#momas

OKAY OKAY Y’ALL. Let me get all countrified to tell you this. I decided for no reason except because its fucking awesome that the Sanders Sides community needs a Rent AU. I posed the idea to my besties @romantichopelessly and @sunshineandteddybears and we got to work. 

Unfortunately, the problem was gonna be casting it because all of the sides fit multiple characters really well but in fitting the pieces of this musical au puzzle, there was always one piece that just didn’t fit right. An hour later, Lora finally is like this person as this person and this one as this. And it all clicked into place. 

Here is the line up: 

Roger — Patton

Mark — Virgil

Mimi — Thomas

Maureen — Roman

Joanne — Logan

Collins — Deceit

Angel — Remus

Benny — Remy

[Bonus, Emile was the old lady who paid Angel and Nate is a set of quadruplets who were hired as waiters for Maureen and Joanne’s wedding. Roman flirts with them and Logan calls him out. LARRY AND DOT AS ROMAN'S PARENTS WHO KEEP TRYING TO GET HIM AND VIRGIL BACK TOGETHER. ]

Now that myself, Lora, and Jen have brought this brilliant new AU to you all, it is now the duty of the fanders to take this and RUN WITH IT. 

Run like the wind, Bullseye! 

Fanartists, fanfiction writers, mood boarders, graphic editors, candlestick makers (obviously the last one is a joke but hey, if you candlestick makers think you can create with this, by all means). Point is this...

smoking, playing chess, talking about vads

"looking to the dashing captain to tell them where everything is"

"I'll be sure to tell them"

"you're not dashing. I'm dashing"

😂😂😂 Luv Tom. Luv my idiot horny son Miles.

Tom: You're jealous (because you haven't got one)

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.

They hadn’t really been talking lately. It was a lot of things - Tom thought it was about him and Kitty, but really that had only been the catalyst for Miles to start thinking about how nothing he wanted could ever be. They had dwindled down to just, ‘Good morning,’ ‘Good night,’ and the most necessary interactions if they were performing surgery together.

Tom hated it, but he thought that was how Miles preferred it, and he wasn’t about to make overtures towards a reconciliation, or bloody apologise when he’d done nothing wrong. So when he entered their tent that evening to see Miles just...sitting on his bed, staring into space, looking tired and sad, it stopped Tom short.

“What’s wrong with you?” he said, too abruptly.

Miles just shrugged and turned away.

Tom shrugged in return, hunching his shoulders protectively. “Fine, don’t tell me.”

Miles sniffed and cleared his throat. “It’s just. It’s my birthday. I wasn’t sure if you’d forgotten or if you just didn’t say anything because we aren’t talking.”

Tom froze halfway to his typewriter. Shit. He had completely forgotten. “No, I- I just forgot,” he stammered, feeling bad.

“Oh,” said Miles. “Alright. It’s just, nobody else remembered, or knew, and I haven’t got anything from anyone at home either, must be stuck in the post.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“No,” said Tom. “It does, Miles. I’m sorry.” He felt the tension of the past few weeks, thick in the air, felt them both holding their breath. “Happy birthday,” he added. The tension dissipated, to a point.

“Thanks,” said Miles, managing a smile. “Want to get drunk?”