AN: I did a search for Simon Tam/Spencer Reid fic and I couldn't find any. What was I going to do, leave it that way?

Simon slipped his fingers out of the unruly mass of blond-brown hair in his lap just long enough to turn the page of his book. He slid his hand back into place and let his nails drag lightly over Spencer's scalp in the process, making Spencer's eyelids droop closed. He hummed softly, his attention momentarily diverted from his own book.

Simon had never made much use of that old mustard yellow couch outside the infirmary—not until Spencer had come aboard, at least. They made do with the thin single beds of their cramped passenger dorms for sleeping and making love, but if they wanted somewhere to stretch out and relax, the old couch on the lower deck was their best option.

There was little foot traffic down here this time of night, usually only River or the Shepherd, who were long since used to the sight of them reclined together like this, reading or talking softly. On a ship this small though, privacy—even relative privacy—was never guaranteed.

Simon tensed at the sound of Jayne's heavy boots approaching.

"Disgustin'," Jayne snarled as he swaggered past. "Bad enough you two are gettin' sexed on the regular when I ain't, but you gotta rub it in too?" He jerked his chin at the scene of romantic domesticity before him like it was all kinds of insulting. "Get a gorram bunk."

Jayne continued on his way, apparently uninterested in any kind of response from the pair. The clang of his boots on the metal grating grew softer as the tension slowly seeped out of Simon's shoulder muscles.

Simon looked down to find a mildly amused expression on Spencer's face.

"I wouldn't usually advocate following advice from Jayne Cobb," Spencer began, sitting up and turning to look at Simon, "but what do you think? Is it time to find ourselves a 'gorram bunk'?"

Simon couldn't help his soft exhalation of amusement at hearing Spencer use such a backwater profanity. He also couldn't help the goofy smile that tugged at his lips just from looking at Spencer's elegantly beautiful face.

There was a time when he didn't think anything good would come of his time spent on Serenity. But with this handsome, thoughtful, exceedingly brilliant man to fall asleep with and wake up to each day, he was happier than he'd been in a long, long time.

Spencer's hair was often known to do its own thing, but it was looking a little wilder than usual right now due to the earlier ministrations of Simon's fingers. Simon reached up and carded a hand through what could best be described as Spencer's bangs, coaxing them into some semblance of order.

When he looked back to Spencer's face he realised Spencer was doing that thing, that heartbreaking thing where he sits so still when Simon touches him, drinking it in like a stray dog who's afraid you might stop petting him any moment and never start again. It made Simon want to touch him everywhere at once, to drown him in the physical affection his life—until now, until Simon—had been so bereft of.

He settled for slipping a hand around to the back of Spencer's neck and drawing him in for a long kiss. Spencer's hand found his leg, sending a jolt of electricity through him even before Spencer slid his warm palm up Simon's thigh and back down again over the fabric of his trousers.

"Yeah," said Simon between kisses, "let's get a gorram bunk."

AN: If you're reading this, I'm eternally grateful, thank you :)