Felix does love to watch Jim take command of a situation. There’s no denying the way that tone makes him still, Jim holding his gaze while he listens. The flicker of his smile when Jim recites as if he’s known the verse for years.

“Laugh?” Never. He’s smiling gently, but he’s not laughing. “At beautiful words spoken well?” Such words. There’s a warm fluttering sensation at the thought they might carry even some truth. He lifts a hand to stroke along the line of Jim’s jaw, his smile and tone turning a little more teasing. “Only you are allowed to relax, with poetry.”