[He's described Kyle as crew more than once. Not that Jim would ever actually sleep with a member of his crew - there's too much there that could be taken as an abuse of authority, and he's not a fan of those implications - but it's the only frame of reference he has for caring for someone enough that he'd die for them without a second thought. Like crew, but not quite. Just differently enough that they fit, that this works.
It might not be forever. They went into this knowing that. Hell, Jim's pretty sure both of them are still more-or-less straight, and damn does he miss having a partner with a great rack, but he's learned to look for other assets, and it's enough. The domesticity still weirds him out sometimes, but it's enough.
Jim kisses the tips of his fingers, thrilled a little at the public affection. Sure there's no one around for miles, but it's still somewhere other than the closed quarters of their (their?) suite.]
I care about you. That's not going anywhere.
[His tone's firm. He doesn't like using the word love, but he's never been one to dance around admittance of affection. Jim cares about everyone casually, it's part of why he's--
A good captain.
The revelation is like a blow, and Jim sits back against the snow with a thoughtful twist to his expression. All this time, all they've done, he's doubted himself. And now--
Just like that, it's gone. He may have come easy into a position he wasn't ready for. He's spent months thinking that maybe it was wrong, that he should have had more training, more time. That maybe Marcus wouldn't have tricked him if he'd just--
But whether or not it's happened to him in his timeline yet, it's over. Maybe it'll play out the same way, maybe it won't, but the Enterprise is his ship, and he's her captain, and maybe he never earned it, but he's fought to keep it just the same. And he's learning. One day he'll go back and be a better man than he was. Maybe some day he'll even deserve her.
He exhales once, it's a little unsettled noise, and then he hooks Kyle's knee and flips him into the snowbank.]
You're good for me.
[He says that, firm.]
And I'm good for you too. Everything after that's easy, Angel.
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It might not be forever. They went into this knowing that. Hell, Jim's pretty sure both of them are still more-or-less straight, and damn does he miss having a partner with a great rack, but he's learned to look for other assets, and it's enough. The domesticity still weirds him out sometimes, but it's enough.
Jim kisses the tips of his fingers, thrilled a little at the public affection. Sure there's no one around for miles, but it's still somewhere other than the closed quarters of their (their?) suite.]
I care about you. That's not going anywhere.
[His tone's firm. He doesn't like using the word love, but he's never been one to dance around admittance of affection. Jim cares about everyone casually, it's part of why he's--
A good captain.
The revelation is like a blow, and Jim sits back against the snow with a thoughtful twist to his expression. All this time, all they've done, he's doubted himself. And now--
Just like that, it's gone. He may have come easy into a position he wasn't ready for. He's spent months thinking that maybe it was wrong, that he should have had more training, more time. That maybe Marcus wouldn't have tricked him if he'd just--
But whether or not it's happened to him in his timeline yet, it's over. Maybe it'll play out the same way, maybe it won't, but the Enterprise is his ship, and he's her captain, and maybe he never earned it, but he's fought to keep it just the same. And he's learning. One day he'll go back and be a better man than he was. Maybe some day he'll even deserve her.
He exhales once, it's a little unsettled noise, and then he hooks Kyle's knee and flips him into the snowbank.]
You're good for me.
[He says that, firm.]
And I'm good for you too. Everything after that's easy, Angel.