Author's Note: This idea hit me like a freight train and I couldn't say no.

Tags include: Canon Era, Post-War, Fluff, Talking, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Wholesome Gay Content.

They've been talking late into the evening when Dick tags along and follows Nix's migration to his bedroom. Nix doesn't think much of it until Dick lies his head down on a pillow, as casual as ever. Then it hits him—Dick Winters, his best friend, is lying here in his bed. His heart beats faster to think of the implications.

"You should go." Nix says. "It's past your bedtime."

Dick shakes his head. "I'm not tired," he argues, eyes betraying him as they droop shut.

"You can't even keep your eyes open."

"I'm just resting them."

"Sure you are," Nix says. He debates lying down parallel to Dick, then gives in, stretching out like a cat. If Dick falls asleep here, well. They've shared a foxhole, haven't they?

Somehow, it doesn't feel the same.

"Did you ever think we'd have this?" Dick asks.

"Have what?"

"Peace," Dick answers. Then, softer, "A home."

Nix frowns. He's never thought of New Jersey as home—nor California, for that matter. When he thinks of home, he thinks of a war. And he knows that's not fair to all the boys who died over there, who had homes and unbroken families to return to. It's not fair to Dick, who wrote home to his family at least once every week.

"No," Nix answers instead. "I didn't think I'd survive."

Dick's brow creases, but he nods. "Well, I'm glad you did. No one else understands, Lew. The boys back in Lancaster County—they all seemed so carefree. They have no idea what we paid in blood over there. I couldn't stand it. I had to leave. I had to come here."

"Jersey's got plenty of 4Fs," Nix says, a little perplexed. "You met my buddies at the Yale club."

"No, Lew, it was you I had to see," Dick says fondly. He reaches a hand forward from where it'd been tucked under his chin and cups Nix's cheek in his palm. Nix feels his face flush hot and he curses his complexion, but Dick's just looking at him with a dopey sort of smile he's never seen before, his eyes crinkling.

"What are you doing?" Nix asks.

"I'm looking at you," Dick answers softly, his thumb stroking Nix's cheek. It sends a thrill down his spine, but he knows he should discourage it.

"I can't be much to look at," Nix demurs. Before he can push Dick's hand away, Dick's leaned in and pressed their lips together. Nix only stays still for a moment before he melts into the kiss, his own desperation for touch shocking him.

Dick breaks away, looking into Nix's eyes. His hand is still on Nix's cheek, and Nix nuzzles into the touch, letting his lips pull up in a cautious smile.

"You're beautiful, Lew," Dick says, and leans in again to drop kisses on Nix's nose, cheeks, and eyelids, seemingly caught up in the tenderness of the moment. Nix had dreamed of this more times than he can count, ever since he'd looked at Dick on the night of June 5th, 1944 and known suddenly that if there was any reason to survive this war, it was to see Dick Winters to the end of it; to see him safe, peaceful, and happy.

"I love you," Lew says, unbidden, and realizes he means it. Love had always felt abstract to him before—just something that people said. But with Dick, he realizes he can feel it; in every word, every touch, every glance they've shared, the feeling pressing against his ribs couldn't have been anything but this.

Dick's lips pull in a dazzling smile. "I love you too, Lew."