker said.

“Now you sound like Mastermind,” Esper laughed.  “But it’s fun making it pretty too.”  He lowered his head to the level of the cake to make sure it everything was covered.

“I guess so,” Psyker smiled.

They went through the rest of the strawberries and carved shallow cuts into them until they looked like the first one, layered like flower petals to place them on top of the cake and spread the cut leaves to resemble roses.  More were placed around the cake itself while Esper grabbed a handful of blueberries to scatter on top and around the cake.

“So what’s the special occasion?” Psyker asked when they finished.

“Do you need reason for cake?  I wanted to add jam like they do with those cakes at the bakery.”  A sly grin peeked between his lips to reveal pointed teeth, “Unless you want something fancier like me coming out of a cake?”

“NO.” Psyker covered his eyes at the image of the time traveling bursting out of a giant strawberry cake, ass sticking out first.  Where was Esper getting these absurd ideas?  Did he steal Mastermind’s magazines again?

“Aw, but that would be fun,” he teased.

Psyker shook his head to rid the image, “Then you’ll complain about washing it off and whine about how sticky it is.”

“Who said I was going to wash it out myself?”

Esper squeaked when Psyker pushed him away and shoved him out of the kitchen with a fuming face.  He giggled when the brawler tried to smack him, dodging it by opening a portal to pop out the opposite side of the room with a shit eating grin.

“You want the cake or not?” Esper went over to the kitchen cabinet to grab two plates for them, snickering when he saw Psyker grumble and cross his arms as he cut out a big slice with a knife.  The cake crumbled in half, but he nudged the pieces together to meet with the frosting still intact and gave it to Psyker.       

With a fork, Psyker poked the cake with hesitation and looked back at Esper to see the time traveler waving at him.  They made the cake, so it wasn’t like it was dangerous if he knew what was in the cake.  He cut a tiny corner of the cake with some frosting and lifted his fork to get to taste when Esper hugged him from behind, making him jump from his spot from sudden contact.  Psyker whined when his face landed on the cake with the fork flying out of his hand.

“You missed a spot.” He laughed when Psyker pulled his face out of the cake to clean the frosting off with a napkin and glared.  Esper leaned over to wipe off a smear from the brawler’s cheek and licked it off his finger.

“What are you doing?” Psyker panicked when Esper decided to go further and attempted to lean in to lick more frosting off his cheek.

“What?  You want a taste?”  Esper taunted.

Psyker didn’t have time to answer because whatever comeback he had in mind was swallowed by Esper when arms wrapped around his waist and pulled into a kiss.  He gasped at the sweet taste of strawberry and jam lingering from the tip of Esper’s tongue, struggling to keep his mind clear.

“So, how is it?” Esper drawled.

Psyker fumbled to answer, but the red coloration on his cheeks was all the indication Esper needed.