#mitmas

One interpretation of how Tom discovers Miles’s feelings for him, as well as his own for Miles. @breefraser @thecurlymop @thebicanary @meriida (if any of y’all still care about this show/pairing lol. apart from @breefraser because they’re like all we talk about)

They are drunk, sitting on the ground between their beds in the tent.

It's the first time they've spent time together since Miles found out about Tom and Kitty. Tom has been avoiding him, spending more and more time with Kitty, and Miles has been tending to his wounded pride, and they've both been...on edge around each other.

This is better, though, this is normal - getting drunk together on Tom's whisky, for once, on a rare night where neither of them are on shift but Kitty is. Miles doesn't kid himself that Tom is with him for any other reason than that Kitty is busy, but...it's enough, for now.

It's when the bottle is getting towards empty that Miles sways forward, examining Tom's face from far too close up. Tom just smiles, content as only a Scot drunk on whisky can be.

"What're you doin', Miles?" he says, slurring his speech.

Miles grins. "Just looking at you," he says, happily. "You're so...beautiful." And then, Miles doesn't know what possesses him to do it, but he leans forward just a touch more, and presses his lips to Tom's. Tom reels back in shock, and Miles ends up on the floor.

"Miles, what-" says Tom, and Miles thinks he might just stay there, on the floor of the tent, for the rest of his life, a decision that is cemented further when he rolls over and sees the shock and apparent disgust on his best friend's face. He turns his face back to the floor and groans into it.

"Oh Christ I've really done it this time haven't I," he moans into the canvas. They stay like that for a good few minutes, Tom frozen and Miles pressed into the ground, eyes closed, praying Tom will just leave him and go to bed so he can pretend to go and play golf and drown in his own tears.

Tom doesn't, which is probably what makes him Miles’ best friend. Instead, in a very careful, gentle voice (strange, it's not the one he uses with his patients; Miles has never heard that voice before), Tom says "Come on, Miles, you need to go to bed."

Miles vaguely agrees, but he doesn't see why he can't just sleep here. He mumbles something to that effect, but Tom must either not hear him, or be ignoring him, for he grabs Miles under his arms and tries to pull him up.

It's only then that Miles makes an effort to pull himself up, if only so Tom doesn't have to touch him for longer than necessary. He flops onto his bed, feeling bile rise in his throat that has little to do with the alcohol he's drunk.

Tom keeps casting furtive glances at him, but Miles ignores him and buries his head in his pillow, so he doesn't see Tom give him a look that is equal parts calculating, affectionate and vulnerable. He simply clamps his eyes shut against the tears that threaten and prays that Tom will have forgotten this by the morning, or at least will put it down to his less-than-sober state.

Tom, for his part, sighs and climbs into bed, but doesn't drift off for a long time after Miles starts snoring.

He is up before the dawn, in search of Kitty.

"You need to talk to him," she says, as soon as he tells her, in a rather garbled and, frankly, panicked fashion, what had happened.

"But what do I say?" Tom almost shouts in despair. Kitty gives him a quelling look, and he gestures his arms apologetically.

"Well, how do you feel about it?" asks Kitty, diplomatically, trying to calm Tom down.

"I don't know!" says Tom in exasperation. "I had never even considered Miles might...feel that way about me before tonight."

"Really?" asks Kitty, raising an eyebrow.

Tom looks defensive. "I'm not even sure if he does, or if it was just...Miles, being Miles, and drunk."

"All right," says Kitty, suppressing a sigh at the apparent obliviousness of the man she loved. "But if he does...would it damage your friendship irreparably?"

Tom looks horrified, which Kitty takes as a good sign. "N-no, of course not," he stammers, faltering under Kitty's stern gaze. "Unless he felt like it had to. He's my best friend!"

"Are you?" says Kitty, looking unimpressed. "Because lately you've barely been giving him the time of day."

"So has he- you know why that is- that's not the point!" says Tom, frustrated.

"So what is the point, Tom?" Kitty said, hands on her hips. She was being a little cruel now, but honestly.

"He kissed me!" Tom exclaimed.

Kitty nodded, took his hand very gently between hers. "And how do you feel about that?"

"Confused!" says Tom. "All this time I thought he was annoyed because, well, because I got you, and he didn't..." He trails off as Kitty narrows her eyes at him. "What I mean to say," he begins again sheepishly, "is that you chose me, not him, and I thought he was in love with you, in fact, I'm still not convinced that he's not, but-"

"But he's in love with you too," finished Kitty, and Tom's eyes widen.

