Once the boys reached the car, Charlie started to calm down, his tiny lungs taking in more oxygen, his read eyes drying.
Zayn strapped his son in rather harshly, his temper getting to him. He was flustered, to say the least while he growled at Charlie to stop squirming. “Oww-Dadda.” He said softly while Zayn pushed against his chest. “Zayn you’re hurting him,” Harry pushed his husbands hands away, which flew straight for Zayn’s face, covering his eyes that now spilled tears out of them.
“Zaynie? Why are you crying?” Harry asked, fixing Charlie’s straps. “It’s nothing Charming.” He insisted as he climbed into the driver’s seat, Harry sitting in the back with his overly upset son. “Zaynie, why's Charlie sad?” He wondered, holding onto the tiny little hand.
“Because someone was really mean to him at school today, Hazz.” He said, stopping at a red light. “But why does Charlie have to go to school? School is bad.” He crossed his arms, huffing and puffing while he squinted his eyes together.
He was mad at Zayn. Why did they make Charlie go to school? Everyone was mean to him at school. They ignored him and treated him like a little kid. And Harry was not a little kid. Neither was Charlie. They were already mean to him. Why else would he cry like that?
“School isn’t bad Hazz, he needs to learn how to socialize. Don’t you want Charlie to have friends?” Zayn said as he drove again, making his way off the main highway and down the road in which took them to their neighborhood. “Still don’t like it.” Harry shot back, looking over at his son who was fast asleep, small snores leaving his pink lips.
“I know Charming…” Zayn sighed, stopping the car in their driveway. “Baby, why don’t you head inside, Okay?” Zayn asked of him, not even looking back at his husband, who unbuckled there son and brought him into the house where Liam would surly still be waiting.
Not before pressing a kiss to Zayn’s mouth of course, which Zayn could still feel lingering for a moment as he watched the door close, finally breaking down, his head slamming against the steering wheel as he cried.
He cried his heart out, running his dark hands through his tussled hair, letting out a steam of ugly, chocked up sobs out.
“W-Why me?” He cried, his head tilting back so he gazed at the roof, as in talking to someone in the highest of all places.
He cried some more, resisting the two words over and over again. He said them, not because he wished his boys weren’t the way they were because in all honesty, it only made him love the two bundles of joy more.
Intern, he referred to the suffering they had gone through, and still had to go through. What was to come of his precious, wonderful baby boy? What challenges would he face and what could Zayn do to prevent them?
Of course, he couldn’t exactly do anything…Charlie would someday have to become his own person, but Zayn didn’t want that. He wanted to keep him safe in his arms forever, and never let his helpless mind wonder too far off places.
He wanted him to be innocent forever, never to experience the horrors of this world the way Harry had because in a way, it made Harry darker. Not that he had a bad side, but he wasn’t so innocent, he didn’t have that innocents in his brown eyes. Yes, there were still many, many things he didn’t understand, but…He knew pain and that, that was something Zayn never wanted for Charlie.
“Stop crying,” He told himself again, his lips curling and letting a cry ghost past them once more before he dried his tears, gazing at himself in the mirror in his visor, making sure he was presentable before making his way to the house.
“Charming?” He called; eyes darting around the room, Liam drying his hands as he returned from the Kitchen. “Is my present needed here anymore? If not, I have a date to attend to.” He laughed, checking his phone. “No, you can go. Thanks Li.”
“Any time!” The man retorted as he exited through the front door.
“Charming, where are you?” he asked again, a bit softer as he headed up the stairs.
“Zaynie,” Harry’s tiny voice came from behind him, the brown eyed boy staring with dark eyes. “Did you put Charlie down for a nap?” He nodded, wrapping his arms around Zayn’s neck, smirking oh so prominently. “We’re all alone,” He giggled, attaching his lips to Zayn’s. “N-No Charming, he could wake up.” Zayn moaned into Harry’s hot mouth, pinning him to the wall.
Although his mind said no—no, screamed it, his body betrayed him as he lifted the boy into his arms, kissing him hard, hands roaming familiar canvas of skin, feeling the bumps of scars left by his own, sharp teeth.
“Ahh,” Harry groaned, pushing his hips into Zayn’s. “Harry, we shouldn’t be doing this.” The darker let out a sneaky laugh, trailing down Harry’s neck where he left yet another bite, marking over the previous scars from years of abuse.
Small noises came from their son’s room, little feet pitter-pattering down the hall. “Shit,” Zayn dropped Harry to his feet, starting up the stairs again and meeting his son at the corner. “Hey there buddy, w-what are you doing up? Shouldn’t you be taking a nap?"
The little boy shook his head, moving past his father and taking the steps one by one, his other dad waiting where he took Charlie’s hand and walked to the couch.
Zayn gulped hard. Charlie never ignored him? Zayn was always the little boys favorite dadda, always clinging to him, wrapping him in ‘big hugs' and peppering him in tiny kisses and simple ‘missed you’s’.
Zayn was always his favorite so why the sudden Change?
“Hey….So, what do you guys want for dinner?” Zayn offered, taking the stairs to the bottom floor, prancing into the kitchen and digging through the freezer were he found the boys favorite meal. Chicken nuggets.
“Look what I’ve got,” He said in a high pitched, teasing like voice, wiggling the bag of dinosaur shaped chicken pieces to the boys sitting on the couch, mostly Charlie.
“Nuggets!” He cheered, racing from the couch, over to his dadda and jumping at him, his bright blue eyes shining as he held his arms out.
There was Zayn little man. “I’ll make these if you tell me what tommy said today?” He made a deal with the young boy, setting him on the kitchen counter as he put the nuggets on a plate, popping them in the microwave.
“He…” Charlie sniffled, playing with his hands. “He said I’m a retard.” Charlie said, looking up at his dadda. “Is daddy a retard too? Is that why no one likes us?” Charlie cried.
Zayn shook his head, wrapping his arms around the little boy. “No baby, no, you aren’t a retard. People just like to hurt your feelings. Please, don’t ever think that about yourself. You’re not retarded.” He ensured, rocking the little boy back and forth, his legs wrapped around Zayn, his head rested on his shoulder. “You like us, right dadda?”
Zayn smiled, nodding his head and pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. “I love you both so much, don’t ever think I don’t like you. Why else would I have married your daddy, huh?”
Charlie excepted his words, sighing in content and returning his attention to the nuggets in the microwave which dinged, setting off both of the autistic boys senses, Harry bouncing into the kitchen, ready to munch on the Chicken nuggets and whatever food Zayn prepared with it.
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