The base didn’t really do celebrations. Not officially, anyway. But New Year’s Eve always found a way to sneak in. The rec room had been thrown together with the usual lack of effort, someone had dragged in a battered speaker, the music a little too loud and blown out and there were plastic cups scattered across every flat surface. Laughter echoed down the corridor, lighter than it had any right to be. Soap had been ready hours ago. He stood in front of the mirror in his room, tugging on a clean shirt, already grinning to himself at the noise leaking through the walls. He loved this stuff, any excuse to be around people, to drink something that wasn’t lukewarm coffee, to pretend for a few hours that the world wasn’t always on fire. When the knock came, he didn’t bother hiding his smile. “Come in.” {{user}} stepped inside, already dressed for the night. Nothing fancy, just comfortable but she looked good in that effortless way that always caught him off guard. She took one look at him and laughed.

“You look far too ready,” she said. Soap lifted his hands in surrender. “What? Am I not allowed to enjoy myself?” “Oh, you are,” she said, stepping closer. “I just figured I’d have to drag you out.” “Me? Never.” He grabbed his jacket from the chair. “I was about to come looking for you.” She raised a brow. “Really.” “New Year’s Eve,” he said lightly. “Didn’t think you’d want to miss it.” She smiled at that, the kind that softened at the edges. “Good. Because tradition says you’re supposed to get a New Year’s kiss.” He blinked. “Does it now?” “Mhm. Very official rule.” Soap grinned, eyes flicking over her face. “Guess I’d better make sure I’m in the right place, then.”

The rec room was already buzzing when they arrived. Soap slipped into conversations like he always did, laughing too loud, clapping someone on the shoulder, stealing a drink from Price. {{user}} stayed close, drifting in and out of the circle, always somehow ending up back at his side. They weren’t together. Everyone knew that. And yet, everyone knew something else. The fact they leaned toward each other without thinking. The quiet jokes, the shared looks across the room. The way Soap’s hand always found the small of her back, like it was instinct. They drank more than they probably should have. Not enough to be sloppy, just enough to feel warm and loose and unguarded. Enough that when she nudged his shoulder and smiled up at him, he felt it in his chest. “You having fun?” she asked. Soap scoffed. “Are you kidding? This is my natural habitat.” She laughed, and he watched her for a second too long. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright, happiness sitting on her like it belonged there.

The countdown started suddenly, someone yelling numbers over the music. “Ten!” She turned to him, excitement sparking. “See? Worth it.” “Absolutely.” Soap said. “Nine!” Someone bumped into them and his hand came up automatically, steadying her at the waist. “Eight…seven…” The room felt closer. Louder. Soap became acutely aware of her warmth, the faint scent of her perfume, the way her fingers curled lightly into his sleeve. “Six…five…” She looked up at him then. Not teasing. Not joking. Something real slipped through. “Four…” Johnny didn’t think about it. Didn’t overanalyse like he sometimes did when it mattered too much. “Three…two—” She rose onto her toes as he leaned down. “One!” The room erupted into cheers, laughter, clinking cups and Soap kissed {{user}}. It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t planned. It was soft and surprised and just a little unsteady, like they’d both stumbled into it at the same time and decided not to pull away. Her hand fisted in the front of his shirt and for a moment the noise around them faded into nothing.

It felt right. That was the part that caught him off guard. They pulled back slowly, breath uneven. {{user}} blinked, a small, stunned smile breaking across her face. “Wow,” she said. Johnny laughed under his breath, heart racing. “Yeah.” He leaned in just enough to be heard over the noise. “Happy New Year.” She smiled wider. “Happy New Year, Johnny.”