"Do you really think so?" asks Tom.

Kitty nods, gentle but firm. It's obvious to her, has been for a long while - Miles flirts with Tom like he does with her although she supposes it was easy for Tom to take as teasing, and lately he's been much more withdrawn, quieter, and yet, for the most part he's fine with her. It's obvious, really, if her idiot love had the eyes to see.

"Yes," she says finally. "But I don't think you should talk about this to me any longer. It's not fair on him. You need to talk to Miles."

"But what do I say?" Tom says, eyes widening with terror at the very thought.

"What do you feel?" Kitty counters, infuriatingly calm.

"I don't know!" Tom exclaimed! "I've never thought about it! I've never thought about him that way."

"But you're not...against it?" Kitty suggests tentatively.

Tom looks hurt. "I'm with you," he says, wounded.

"I know," says Kitty, placating. "But I happen to believe that a person can be in love with more than one person at the same time."

"Hm," says Tom, not refuting or agreeing, just thinking. "In love is a bit strong, isn't it?"

"For me, or for him?" asks Kitty cheekily, eyes sparkling.

"Never mind," says Tom. "I should talk to him."

"Yes, you should," says Kitty.

"Oh fuck, I have to actually talk to him," moans Tom, mostly to himself.

oh my god i wrote the whole playlist out then accidentally closed the tab and lost it, luckily i’m pretty sure i remembered most of it but ahhhh!! these are a bunch of songs that either are super poly/queer (without meaning to be probs - Take A Chance On Us is always my go-to polyamory song lmao) or just avoid pronouns/numbers too much and feel mitmas-y and cute! This is a very cute playlist mostly and I’m happy with it!

Hope you enjoy pal!

- Take A Chance On Us by Scouting For Girls

- Glorious You by Frank Turner

- A Heady Tale by The Fratellis

- Somebody Told Me by The Killers

- With Love by Elbow

- I Love by Athlete

- Stay The Night by James Blunt

- Mr Jones by Counting Crows

- I Want You Now by The Feeling

"Well, I'll leave you two to it," said Miles. "Good night."

"Night," said Kitty, as he headed off to his bedroom. Tom just about managed a smile.

Half an hour of Kitty trying to get to sleep and Tom tossing and turning fretfully beside her later, Kitty sat up.

"Go to him, then," she said to Tom, frustrated, but only with his apparent indecision. "Or bring him in here. You know I don't mind."

Tom sat up, shook his head. "It's not that," he said quietly.

"What is it, then?"

"What if-" Tom stopped, biting his lip. "What if he decides he doesn't want this anymore? Doesn't want us? What if he gets sick of being the third wheel all the time, of never being acknowledged as part of us by the outside world? What if he wants a normal life, with a wife and a family?"

Kitty smiled gently, taking her husband's hand. "Tom, that man worships the ground you walk on. He can barely stand to be apart from you more than a moment. He's probably in bed right now, wishing you were there."

Tom smiled a little at that, and Kitty could probably tell he wanted to be there too. But he wanted to be with Kitty as well. "Yes, but - what if?"

Kitty shrugged. "Then we'll just have to respect that, and deal with it as it comes."

Tom nodded, but he still seemed to be squirming uncomfortably. It was an oddly endearing trait, one that reminded her of Sylvie when she had been caught doing something she shouldn't.

"Shouldn't you be talking to Miles about this, anyway?"

Tom nodded, knotting his hands together and resting his chin on his knuckles. "I'm just terrified of the answer he'll give."

Kitty patted him on the back. "I know," she said soothingly. "But isn't it better to bring it up and talk about it now, rather than let it fester and make you paranoid that he's going to leave?"

Tom smiled ruefully up at Kitty. "You're right," he said. "You're right." He stood up.

"Right now?" she said.

"Well, you said it's best to sort it now. Didn't you?"

"Yes I suppose you're right," she said. "Good luck," she added as he left the room.

"Miles," Tom hissed, not bothering to knock as he opened the door and stepped into Miles's room.

"Christ, Tom, don't you knock?" said Miles, mock reprovingly. "I could have had a girl in here!"

When Tom did not laugh at his joke and in fact became even more stony-faced, Miles sat up, turning on the bedside lamp.

