Rating: R (...ish?)
Summary: Kirk needs to get married for political reasons. Spock offers himself as the logical choice. Written for the st_xi_kink meme. Enjoy!
Vulcan paperwork was thankfully (and apparently to humans, surprisingly) simple. There were no long and drawn out applications or legal jargon. Spock had a hypothesis that human marriage papers were made intentionally difficult to complete because humans had a tendency to make big decisions impulsively, and as such needed some deterrent to keep them from creating unintended future legal problems on a whim.
At least, Spock rationalized, the future legal problems he and Jim were creating were intentional.
Jim, for his part, looked doubtful. “What, I just sign my name once and it’s good?”
Spock nodded, already signing his in Vulcan letters, following with the translation into Standard. Jim raised an eyebrow, but signed his own sheet regardless, a scrawling signature nearly an eyesore compared to the neat, contained signature of every Vulcan Spock had ever met. He set down the pen and glanced over the simple sheet, and then back to his new husband.
“That’s it?” he asked, picking up the paper. “I mean, ‘I fully understand the legal consequences of engaging in nuptials with the individual in possession of the corresponding form 4487642-B and the processes by which this process may be annulled or dissolved.’ Is that seriously all Vulcan has to say about marriage?”
Spock gathered Jim’s sheet with his own, forcing down some smattering of sentimentality. “It is extraordinarily rare that a marriage occurs between two previously unbonded individuals,” he explained. “Once bonded, all a pair lacks is legal recognition. Divorce and annulment among Vulcans is particularly rare as a result.”
Jim shifted. “Oh,” he murmured. “So…we’re a rarity?”
Spock paused. “I…implied that we had already bonded,” he admitted. “I will file the contracts immediately. Our koon-ut-kal-if-fee will proceed immediately following the entry of our union in the federation database. If you wish anyone to witness this, it would be best to invite them planetside now.”
Jim grinned, flipping his communicator out of his pocket and open in one fluid moment. “Scotty?” he called in. Spock slid the papers into the window wordlessly.
“Yes, Cap’n?” the man’s voice came through clear as day. Jim smirked.
“Prepare to beam yourself, Bones, and Sulu down to New Vulcan,” he said, propping a hand on his hip. “Let Chekov man the transporter and give Uhura the conn. I expect to see the three of you in five minutes, okay?”
There was a pause. “Alrighty then. I did want to see what it’s like down there. I’ll be down soon.”
Spock raised an eyebrow at the captain. “An odd choice of witnesses,” he observed. “Is there any particular reason you selected them?”
Jim shrugged, crossing his arms. The communicator was back in his pocket. “Bones would kill me if I didn’t invite him to my wedding,” he very obviously joked. “And Scotty and Sulu are the biggest gossips on the ship. If we let them see the wedding, everyone’s gonna know we’re married before midnight.”
The Vulcan nodded. “Logical,” he said softly. A pause as he collected his thoughts. This was not how he was brought to believe his marriage would be carried out. He was thankful for a moment that many of the traditions would be impossible now, and equally thankful that Jim was male. The ceremony would be simpler. There would be no bridal party, no kal-if-fee, and most thankfully, the ceremony would not need to take place on his father’s land. ‘Keilok’ had guaranteed them the ceremony would take place in the council room, after which they were to retreat for—
Spock felt his shoulders stiffen. Jim frowned. “Spock?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
“It is fortunate we have already arranged our shared quarters,” he managed, the words coming out less than smoothly. Jim cocked his head, confusion evident on his features. Spock met his eyes, willing these words to come out more easily. “After the ceremony, we are expected to retreat to a private location – our quarters, in this instance – and consummate the bond. We are expected to remain isolated for two days.”
Jim was the one who froze this time. His mouth slid open slightly. “Wait, consummate?” he asked abruptly. Spock nodded, unable to respond vocally. “Consummate, as in…sex? We’re expected to go have sex for two days straight?”
Spock nodded again. “I imagine it should be easy enough to fake intimacy,” he offered. Jim sighed.
Jim sighed in relief. Spock tried not to feel disappointed.
‘Keilok’ arrived not a second later, dressed in ceremonial garb. Spock glanced over Jim, still in his yellow command shirt, and to his future self. The older one shook his head. “As this union is rather abrupt, we had no time to prepare your clothing,” he informed them. “This will likely be more comfortable for both of you anyway.”
“Thanks,” Jim smiled. ‘Keilok’ returned the gesture, if only slightly – but it was more than Spock would have allowed himself to do. “Just waiting for Bones, Scotty, and Sulu.”
There was a long silence as they awaited the arrival, with Jim pacing and the pair of Spocks very occasionally exchanging glances. After what seemed too long a time, there was the telltale materialization of three bodies.
“You’re late!” Jim called as the three men completely rematerialized. McCoy raised an eyebrow at the man’s response. “Jeez. There’s no way that was five minutes, Scotty.”
Sulu crossed his arms. “He didn’t have a lot of time to arrange everything like you asked,” he pointed out. “And frankly, I don’t see the sense in leaving Uhura in charge of the bridge. She’s an excellent linguist, but her leadership skills are limited. I’m sure you could’ve handled everything you needed to down here with an ensign’s help. I should be on the ship.”
