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"We have to get married," Jim says, sailing into Leonard's office halfway through beta shift with a wild look in his eyes. He flings himself face-down onto the overstuffed couch they found on some starbase years ago, then rolls onto his side until he's nearly buried in the cushions with only his bright hair and eyes sticking out.
Leonard, a good way into the latest issue of one of his favorite medical journals and happily engrossed in an article on advancements in curing Zebulon Influenza, eyes him over the top of his PADD, waiting for an explanation that doesn't come.
"And what - exactly - made you interested in holy matrimony?" Leonard says after a moment devoted to severe staring that affects Jim not at all. He reaches for the half-drunk glass of bourbon on his desk and brings it to his mouth. This explanation feels like it's going to be one that requires a drink.
Jim works both arms out of the cushions to gesticulate - boy's never still, and Leonard's heart squeezes fondly - as he says, "The dilithium we've been sent to get is in mines owned by the Loksharr, and it turns out the Loksharr will only negotiate with married couples. Something about how marriage creates the best diplomats who understand give-and-take, blah blah blah, I thought Uhura would handle the diplomacy."
Leonard blinks. Sets the PADD down on his desk with an audible click. "First off, if they think marriage creates better people, they're damn wrong."
Jim grumbles in agreement. Leonard's heard enough, parceled out in dribs and drabs over their long friendship, to know that Jim's mother and stepfather weren't exactly the best examples of any couple; screaming, knockdown fights followed by cold silence and Wynona fleeing to space for a while seemed to be their modus operandi. For his part, Leonard doesn't like remembering the person he was towards the end of his marriage: work-obsessed, sour, lashing out at anyone who got too close-
Until Jim.
"Also, if they need a married couple, why not Uhura and Spock?"
The noise Jim makes sounds like Leonard's faint boyhood memories of distressed cattle. "I suggested that! They're practically in each other's back pocket all the time anyway, but Spock said that Vulcan marriages were not entered into lightly, and Uhura said that while she and Spock were on the road to bonding their souls-" Jim makes another evocative noise and gesture, "-she certainly wasn't going to do it for some dilithium crystals."
Leonard pauses with his tumbler at his lips. "And you think I will."
Jim squirms out from under the piled cushions, and Leonard carefully averts his gaze from the flat plain of his stomach where his command golds have ridden up, the trail of dark blond hair beneath his navel that Leonard itches to touch-
"You're already my next of kin on my paperwork," Jim says, serious as he almost never is, before his expression cracks into a grin. "Besides, don't you want to impress everyone by locking me down and putting a ring on it?"
Leonard rolls his eyes towards the ceiling and finishes off the rest of his drink. Damn fools, both him and Jim, but they both know the importance of dilithium to the Federation, and if he has to pretend to get everything he's ever wanted, then-
"Okay," Leonard says, placing his tumbler down, and gets the gratifying experience of watching Jim Kirk be speechless. "Let's fill out whatever paperwork these Loksharr require, but I'm keeping my last name." It's a good name, solid, with history behind it, and there are centuries of McCoys birthed and buried in Macomb County back on Earth.
Jim laughs, scrubs a hand over his already-rumpled hair. "You know how I feel about mine."
Leonard's chest aches a bit. He knows all too well; has sat beside Jim on rooftops overlooking San Francisco Bay, watched him smoke and drink and grumble about his own last name, how he'd give it up in a heartbeat - the pity in others' eyes, the unjustified ease professors try to give him - for something normal.
Of course, now that he's the Enterprise captain, head of the flagship, Savior of Earth - capital letters and all - Starfleet wouldn't take kindly to their golden boy changing anything about himself, even a last name that's been far more a burden than a blessing.
"Let's hyphenate, alphabetical order," Jim suggests, and then bounces up off the couch to snatch Leonard's PADD.
"Don't we need a judge or something to approve the forms?"
"Oh, Bones," Jim says lightly, scrolling through the PADD and dashing off his signature with aplomb wherever required, "don't you remember? Starship captains can perform marriages on their vessels."
Leonard squints at him again as he takes the PADD back and signs at the bottom. "I'm not standing up with you in front of the crew with you serving as both pastor and groom."
