Notes: Big thank you to Java1 and AkatsukiOfNight!
The wooden floorboards creaked under Atreus' gentle footsteps as he made his way to his father's bedside. He waited for the Ghost of Sparta to answer, smiling in the darkness as soon as the god, however grudgingly, complied.
Their bond had strengthened considerably after their long and difficult journey to Jötunheim. Atreus was proud of his father's efforts to be more openly affectionate. He curled up beside his father's solid frame, wrapping his arm around him and resting his head on his chest.
His eyes shut as he listened to his father's soothing heartbeat - strong and steady under his ear. The rhythm was reassuring. He sighed happily as Kratos' fingers combed, hesitantly at first, through his short chestnut hair. Atreus soaked up the slightest bit of affection from his father.
He loved him. He needed it.
His father undoubtedly did it to try and coax him to sleep. But in truth, all it did was keep Atreus awake and make his stomach flutter.
"You should sleep in your own bed, boy."
His father's quiet and gruff words startled Atreus out of the peaceful trance he'd put him in. He tightened his slender arm around his father's bare chest. He thought Kratos enjoyed sharing a bed. He thought they were making progress.
"Why?" Atreus murmured, not fond of the idea. "I want to stay here with you."
His body warmth made the cold nights of Fimbulwinter more bearable. The boy heard and felt his father's deep sigh, reverberating against his smaller frame.
"Atreus…" his father started, making the boy's anger flare. He rolled over, turning his back to his father and curling up in ball. He knew he didn't have a say in the matter, despite how badly he wanted to stay. Atreus frowned as he listened to the howling wind outside, refusing to move.
He suddenly sat up and looked down at his father, his face illuminated by the silver moonlight spilling in through the closed window. His father's eyes were on him in an instant.
"I'll go…" Atreus began, "But only if you kiss me."
He watched his father's expression carefully, seeing his eyes narrow dangerously.
"A goodnight kiss," Atreus added quickly, feeling his heartbeat quicken. His love and admiration for his father was endless. He wished the man was more understanding.
"No."
Atreus was swift to question, "Why not? Mother used to—"
"You are too old for that, boy." His voice was flat, and cold.
"But if Mother was here she'd still—"
"A mother's love is different." His father cut in, "She would have coddled you until the end of days."
Atreus looked down, fidgeting with the edge of the oversize tunic he wore to bed. "You kissed Mother goodnight," he mumbled, feeling something in his heart twinge. He was only young at the time, but he remembered.
The mattress shifted as his father sat upright, running his hand over his exasperated face. It didn't take Mimir's genius mind to grasp he desired the conversation to end. "That is different, boy."
Atreus frowned, trying to understand. "How?"
"It was between your mother and I," Kratos answered, his voice edging on harsh, but his increasing irritation did not discourage Atreus.
"But Mother always said you kiss the people you love. I kissed her, she kissed me- you kissed Mother…" he trailed off, furrowing his brow. He cherished the sweet kisses his mother gave him before bed, or when he accidentally skinned his knee on a hunt. "Sometimes I feel like…" Atreus continued, sadness bubbling in his chest. "You don't love me very much," he finished quietly.
His heart sank when Kratos refused to meet his gaze. It was frustrating and tear jerking all at once. The boy moved to leave the bed, fed up with his father's cold demeanor.
His father's voice broke through the silence though, stopping Atreus in his tracks.
"You needn't worry about the amount of love I have for you."
Atreus huffed out a dry laugh, feeling tears well in his tears.
"Is that supposed to comfort me?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly, "Father—"
"You are too young, Atreus," the man interrupted. His words only succeeded in confusing Atreus more. The boy couldn't suppress the frustrated groan that left his mouth.
"What're you saying?"
"I am saying you are too young for any other kind," his father explained sharply, tension visible in his broad shoulders. His deep voice was diminishing in patience.
Atreus rubbed his irritated eyes as silence stretched between them once more.
"Well…" the boy started quietly, "When will I be old enough?"
"I do not know." His father answered with a furrowed brow.
