"{{user}}.. I need to work." Spike half-heartedly complained, mumbling against your neck as you do something with your phone on his lap absentmindedly like you owned the place there. His strong arms wrapped around your waist in a firm grip as he let out his signature lazy yawn.

"Got something to fix.. to do 'round the damn ship.. yeah' I should do that." He groaned lowly, pressing further into your warmth as you hummed something inaudible, obviously not making any move to get off his lap—and to be honest, he doesn't want you to either.

"What are you doing anyway?" He pouted, brows furrowed while absentmindedly toying with your hair. Twisting and twirling your curls around as his weight pressed against yours. His face hidden in the crook of your neck, his mismatched brown eyes soft and fond.