Church boy

Part 20

"Then, we were free."

Multi-coloured eyes light up at my words, an unexpected gasp slipping through slightly parted lips. "Really?" He asks, and I hum. "Really." His hips rock with excitement, hands waving in a clear sign of happiness.

"Careful." I scoff, arms wrapping around his pale waist in an attempt to catch the boy. He collapses in my grasp and I pull him back into my lap. "You'll get me told off." I say and he shakes his head.

"We'll pretend dad did it." He whispers, and the words make me laugh. "You're gonna blame your dad when he's not even here?" I ask, and he nods with a proud smile.

"You're definitely my son." I say before the soft click of a door catches his attention.

His eyes go wide, pupils widening and arms pushing against me as he squirms around in an attempt to get off of my lap. Eventually, it works and he jumps away with an excited squeal.

"Dad!" He sings, the word dragging through his thin lips as he runs. "Mils!" The boy freezes, body pausing in front of the now open door. He folds his arms and George rolls his eyes. "Miles!" He corrects, arms reaching out for a hug. Our son beams, body collapsing into his dad's arms.

"Did you have a good day?" He asks, and Miles nods. "Yup, I learnt all about how you and dad met!" George raises a questioning brow, eyes glancing towards me. I wink at the boy and he flushes, eyes moving straight back to the small redhead in front of him.

"And what was that like?" George asks, eyes occasionally glancing towards my sprawled body. "Confusing!" George chuckles at his answer. "Well, we were very confusing kids." He picks up the small boy and walks over to me, sitting down at my side.

"I want to be confusing!" I wheezed out a laugh, lungs burning at the stupid reply. "You're 6, Miles. You're confusing enough." George deadpans, and my mind flows back to all of the times I've caught the redhead locking his toys in different places.

My favourite one was the freezer as the boy had somehow managed to freeze his innocent toy inside of a box of milk. Neither George or I know how he got the milk, or the container the milk was in but it still happened. And I loved it. I took the boy to an ice cream parlour to show my pride while George wasn't as proud.

"Will Nap be back tomorrow?" Miles questions, his mood suddenly shifting into one of sadness. "Probably." George huffs and I wrap my arm around the brunette's shoulders. I pull his body closer to mine and place a soft kiss against his temple.

Miles cheers in George's lap, pushing himself off of the brunette's lap and onto the floor. "How was it?" I ask, and George hums in disapproval. "I cried." He sighs, and I let my thumb brush small shapes into his clothed shoulder.

"Did it help?" I ask, and he pauses before nodding. "Good." He drops his head onto my shoulder and watches as our son pushes his piles of dirt away from his body. "That's what matters." I hum, he grumbles at my words.

"It's your birthday next week." I remind him. "I know." An amused smile creeped its way onto his face. He twists his body to face me and I grin. "You're old." I tease and he rolls his eyes. "You like it." He says and I agree. "Yeah, it's pretty hot." I mumble.

His eyes flutter shut and he leans forward, connecting our lips with a soft push. I kiss back, eyes flickering shut. His hand lands on my thigh and just as George presses his tongue into my mouth Miles throws one of his shoes at us.

"Bad dads!" He yells and George grins against my lips, pulling back to press a quick peck on my lips. I chase after his lips and slouch back in disappointment when George turns his attention away from me.