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"Japan's surrendered," Major Winters says. "We're going home."
The silence in the moment after he says it is only matched in intensity in the cheer a second after. They're out in the open, on the top of the hill, and that should diffuse the noise, but it doesn't.
It's a joyous fucking cacophony as the boys whoop and holler and jump on each other, and all Carwood can think is to get to Ron. Get to Ron.
Get. To. Ron.
Who is only a few dozen yards away, but all the boys want to hug Carwood and slap him on the back, and George fucking lifts him off the ground in a hug.
"In a second, in a second," Carwood says, though he does muss George's hair before George drops him back on his feet. He's a little closer to Ron than he was, and somehow out of the middle of the impromptu puppy pile happening in the midst of all the boys.
Trust George to use a celebration to help Carwood out a little.
He gets to Ron in another few seconds. Ron, who is getting patted on the back by Grant and shaking Liebgott's hand. And that's all well and good, exactly the sort of contact Ron wants with his men.
But the war's over. The war's over. Carwood's not Ron's Lieutenant anymore. Not technically. Not that it stopped them falling in love or stealing kisses or very quietly and cautiously planning a life.
But the war's over, and adrenaline buzzes through Carwood like it did when he watched Ron run across that open stretch of land outside of Foy. Except now he knows this man, and he loves this man, and the war is over.
"Ron," he says, and when Ron looks at him, he's beaming bright as the sun, and Carwood had meant to hug him and steal a quick kiss. The sort of thing they've done before in front of the men. A moment of connection, of love, in the midst of so much more to take care of besides each other.
But Ron is beaming. And the war is over. And the boys are so loud in joy and pure, sweet excitement at surviving at the real, honest chance to go home points or no points.
Carwood grabs Ron by the waist and pulls him in close, kisses him messy and desperate and happy and utterly buzzing with the hope of what's next. Of the life they've only whispered about maybe having someday that can start right this fucking second.
"Get it, Sir!" Grant howls, and a moment later, the noise around them gets even louder. The other boys seeing what's going on and even more joyous to see it.
Carwood pulls away from Ron, ready to apologize for making a show of them. He and Ron are both just generally more private in their affections. It's one of the many reasons they're such a good match.
But Ron's grinning, the edges of his mouth soft while his eyes are sharp. "That the best you got, Lieutenant?" he asks, raising his voice so the boys can hear him.
"Show 'em how the NCOs do it, Sir!" Talbert yells.
Carwood laughs and steps up so he and Ron are chest to chest. "Trust me?" he murmurs, just between him and Ron.
"Always," Ron replies.
"Hold on," Carwood says, and Ron's eyes blaze as bright as his smile when he wraps his arm around Carwood's neck.
They've always understood each other, Carwood thinks. From moment one. They understood each other.
What a goddamn gift to get for saving the world.
Carwood presses his hands into Ron's lower back, and Ron lets Carwood dip him low like a Hollywood starlet.
And the boys, just as Carwood knew they could, get even louder. Ron laughs against his mouth and Carwood swears he can taste it as he kisses him again and again.