Jim grins, but now there's a private softness to him, a crooked edge to his smile that Leonard is always struck to see directed at him. "I'll just make an announcement to our away team and the bridge crew."
"What about rings?" Leonard pawned his old one years ago for the cost of the shuttle ride to Starfleet, and these Loksharr might have different ways of showing marriage ties, but rings are still fairly common among Starfleet. "You'll need one of those stretchy ones; with your luck I'd probably have to cut you out of a metal one to prevent a ligature."
"Good idea." Jim glances down at his own hand, then at Leonard's where it's curled around the PADD. "I'll think of something for you."
Leonard raises a brow. He'd been expecting to just replicate two silicone rings, but if Jim's got a plan in place...
"All right, then."
There's a beat of silence, microexpressions washing across Jim's face, and then he steps forward and slams into Leonard.
Ah. The patented Jim Kirk "I don't know how to express my emotions verbally, so here is a hug that feels halfway to a wrestling hold" move. Leonard is more than familiar, and wraps his arms around Jim's shoulders with a fond huff. Jim leans into him, trusting Leonard to push back, hold them upright, and Leonard does, heart thumping at the feel of Jim's breath against his ear, the drag of his fingers across Leonard's spine. Forever in motion, his Jim, and yet here he stills, content to be bounded by Leonard's arms.
"Thanks," Jim says, abrupt, "You're the only one I'd want to do this with." He steps away, sudden, but Leonard knows him well enough to take no offense. Jim's never wanted to be kept, even as he circles and returns to those few he trusts.
"If I show up to the transporter platform and you're in a dress," Leonard says, "I'm leaving."
Jim laughs as he heads for the door. "Oh, come on, Bones, you know I'd make any dress look good."
The door slides shut behind him before Leonard can respond, and he rolls his eyes with fondness and irritation both.
Guess he'd better look into replicating that ring.
-
"What." Leonard slams to a halt at the door to the transporter platform. "What is this?"
At his flat demand, Jim peers over his shoulder, and behind Jim, Sulu and Chekov break down into giggles.
There's blue and gold balloons and a crooked banner hanging from the ceiling that reads, "Congratulations on your wedding!" in Standard with a line of Vulcan underneath, and at that, Leonard turns to stare accusingly at Uhura and Spock.
They stare back. Uhura's mouth twitches.
"I merely consulted on the grammar," says Spock, but Leonard knows there's a smile at the back of those black eyes.
Behind Leonard, one of the balloons sags, wheezes, and dies unmourned.
"Aw," says Jim, pushing past Leonard into the transporter room. "That's so sweet."
"It's not every day that our captain and CMO get married," Sulu says, struggling and failing to stay straight-faced. "You deserve a celebration."
"Ve have brought you vedding gifts," says Chekov, big eyes so earnest that Leonard can only grunt and join Jim in the transporter room. Being mean to Chekov is like kicking a puppy, and he'd castrate anyone who did it.
Of course Scotty and Keenser are at the console, instead of the bowels of the ship where they damn well should be, and Scotty is a sheet to the wind already. Keenser, for their part, has a party crown tilted rakishly on their head. The console has some amateurishly-wrapped gifts atop it.
"Let's save those for after the party, honeybunches," Jim says, fluttering his lashes outrageously. "The Loksharr are waiting."
Leonard has never had Jim's penchant for nicknames, affectionate or otherwise, and only says, "You got the ring?"
"You're doing rings?" Uhura demands, and Leonard feels no little smugness when he pulls the little replicator-generated container from his pocket. It’s covered in a black velveteen material, and looks near enough to official as to make no difference.
From the side, he's pretty sure he hears Chekov, Sulu, and a concerningly-sloshed-sounding Scotty go, "Aww."
He holds the container out to Jim, only for Chekov to say,
"Nyet! You must put the ring on the keptin's finger!" When they both glance at Chekov, he's squared his shoulders and lifted his chin as if ready to do battle in the name of love itself. "It is tradition! You will be unlucky if you do not, and it is already bad enough ve do not have the crowns!"
