what would jon and damian's wedding look like?
Damian, who would rather no one know he has any feelings at all but especially not the softer ones, argues that they should get married in their superheroic identities rather than their secret ones. That way he can keep his privacy but anyone Jon rescues will know that he is taken and to keep their grubby paws off.
Jon listens very politely, kisses him, and says, “Absolutely not.” So that’s the end of that.
He has no actual need for fanfare, though, so in deference to Damian’s desire for privacy, he suggests the Wayne Manor backyard. News of the Wayne heir’s engagement does leak (thanks, Kon), but any paparazzi trying to get close the day of the wedding find their GPS malfunctioning and their cameras mysteriously out of power, and none of them make it within a mile of Wayne Manor. (Thanks, Raven.)
The guest list is relatively small. There are about forty people, two dogs, and a cow.
Damian, who has a weakness for ritual and heritage, will never admit the number of hours he spends trying to balance mainstream American wedding traditions with Chinese and Middle Eastern* and Kryptonian ones (or that he called Kara to find out what Kryptonian wedding traditions were, because Jon has no idea). He spends several days obsessing over the fact that there are four groomsmen (Kon and the other three Robins) and only two groomsmaids (Kara and Maya) until Jon gently reminds him that the marital couple isn’t gender-balanced either. He also promises to take Damian’s seating arrangement-related nervous breakdowns to the grave.
*Are the comics infuriatingly vague and Orientalist about Ra’s’s and thus Talia’s and thus Damian’s ethnic backgrounds, and so I have to be vague too? You bet!
Clark and Lois present Jon (no one gives anyone away despite Damian cackling “And then you’ll be mine, all mine!” at least three times during the planning process) and Bruce and Alfred present Damian. Alfred also holds the rings as he was universally voted the person least likely to either lose them or get distracted by punching a supervillain and arrive late.
(Talia is not invited but the morning of the wedding Jon and Damian wake up to discover that someone snuck into their room and placed beautiful matching swords on their bed. “How?” Jon demands, rubbing at his super-ears. Damian is too busy pretending not to be moved to answer him.)
They don’t write their own vows, because as Damian says, it’s bad enough that Jon knows how he feels - he doesn’t need all these chucklefucks knowing too. (He says this to Bruce, who points out that Damian has included him in the category of chucklefuckery. “Exactly,” Damian says, and Bruce sighs and pours himself another cup of coffee.)
In the end, Damian has overestimated his ability to maintain a stoic expression. The vows are generic and extremely brief, but there’s not a single person or cow in the audience who doesn’t know exactly how Damian feels when he says them.
Jon weeps openly (as do Clark, Lois, Alfred, and Dick), so he’s not a mystery either.
Everyone tries really hard to be cool at the reception for the benefit of the civilian caterers and band, but some weird stories definitely wind up leaking to social media, especially when the groomsmen’s “dance-off” turns into intensively competitive and extremely non-musical gymnastics. Also the guy the Wayne heir married maybe levitates for a minute? Look, there is a lot of champagne, things get crazy. For an hourly rate like that no one is complaining.
The tabloids report that the couple will be honeymooning on a private island, which is true. Part of what makes it so private is that the island isn’t technically on Earth.
In conclusion: it is very nice, and everyone has a great time, which is why Alfred finds Jason asleep in a prizewinning shrub at seven the next morning. He lets him sleep.