Jim smirked. “Didn’t get much sleep last night, Mr. Sulu?”
“Chekov kept me up until two trying to explain transwarp beam theory to me,” he growled. “Didn’t help that I had to cover for your shift today, too. Why am I here?”
Spock assumed it would be best if the explanation was given rationally, so he stepped forward. “It is an extension of an honor, Mr. Sulu,” he informed him. “I apologize we did not give further notice, but I am confident you will find the arrangement worth the questionable chain of command it created.”
“What arrangement?” McCoy spoke this time. Before Spock could even speak, Jim was clapping his hands on his best friend’s shoulders.
“Long story short, we’re getting hitched,” he grinned, the expressions of all three men going completely blank. McCoy simply stared at Jim with a look that suggested he might have suspected insanity after a moment. Jim chuckled. “Oh, and by the way – I want you to be my Best Man, Bones. You’re cool with that, right?”
Spock watched as the doctor reached into his pocket and pulled out a tricorder, running it over Jim incredulously. Why he had brought it was beyond the Vulcan. “No fever…”
Jim sighed. “I’m not sick, Bones,” he deadpanned. “Is it so hard to believe that I want to marry Spock?”
And then Scott was laughing, arms wrapped around his body. Spock raised an eyebrow in his direction, but Jim just strode over and slapped him on the back. “I cannae believe it!” the man gasped out, barely keeping upright. “I knew the two o’ya were, y’know, the two o’ya, and you were together – but aren’ya moving a wee bit fast?”
“On the contrary, Mr. Scott, the timing is ideal on both our parts,” Spock contradicted, mentally phrasing his next words. “And I assure you, this was an inevitability, and thus the sooner resolved the better.”
“Real sentimental,” McCoy grumbled. “Jim, you’re sure? I mean, you two don’t even live together.”
Spock watched Jim, apparently a marvelous actor in the making, blink in confusion. “What?” he seemed to ponder it a moment. “Bones, Spock and I do live together. He moved into my quarters awhile ago. I thought you’d noticed.”
“When?!” the man sputtered. “Dammit, Jim, I’m a doctor, not a psychic! You have to tell me these things!”
Spock took a breath. “Although you have a right to express your concerns, Doctor, I assure you that this marriage is for the best,” he said firmly. “Once bonded, the only missing legality in my race is marriage. Furthermore, should we wait any longer, I expect my father would attempt to bond me to another Vulcan. And finally, if this marriage had occurred ten hours from now, the captain would have been removed from command on the Enterprise.”
That seemed to capture everyone’s attention. “What?” Sulu asked, neck tilting at an unusual angle. “What do you mean ‘removed from command’?”
Jim scratched his neck. Spock was fairly certain it did not actually itch, though there was a sheen of sweat forming on his body. He did not allow the image to hold sexual connotations. “Well, uh, you know Komack’s been against me becoming captain since the start?” the human started, an odd half-smile, half-frown on his face. “He filed a claim that I’m a Klingon citizen because I was born in Klingon space.”
“Ridiculous,” McCoy spat. “Jim, your parents were both citizens of the Federation. You’re a Federation citizen.”
“Tell that to Komack,” Jim grimaced. “No one can disprove it. Back then, evacuation shuttles weren’t considered Federation soil. There’s debate to retroactively declare births on evacuation shuttles as births on sovereign Federation territory, but right now? No one can legally say I’m not a Klingon citizen. When I told Spock, he proposed.”
Scott actually winked at Spock. The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. “Didn’ want to be separated from the cap’n, then?”
“That is not inaccurate,” Spock confirmed lightly, glancing towards ‘Keilok’. “Ambassador. It would be in good sense to begin the ceremony as expeditiously as possible. We are scheduled to set course to the Lurentian system as soon as possible.”
‘Keilok’ nodded his agreement, gesturing for the group to follow. Spock spared a glance behind him as he walked, noting Jim and McCoy arguing quietly, heads close together and increasingly irritated looks growing on both their faces. He attributed it to the suddenness of the nuptials and ignored them. Sulu still had a look of shock on his face, and Scott was insistently marching alongside the two Spocks, a grin on his face.
“So, you’re showing up old Komack, are ye?” he badgered, resembling in some ways an overly attentive pet. “Tha’s brilliant, that is. Never did like the man. Used to petition against interspecies marriage before the Federation cut in and made it all legal, you know? Dunno how he got all the power he’s got, but he doesn’ deserve it. You show him.”
“Indeed,” Spock murmured, glancing at his older counterpart. However short the walk to the council room should have been, it seemed inordinately longer. Each step seemed so small.
The step he was about to take was so much bigger.
Logically, he realized he had officially been married to Jim since he’d filed their contracts, but somehow it wasn’t complete yet. In moments, he would stand before the council again, before their shipmates and family and even himself and join in ancient ceremony. In moments, he would be wedded, not simply married.