Leonard blinks. Tries to picture what he and Jim would look like in crowns and fails utterly, then looks back at Jim, who's holding onto solemnity by the skin of his teeth, his mouth twitching.
"You heard the man, Bones. Can't have bad luck on the mission."
Ugh. Leonard clicks open the container and takes out the ring, and for all the world, the room goes quiet like he's actually gone down on a knee. Even Jim's transfixed, eyes huge. He licks his plush lower lip and leaves it shining, and Leonard distracts himself from the jolt of heat inside him by focusing on the ring.
The ring's a simple thing: a circle of stretchy silicone, treated with a coating of material that makes it have the richness and luster of gold. Fresh from the replicator, it shines in Leonard's fingers, and - Leonard can be sappy, sue him - engraved on the inside, in tiny Roman numerals no one's noticed yet, there's the date and coordinates of their first meeting on that awful shuttle.
Leonard McCoy wouldn't be who he is without that moment.
Jim's staring at the ring like he's never seen one before, and after an awkward heartbeat where Leonard just stands there, he says at last, gruff,
"Give me your damn hand."
"How romantic," Spock murmurs dryly - like Vulcans know anything about romance - but Jim looks up at Leonard with awe in his eyes. Seems about to speak, then steps closer, calloused hand outstretched. For a second, his hand seems to tremble.
Leonard takes it, feels its terrible fragility and strength, and is about to slide the ring on, when Chekov scares the life out of both of them by breaking the silence with a sharp,
"Nyet! You must say, 'With this ring, I thee wed."
"I am told Orthodox weddings do not have spoken vows-" Spock starts, only for Uhura to do something that makes him cut himself off with a gulp. Skinny as she is, she must have elbows like lethal weapons.
"Really?!" Leonard stares at Chekov, who glares back with such inherited centuries of tradition-enforcing energy that Leonard almost quails.
"Let's do it," Jim says, and there's humor and affection and no little worry in his gaze when Jim turns back. "Make an honest man of me, Bones."
"Christ," Leonard mumbles. He clears his throat, slides the ring over Jim's knuckles, the scars he knows as well as his own, until it settles at the base, and says, "With this ring, I thee wed."
The silence feels far more meaningful than it should, and for a heartstopping second, Jim blinks rapidly. Before Leonard can say anything, Jim pulls out his own ring box with his free hand and steps back, opening it up to reveal the ring.
It's another simple ring, a circle of gold, and for a second Leonard swears he sees numbers inscribed on the inside. But then Jim takes his left hand, grins at him - fearless and soft and warm - and slides the ring on, a cool weight settling itself into place on his finger, in his heart, and says without an ounce of irony,
"With this ring, I thee wed."
It feels monumental. It feels real.
Leonard's attention falls to Jim's mouth, feels the weight of those blue eyes on his own. His heart kicks up a notch, and for a wild second he's convinced everyone else in the transporter room is waiting for the same thing, their breaths held, Chekov’s hands clasped in front of his face and his entire frame vibrating wildly.
Leonard sways closer, infinitesimal, and then Jim mouths, "Later," with a wink and a squeeze of his hand, and God, what good did Leonard McCoy do in his past life to get a chance like this?
Jim turns them both to the rest of the room, raises their clasped hands for the assembled idiots to show off their rings glinting in the light, and says proudly, "With the power invested in me as a Starfleet captain, I pronounce us man and man."
Applause. Keenser appears to be in danger of falling off the console entirely with the force of how hard they're clapping.
"Congratulations," Spock says. "Now can we begin the mission?"
"You've ruined the afterglow," Jim says, lofty, as he and Leonard step onto the transporter platform to be joined by Spock and Uhura. "Just for that, Bones and I will be taking an extra-long honeymoon."
Leonard snorts. "Suppose we do have enough personal vacation time saved up."
"Can't think of anyone else I'd rather use it with," Jim says, grinning.
The transporter whirs to life, and Leonard realizes, in the last moment before dissolving, that he and Jim are still holding hands. He squeezes back, and Jim glances over, laughter sparking in those blue eyes that takes his breath away.
Leonard can hardly wait for ‘later.’