It felt as if they were constantly taking one step forward and two steps back in Atreus' eyes.
"But won't I always be…" he tried to find the right words, "Your… Boy?"
His father's eyes fell on him then, his jaw tightening before he answered, "Yes."
Relief washed over Atreus like a warm wave at that one word – yes.
"So… technically I'll never be too young or too old for a goodnight kiss," he knew he was pushing his luck, but he could not help it.
Kratos' answering sigh was a heavy one. He seemed tired of the conversation.
"I will not repeat myself, boy."
"I can't even kiss you?" Atreus pressed.
It was just a kiss…
"How is that any different?"
The boy pouted, "… I dunno," he mumbled, wondering why his father was so concerned. "If you let me kiss you goodnight, I'll sleep in my own bed," his sky blue eyes sparkled up at his father. "You have my word," he promised.
His father said nothing, and for a moment Atreus thought he was being ignored.
"Fine, boy. Make it quick." His father grumbled, his voice low.
Atreus' eyes widened in surprise, unsure if he heard him correctly.
"I can kiss you?" he asked once more. His voice hushed as if they were telling secrets.
His father grunted, and the boy smiled softly. He leaned across his father's lap, placing his tattooed hand on the man's muscular thigh to support himself. His other was flat on his father's chest, over his beating heart. The strong, steady rhythm present under the palm of his hand.
His father turned his head slightly. His eyes closed, waiting.
Atreus pressed a gentle kiss to his father's cheek, surprised by how soft his father's beard felt against his face. Nothing changed, except for the rhythm of the man's heartbeat. Atreus felt it quicken at the brush of his lips. The boy pulled back, intrigued.
"Father?" he whispered.
"What?"
"Are you okay?"
His father opened his eyes and scowled. "I am fine, boy," he mumbled, "Now go- I gave you your kiss."
Something inside Atreus wasn't satisfied though. He swallowed, moving into his father's lap cautiously, as if any sudden movements would trigger his father's senses.
He could see the man watching him carefully – a hint of curiosity in his eyes. Atreus settled in Kratos' lap, both hands on his bare chest. His father gathered the bedsheets in his hands, clenching tightly.
Atreus hesitated, his knees digging into the mattress. For a moment there was nothing but the soft sound of their breathing between each other. He slid his hand up his father's smooth chest, touching his beard and jaw, tracing the bridge of his nose gently. His breath caught in his throat, mesmerized by his father's strong features. He applied the smallest amount of pressure on his jaw, wanting his father turn his head and look at him.
The boy kept his other hand firmly over his father's heart, leaning in, daring to kiss the corner of his mouth – as sweet and gentle as the first. Atreus felt a spark, an eternal flame in his heart.
He loved his father completely.
Kratos stayed perfectly still.
Atreus cupped his father's face in one hand, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone as he leaned in for another. This time on his lips. His fingers trembled as he carefully kissed his father, feeling his heart beat rapidly under his hand. Atreus opened his mouth ever so slightly, pressing his wet tongue against Kratos' lower lip timidly.
He gasped as his father seized his arms roughly, pulling him back.
"What are you doing?!" he sounded furious, shocked.
Panic struck the boy instantly as his father's fingers dug into his thin arms painfully. His heart thudded in his chest wildly. He couldn't breathe. "F-Father!" he forced out. "I'm so s-sorry! Sorry!" he wheezed, hanging his head, hiding his face in his hands, trembling. He could only imagine his father's steely cold gaze upon him.
"Atreus…"
The boy flinched, but his father's voice was gentle, almost uncertain now.
"I am not angry, boy."
The grip on his upper arms loosened, "Breathe."
Atreus tried to take a deep breath, wrapping his fingers around his father's wrists instinctively.
"I am not angry," his father repeated.
The boy squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm his racing heart and breathe.
He felt his father's strong arms circle him, pulling him closer. Atreus pressed his ear to the man's chest once more, listening his father's heartbeat. The rhythm was quicker than normal, but forever comforting.
Atreus sighed softly, gradually able to breathe again.
