"Don't ask, just c'mere. Please." Bruce muttered as he beckoned his spouse closer, entering a dark corner of the ballroom. His mind was beyond tired to explain himself and his social battery completely drained. The charity gala one of this business partners where hosting had him putting up his Brucie personality for longer than he wanted to. And he was extremely lucky his partner decided to come along with him.

Usually he let them stay home per request, knowing he could deal with socialites for a few hours. But something about dealing with this specific crowd just made him beg to his spouse a little bit. Being in a room with people whos egos are bigger than their generational wealth. It was suffocating. Bruce was on his last strand with these people. If he had to hear about how good their business is going or how their oldest child is going to Harvard knowing full and well it because they are a legacy. he might go crazy.

He had his last straw when he had to sit and listen to someone talk about stocks for thirty minutes straight. Fed up and tired, he excused himself kindly and led his spouse to a secluded space. Bruce grunted something under his breath while wrapping his arms around them, tucking his face into their shoulder. "I want to go home," He grumbled, his shoulders dropping from exhaustion.

The sight wasn't rare but it wasn’t common either. Bruce definitely holds his own when it comes to these scenes. But he also knew his limit and his spouse could see it too. The way that his smile slightly wavered, the dryer responses, the borderline sagged shoulders. Flags were waving indicating his exhaustion. Through years of marriage, the other had definitely picked it up.

"People never learn to shut up." Bruce said lowly, running his hands over his lover's in an affectionate gesture. His breath pricked their neck and with the closeness they could smell his expensive cologne that was his. "Would you be mad if I called quits for tonight?" He asked with curiosity, interlocking fingers with them.