"Tom, what is it?" he said seriously.

Tom faltered, moving from foot to foot. "It's just-" he signed and moved forward to the bed, to be more comfortable at least. Miles scooted over to make room for him and Tom got under the covers gratefully. Miles immediately wrapped an arm around him and began to cuddle. "I'm worried," he said, feeling a bit stupid now Miles was being so obviously affectionate, but determined to get his point across anyway.

"I can tell that," mumbled Miles into his chest. "What about?"

"That you'll get sick of us." Miles looked up in shock, opening his mouth to speak, but Tom cut him off. "Of not being seen as officially part of the relationship. I'm scared that you'll want that, want a wife and children of your own, your own family."

"But you are my family!" said Miles, a bit too loudly. "And we agreed, we always agreed, if Kitty is ever allowed to see or raise Sylvie, or if she has any more children, we'd raise them together. Or does that not still stand?"

"Of course it does!" said Tom vehemently. "But...you won't be acknowledged as father to any children. Does that not bother you?"

"Not legally, perhaps. But you'll acknowledge me, you and Kitty, and that's all that really matters."

"It could make things complicated..."

"We /are/ complicated! /I/ am complicated, certainly according to societal convention. But I'm /happy/ and I certainly don't want to change anything, not unless you or Kitty do! What does Kitty think of this, by the by?"

Tom was smiling a little now. "She said I should talk to you about it. But I get the feeling that she thinks I'm being ridiculous."

"Only a bit, old chap," said Miles, petting his hair affectionately. "But honestly, you're far more likely to get sick of me than I ever am of you."

Tom freed himself from Miles's grasp, mock-offended. "I could never get sick of you," he said, tapping Miles's nose teasingly.

Miles's features softened. "Prove it," he said, the grin on his face showing he was joking, mostly.

Tom kissed him then, with intent, and drew back. Miles followed his lips, wanting more, but Tom put a finger on them. "All right, I will," he said, more to himself than Miles. "Miles Hesketh Thorne," he said, "will you marry me?"

"What?" said Miles, looking delightedly confused. "But you're already married to Kitty!"

"Well, it won't be official," said Tom. "But we'll know. And God will know too." Miles was looking at him intently, drinking in him and this moment and every detail of Tom's face during it. Tom swallowed. "So, will you?"

Miles paused just a fraction of a second longer, making sure he'd heard correctly and wasn't dreaming, or imagining things, before he answered. "Yes!" he said, taking Tom's hand and kissing the ring finger. "Of course I'll marry you, Thomas Gillan. And Kitty too, if she's amenable, of course."

"I am," came Kitty's voice from outside, and she slunk into the room. "Although I would have appreciated being informed beforehand," she said, but there was a smile on her face.

"Sorry," said Tom vaguely, unable to tear his face away from Miles's face. "It was kind of a spur of the moment decision." He leaned forward, spellbound, and kissed Miles firmly on the lips. Miles closed his eyes, just focusing on the sensation of Tom's lips (oh, and tongue) on his.

"I can see that," said Kitty, smiling indulgently. Tom finally broke away from Miles in order to shove him over and let her into bed.

"I didn't even get a ring!" said Miles, perturbed.

"We'll get you a ring, darling," she said, kissing his forehead, then Tom's. "Don't you worry."

"Before that, though," said Tom, grinning like a loon between the two loves of his life, "we're going to need a bigger bed."

“You did all of this for me?”

It has been a hellish day, in a hellish week, in a hellish month, in a hellish year. Miles is usually the first to offer a cheery word of encouragement and positivity when someone else is sad or upset or moody, he prides himself on the ability to get a smile out of anyone. But today his face is like thunder, and he cannot bring himself to hide it any longer.

It’s the war, he tells himself. All these dead and dying men, the horror stories, the inability to save them all, to put their hearts and minds and bodies back together - it would wear on anyone after a while, old chap. You’re owed a few grumpy days.

He knows this isn’t the entire truth, though. Well, the part about being owed a few grumpy days is, he thinks wryly. But it’s not just the war. It’s-it’s them.

He cannot even think their names together without pain, and that is the problem, Miles thinks. If only they would let him in, would even consider it, but he cannot imagine even asking them, bringing it up - especially not with Tom. How can they offer it if they don’t know what he wants? But the fear, the fear not just of rejection, but of how they would look at him, in hate and disgust and even fear, themselves - that was what makes it impossible. And without it, he will never be happy.