The cabin was quiet for several more minutes as his father held him in his arms. The boy wondered what the man was thinking.
He whimpered softly when his father pulled away, cupping his small face in his hands.
Kratos' hardened thumb was rough against his skin as he stroked his cheek gently. "Now– go to bed, Atreus. I will not tell you again."
The boy frowned, not wanting to leave. "Please…" he whispered, his feelings were hard to grasp. Tears of frustration threatened to make themselves known. "I want to stay," the request was soft, pleading.
He felt a huff of hot air blow over his face, realizing in that moment how close they were in the dark.
"Father?"
No answer.
He leaned up, accidentally bumping the tip of his nose against Kratos'. "Please," he whispered again, not entirely sure what he was asking for anymore. His hands slid up his father's large arms, over his bludging biceps. The strength his father possessed. Atreus' heart skipped a beat every time he thought of that power lying dormant under his gentle caresses. Even when Kratos scolded him, gripped his arm hard enough to hurt – it was merely a slither of his strength. He never left a bruise on him, no matter how angry he appeared to be.
Before Atreus knew what he was doing, his lips found his father's again, somewhat clumsily in the dark. He pressed his body against his father's solid frame, snaking his narrow arms around his neck. Atreus' mind swirled hazily, as if he was in a dream, his heart beating faster when his father slowly began returning the kiss.
Blunt nails scratched lightly over his scalp as Kratos cupped the back of his head. The moment his father took control of the kiss was everything to him. He had never felt such absolute love, his face heating up at the press of his father's tongue on his lips.
The boy opened his mouth readily, trembling the second their tongues gingerly met. What his father did with his tongue made the boy's toes curl. He writhed, inadvertently nudging a hard heat against his thigh. His father responded by biting his lip gently, making warmth coil in Atreus' lower stomach.
The boy pulled back and opened his eyes, startled, but laughing breathlessly.
"You bit me," he whispered, panting softly as he looked up at his father. The Ghost of Sparta was full of surprises, really.
Atreus liked it.
He shifted in his father's lap, causing a soft hiss to escape Kratos. His father picked him up, effortlessly moving him off his lap. The overwhelming happiness was suddenly replaced with concern.
"Father?" he tried to meet his father's eyes, but he would not look at him.
"Go to bed, Atreus." His voice sounded strained, tight.
The boy shook his head quickly, "No, no– please," he begged softly. "Please let me stay."
Atreus wanted his father to talk to him. Confide in him. Love him.
"It would be unwise, boy."
"Why?"
No answer.
He furrowed his brow, worried. "Father?"
"Atreus…" Kratos closed his eyes. "Please."
The boy could not grasp the emotion in the man's voice. He sounded almost fearful. Unhappy?
"Father…" he reached out to touch his shoulder tentatively.
"Atreus!" His father's sudden shout caused the boy to shrink back. But he remained on the bed, waiting for the man to calm. He knew better than anyone else what it was like. The struggle to control his emotional outbursts.
He got it from his father after all.
Atreus kept his hands in his lap, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip.
He hoped his father was okay. He didn't seem okay.
His father's head was down, as if ashamed. "…Atreus," the man sounded so… Broken.
Atreus' heart ached so badly.
"Father," he whispered, sitting on his heels. "I'm sorry if I upset you…"
His father shook his head slowly, but the boy was unsure if he was answering him.
He put his hand on his father's cheek, turning his head gently so he would look at him. "It's okay," Atreus promised quietly, looking into his father's dark, expressive eyes. He saw so much pain in them, wishing he could take it away.
They were father and son – flesh and blood. They could overcome any obstacle in their path. He placed his hand over Kratos' heart.
"Whatever worries you…"
Atreus pressed lightly on his chest, silently instructing his father to lie down. His father did so, allowing Atreus to curl up beside him once more. The boy rested his head on Kratos' chest, his hand remaining over his heart.
"We'll deal with it… Together."
That was a promise he intended to keep. He didn't want to leave his father's side.
He smiled softly when his father's arm wrapped around him. Protected. Loved.
"Goodnight," he whispered in the dark. "I love you."