Work Text:
Trektober2020: Wedding Crashers
Jim’s hand slid from his so he was free to use both to gesticulate wildly in the direction of a ceremony beginning further down the beach.
"Look, a wedding!" he practically vibrated with excitement. "I haven't been to a wedding since…" he rubbed his chin in thought, then laughed, shaking his head. It didn't matter.
Human weddings were a strange affair, Spock considered. Bunches of ribbons and tulle caught up in the breeze off the ocean, tied to an arch decorated with fragrant flowers and delicate, lace-like blooms. Chairs covered in satin sashes were arranged on either side of an aisle that had been scattered with red petals and lined with flickering candles in glass jars. Guests dressed in their finery sat, observing a couple standing together, hands clasped, and staring longingly at each other. Human romanticism often escaped him, but he supposed he could appreciate the aesthetic appeal. In comparison, Vulcan joining ceremonies were strikingly different - less decor and more cultural violence.
He was not sure which he preferred.
Jim reached for Spock's hand again and pulled him across the loose sand towards the event.
"Are you acquainted with either party being married here?" Spock queried, reaching for Jim’s elbow to steady him as his feet nearly slid out from under him in his haste.
Jim’s laugh was unexpected, though not unwelcome. "Of course not!" he said, like that explained everything.
It did not. But, Spock had long ago learned it was better to let his Jim drag him into the illogical as a willing participant and with minimal argument.
They settled into two empty seats. The guests nearby nodded at their arrival, eyes wet with unshed emotionalism, before returning to the front.
The groom looked nervous, his smile wavering with joy and a meagre attempt at restrained emotion. The bride was lovely; her dress flowed around her like liquid, her breast decorated with glittering gemstones that caught in the early evening sunlight. The kiss sealing their union, Spock calculated, was to happen as the sun began to set. Utterly romantic; he frowned, glancing over at Jim who looked absolutely besotted.
How Jim managed to talk them into joining the celebration at the hotel up the beach was beyond Spock’s comprehension. They sat at a table at the back with another couple that looked just as lost as Spock felt. Jim chatted with them like they were old friends, laughed and whooped during the speeches like he knew all the inside jokes. Spock watched, sipping on cheap white wine, as Jim danced with the bride, twirling her around the dance floor to a chorus of cheers from the rest of the wedding party.
They lingered, much later in the evening than Spock had intended when they set out for a walk on the beach, observing tearful goodbyes as the bride and groom left the party. Jim was warm at his shoulder, their palms pressed together and fingers interlaced.
Spock watched him watching the festivities as they wound down. His expression was open and bright; his gaze flickered to Spock’s for a moment, mouth splitting into a wide grin, before turning back to the party that was drawing to a close. The sunlight from earlier in the day had left freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheeks - they were like constellations imprinted into his skin and Spock was captivated.
“When we plan our wedding,” Spock said quietly, “I think I might prefer it to occur in the morning.”
“What-” Jim turned to him, eyes wide, “what do you mean? We’re not planning a wedding…”
“Maybe we should.” Spock raised an eyebrow and allowed his mouth to pull into a sideways smile. Jim’s eyes widened further, his mouth parting in an ‘o’.
“Mr. Spock are you asking… are you proposing to me right now?”
He considered his response.
Watching Jim at this very human wedding had nudged forward the desire to make known his intention to remain by Jim’s side for the remainder of his life - if Jim would have him. He wondered, also, if perhaps he should have thought more about it before bringing it up so casually. Traditionally, humans procured a ring and proclaimed their undying affections at a predetermined location - not unlike the couple kissing at sunset this very evening. Jim had always insisted that he was not lacking in romance when it came to their relationship, but he was suddenly overcome with a sense of insecurity that he did not do enough to appeal to Jim’s human desires.
So, he took both of Jim’s hands in his own and knelt in the sand.
“Yes, James,” he said, “I suppose I am. Though, I do not-” he wanted to admit to not having a ring with which to mark the occasion. He had not planned on this - he had always assumed the permanence of their relationship to be intrinsically known. He did not need to communicate so physically when Jim literally knew the inside of his mind, and therefore his feelings and the depth of his devotion already.
“Yes.” Jim extracted his hands in order to hold Spock’s face reverentially between them. He leaned down and pressed their lips together and his unbridled joy bloomed unchecked through their physical connection. Spock lowered his shields and allowed it to surge into his own mind, washing over him and drowning out his ability to remain in control. The laughter that bubbled up from his chest was unintentional and Jim kissed him deeply in response. “Yes, I will marry you,” he said into Spock’s mouth. “I will marry you in every way you want - the human way like this, the Vulcan way. We can tour every known planet in the galaxy and tie ourselves together if that is what you wish.”
“It is,” Spock admitted - and it was the truth.
Jim pulled him back to his feet and they stood together, foreheads pressed. They passed their mutual feelings of deep affection and incalculable delight between each other, reveling in it, forgetting the world around them.