New Fic: Detail Oriented

[jackwabbit]

Detail Oriented

Fandom: Star Trek Discovery
Rated: G
Category: Vignette. Culmets. Angst. Romance. Fluff. (Re)established Relationship.
Word Count: 829.
Season: Post-two, Pre-three. (Probably? Inter-season speculation.)
Spoilers: General Series Knowledge Through The End of Season Two.
Summary: Paul’s a stickler for technicalities, and this is a pretty big one.
Note: This series was always supposed to end happy. I tried my best to get it done before season three started, but alas, here we are. Happy Season Three Premiere Day. Some of you have likely seen the first episode of season three already, but I have not. So I’m putting this up now, to stay true to my own vision of the Space Boos before canon blows it out of the sky. I have a few more ideas for stories in this series that will likely fill some gaps, and some of the ones I posted separately may also join this group, but this is my ending. I hope you like it. As for me, I’m doing what Jimmy Buffett told me to do: writing my own ending and hoping it comes true. Live long and prosper, everyone. See you on the other side of the premiere.

Also, this is part of the "I Rang The Bell With My Heart In My Mouth" series, and stories in this series are presented as inspiration strikes, not chronologically. See notes above for timeframe/related stories.

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They're lying in the dark.

Spores float above them, glittering in what passes for wind in Discovery's cultivation bay.

The floor below them is spongy with vegetation, and it's nearly as comfortable as their bed.

Most everyone is down on the planet, so there's little chance they'll be disturbed, and Paul is reminded of that time on Deneva, when he'd surprised Hugh with a picnic. It was only supposed to be a different type of after-work dinner, but they'd stayed there for hours, laying on their backs while Hugh learned the local constellations from Paul.

Now, Hugh's laying on his side, curled into Paul. His head rests on Paul's chest, one of his arms is wrapped around Paul's torso, and one leg is half covering both of Paul's. He's dozing while Paul watches his babies swirl in the air above them.

Or so he thinks.

But Paul's eyes aren't on the indoor sky. Or on the mycelial forest around them, gorgeous as both things are. No, he's looking at Hugh. His hand traces small, soft circles on the nape of Hugh's neck as he gazes at him. There's a thoughtful look on his face when suddenly, his hand stills. Hugh's halfway gone, but he notices.

"Paul?" he mumbles.

Paul smiles in the dark.

"Hey, babe," he whispers back.

Hugh shifts to be able to see Paul better.

"You okay?"

Paul nods. "Yeah. Just thinking."

"Oh?" Hugh asks, settling back down on Paul's chest. "What about?"

"You," answers Paul.

"Me?"

Hugh's voice is a little deeper than usual. He's sleepy.

"Yeah," says Paul. "Just been wondering about something."

Hugh snuggles up closer to Paul.

"What?" he asks.

The words are out of Paul's mouth before he can rethink them.

"Marry me, Hugh." Paul means it to be a question, but it doesn't sound like one.

But that's okay.

Because Hugh's answer doesn't come out at all typical, either. He squirms his way even closer to Paul.

"Pretty sure I already did that," he mutters into the crook of Paul's neck.

Paul shakes his head.

"No," he says. "You didn't."

Hugh lifts his head give Paul a confused look.

"Then why do I remember a ceremony?"

A sad look comes into Paul's eyes.

"Til death do us part, Hugh."

Hugh takes a beat, then pulls away from Paul. He retracts his limbs and rolls over onto his stomach, then lifts himself up on his elbows to fully look at Paul.

"I hadn't thought about that," he says.

Paul looks up and watches his spores dance for a moment before he speaks again.

"I have. At length."

Hugh's not sure how to take that. Paul so rarely talks about his death that this is still largely uncharted territory. So he just waits as Paul continues to stare at the simulated sky.

But Paul doesn't say anything more for a few moments, and the sadness on his face gnaws at Hugh until he can't stay silent anymore.

"It's a technicality, Paul."

Paul chuckles. "Well, you know me. Stickler for details."

"That you are," agrees Hugh, with a small snort of his own. "And I love you for it."

Paul smiles and finally looks back at Hugh.

"Yeah," he drawls. "So…"

"So what?" Hugh asks. And the look on his face is disbelieving, like he needs Paul to say it again in order to make sure it's real.

Paul has no problem obliging him.

"Hugh Culber, will you marry me? Again?"

Hugh's smirk splits into a beaming smile and he nods vigorously.

"Yes."

Then they're both crying and Paul lifts himself up to kiss Hugh, but it's short-lived, because Hugh pulls away and then lightly pushes Paul back down to the ground.

"On one condition," he says. Paul's eyes go wide, but he doesn't say anything, so Hugh continues. "You will not," he gives Paul a significant look at this, then goes on, "go crazy planning a ceremony. You, me, whoever can perform it, that's it. The end. Are we clear?"

Paul nods.

"Crystal," he says.

And he means it. He hadn't given the actual procedure any thought. Hell, he hadn't even planned on proposing just then. It had just sort of happened. So he was fine with the ceremony being the same way . Especially after their first one, intimate and unplanned was fine with him.

But really, he should've known better.

Or at least acted immediately.

Because when Tilly found out about their plans, and Reno (that traitor) reminded everyone that there just happened to be a church still standing on Terralysium, intimate and unplanned went to hell in a handbasket.

Actually, that wasn't quite right.

Because it was exactly three weeks later when Tracy stood with Hugh. And Tilly was there for Paul.

Saru officiated, and the whole crew turned out.

Everyone was dressed to the nines, and there wasn't a dry eye in the house.

So, really, it was only the unplanned part that got waylaid. Intimate survived just fine.