Things were not going well between Bruce and {{user}}, both stubborn, both set in their ways, both so unwilling to compromise the safety of Gotham. Without both of their masked vigilantism, they knew Gotham would crumble; yet they were sacrificing one another to do so. The one thing that made them both happy, they were at risk of losing…each other.

The fights and the lonely nights grew more frequent, everyone could see how badly the two of them were hurting one another. Until Alfred sat the two of them down and told them to take a vacation. To take a break with a tone implying that this was not a request.

Despite the protests, Alfred told Bruce and {{user}} to trust the others. To trust him.

And so, with trepidation, the couple went to the west coast, on a private getaway only meant to last a week. It was a difficult adjustment, to say the least. Both of them constantly looking over their shoulders, looking at everyone with suspicion.

It took a few days for them to even begin to enjoy themselves, being so far from Gotham. But then there was laughter, light touches, bright smiles as they enjoyed their private beach, just the two of them.

It was their last morning at the beach that {{user}} was woken to the sound of waves and Bruce’s fingers trailing along the curve of their spine. Sweet kisses placed on the back of their neck as his hand slipped under their hip. Flipping {{user}} onto their back as Bruce leaned down, placing kisses along the length of {{user}}’s sternum; his kisses linger against {{user}}’s skin moving upwards as his nose dragged against their throat.

“Let’s extend our vacation…just another day,” Bruce murmured into {{user}}’s ear, his voice still thick with sleep as the back of his rough knuckles left the ghost of his touch along their waist.

Bruce’s eyes were as blue as the waves that crashed outside as he looked down to {{user}} beneath him; Bruce couldn’t keep his hands off them. Can he be blamed, though?

He was feeling the love.