As they walked, Spock recalled something Keilok had said to their father earlier. Something that made his blood stop cold in his veins, or so it felt. He glanced at his elder self.
“You said the male carrier technique will be certified this year?” he said in as low a voice as he could manage. Keilok nodded minutely, just enough to confirm the answer without raising any suspicions. Spock’s mouth was suddenly dry. “Did you two ever—”
“We did not need to do so,” he murmured. “We by that point in our lives had each reproduced. I do not regret that we did not choose to have a child together, though I at times wonder if we should have. But we were content with what we had.”
They thankfully reached the council room at that precise moment, sparing Spock the responsibility of a reply. Sulu, Scott, and McCoy were ushered into the room by Keilok, leaving the captain and first officer alone outside. Spock stretched out the nerves building in his shoulders. “Are you prepared to enter?”
Jim glanced at the door for a moment too long. “Sorry I’m making you do this,” he murmured. Spock felt an odd tingle in his abdomen close to his heart.
“In wedding you, I am ensuring the Enterprise will remain in good hands,” he informed him as simply as he could manage. “There is nothing for which you need apologize. There is, however, one gesture with which you will need to become familiar.”
Confusion crossed Jim’s face briefly. Spock gently lifted his captain’s hand by the wrist and pressed his first two fingertips against his. “When we are told to kiss, this is how it must be done,” he stated. Jim cocked his head as though waiting for more. Spock pressed his fingers against the other’s firmly, repressing a shudder at the sensations it evoked. “I am aware humans kiss with their mouths, Jim. We do so with our fingers. Please refrain from making any inane jokes about thumb wrestling.”
Jim, whose mouth had opened just as he made his request, froze, and then looked slightly disappointed. His eyes traveled to their joined fingertips and he flexed them lightly against Spock’s. “This is a kiss?”
“Huh,” Jim muttered. He pulled his hand back and Spock found himself missing the contact immediately. He willed that away. “Ready for the bells?”
“Drums,” Spock corrected. “Vulcan weddings employ the use of drums.”
Jim smirked at his answer and slipped his arm through his first officer’s, and then marched them together through the door. Spock found he could not complain.
The room was lit appropriately, the sunlight streaming through the windows reflecting off blue and grey rock and flittering about the room, artificial lights no less beautiful glancing up from the floors to shine light where shadows might have fallen. Keilok stood before two kneeling mats. Behind the right mat stood McCoy, flanked by Sulu and Scott. Behind the left – Spock’s arms attempted to clench to his body, only succeeding in holding Jim’s forearm against his heart. Behind the left stood his father. But what stood next to him forced emotions Spock might never have admitted having in the first place if denying them hadn’t seemed so immediately illogical.
On his father’s right side stood a simple frame, the photo inside capturing his mother’s gentle smile, her soft curls beyond the reach of the camera’s lens. Spock had never seen the photograph before, had never even seen a traditional camera capture his mother’s image – and yet here it was. He found he could not move.
Jim allowed him this, and although Spock could not remove his eyes from the photo, he knew the man was looking at him. An extra moment forcing a neutral expression to his face, and then Spock loosened his grip on the man beside him and stepped forward.
They reached the mats, at which point he removed his arm from the other man’s and stood before his father behind the mat. Jim caught on and stood before McCoy opposite him. Leading by example, Spock sank to his knees in as controlled a manner as he could manage, remaining upright otherwise. Jim followed suit, his face betraying no nervousness.
“I am going to assume there are none in company who wish to combat this bond,” Keilok began, “and as such the ceremony shall begin.”
There were words spoken in Vulcan and in Standard, words of measured devotion and of the compatibility of minds. Words of tradition and responsibility, and words of the presence in their minds of one another, parted from me and never parted.
“Live long and prosper. Together,” Keilok finished the ceremony without the salute, merely crossing his arms behind his back. “Complete the union.”
Jim subtly glanced to Spock for guidance, at which point the Vulcan in question raised his hand, fingers extended. Jim caught on immediately – the man was not unintelligent, despite evidence otherwise – and lifted his own, pressing them against Spock’s. They remained together for a few long moments, after which Spock dropped his hand and rose to his feet, offering a hand to help Jim to his.
“You are wed,” Keilok nodded, glancing between the pair with obvious approval in his eyes. Spock wondered what Jim would think of it. He did not linger on the subject, though, didn’t have a chance to as Keilok spoke again. “Retreat to your quarters, Spock and Jim, to consummate what you have been given.”
McCoy exchanged a horrified glance with Scott behind Jim’s back, something which both amused and irritated Spock. And then Keilok was leaning forward, speaking in low tones:
“…although I suspect this has been preempted quite thoroughly already indeed,” he murmured, to which Spock felt his ears burn and watched as Jim’s shoulders rose with laughter. He was quite glad not to be facing his father.
“Alright, then. Retreat we shall!” Jim exclaimed, grinning at Spock. He fished his communicator out of his pocket and flipped it open. “All right, Chekov, beam us up!”
A light touch to his shoulder made Spock turn around. His father’s face was unreadable – but the offerings in his hands said everything. Spock took them as he began to dematerialize, nodding his thanks.
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