Well, perhaps he is being melodramatic, but it certainly feels that way at the moment.

He ducks under the flap of the tent he shares with Tom, and sighs when he sees the other man sitting at his typewriter. He flops down at his bed.

Tom looks up from whatever he’s typing, frowns over at him. “What’s wrong with you today?”

Miles just groans into the bedclothes, choosing not to answer, rather than to snap at his best friend and make his mood even worse.

He does not hear Tom come over, but suddenly he feels a hand on his back. He curls into a ball, away from him, barely able to stand the friendly touch. God, but he is pathetic. He realises he is crying, and that is the last humiliation he can stand to take today. He resolves never to get up again.

“Miles?” Tom asks softly. “Are you crying?”

Miles just gives him the finger. He hears Tom chuckle, and just buries himself deeper into the bedclothes. Well, fuck him.

“Miles,” says Tom. “Me and Kitty have something planned.” Miles’s heart rejects the words, but his ears prick up - Tom’s voice sounds strange; it has a quality he’s never heard in it before. “Will you come with me?”

Miles uncurls himself and looks at Tom, wiping away the tears from his face. “Where?” he asks in a small suspicious voice.

Tom almost laughs again, and then stops himself. “The beach.”

Miles considers it, then nods. “All right, then,” he says, and gets up.

Tom nods in return, but says nothing, just leading the way out of the tent.

Kitty is waiting for them, curled up by a rock on the beach, wrapped in a blanket. It is mid-October, and although it is not freezing yet, it is windy, and not exactly warm.

“Miles!” says Kitty happily, as she sees them coming towards her. Miles cheers up almost immediately - Kitty has that effect on him. She lays the blanket down on the sand and makes a space for both of them.

“What’s this?” asks Miles, already in a much better mood than before. “Are we having a picnic?”

Kitty laughs, and Tom shakes his head fondly.

“We needed to talk to you,” he says, “and we didn’t want to be overheard.”

He looks at Kitty awkwardly, as if he doesn’t know how to carry on.

Miles furrows his brow. “What is it? It’s- it’s not Elliott, is it?” he says in an undertone, as if saying the man’s name out loud will summon him to the beach with them.

Kitty shudders. “God, no.” Then she smiles. “It’s something much more pleasant than that. At least,” she exchanges a glance with Tom, “we hope so.”

Tom reaches for Kitty’s hand, as if for reassurance, and then - he reaches for Miles.

Miles’s brain short-circuits.

“W-what?” he stammers. Tom immediately takes his hand away, looking alarmed, but Miles snatches it back unthinkingly, and then, realising what he’s done, blushes. Tom holds it tight, so Miles can’t change his mind and let go. He is looking at Miles hand, focusing on it, probably so he doesn’t have to look at Miles, Miles thinks.

Kitty is smiling, nearly grinning. “We noticed,” she starts, when it becomes clear that both Tom and Miles have become temporarily speechless, “that you- hadn’t exactly been happy, the past few months.” She takes Miles’s hand, and Miles is surprised how reassuring he finds it, when she strokes her thumb up and down his. “You were...happy for us, or you tried to be. But it was clear you weren’t exactly...happy. You’ve been looking...tired, and Tom says you haven’t been sleeping properly, and you’ve been avoiding us.”

“What is this, have a go at Miles day?” he asks, but he is smiling very slightly, because he thinks he knows what’s coming.

“Tom thought it was because you were in love with me,” she says, completely casually. Miles cannot look at either of them. “I said, perhaps that’s true but...I had noticed what Tom hadn’t. The way you flirted with me...it was exactly the same as the way you flirted with Tom.” Tension hangs in the air, the question there, the accusation, the possibility, and all of them seem to be holding their breath.

Miles looks at Tom’s hand, still in his, and breaks the silence. “Yes,” he says, looking into Tom’s eyes. “Yes.” He looks at Kitty, and she is smiling at him, serene. He starts to smile, and Tom tackles him to the ground in a hug. “You did all this for me?” he says, gesturing at the picnic blanket and wondering how the two of them had had the courage.

“You idiot,” Tom says, and his voice is full of unbridled emotion, so often levelled in anger and frustration, now in overflowing love and affection, and Miles cannot believe it’s aimed at him. “How long?”