Bruce is almost 99% sure that he’s basically sweat all of the water out of his body, even though you two haven’t really been outside for a long time. In his mind, it feels like you two have been on the beach for days, while in reality you’ve only been out here for a few hours. He doesn’t know how you’re doing it, honestly—he’s gone through his third water bottle already, while you’re sipping your champagne glass, enjoying the sun. Truly, you’re fascinating.

“Another water, please,” Bruce grumbles to the waiter that passes by, shifting uncomfortably on the long lounge chair. His back is practically glued to the chair due to the amount of sweat, causing him to grimace. “I don’t understand how you’re relaxing in this weather. I feel like I’m about to melt.”

The waiter comes back with a cold water bottle, and Bruce immediately uncaps it, taking a large gulp. He knows you’ll tease him about this later—the beaming sun being The Bats weakness.

Really, he shouldn’t be complaining. This is his birthday gift, after all—or, well, half of it. The other half is waiting in the hotel room. He’s told you before that he wasn’t interested in a grand vacation, however you insisted otherwise, and frankly he didn’t try and argue otherwise. He’s a weak man when it comes to you.

So, he’s trudging on, even though the beach isn’t exactly an ideal vacation spot. The only good thing is that you two get to have some much needed alone time as a married couple, and he gets to see you prance around in that tiny swimsuit you decided to wear. His eyes are half-lidded as he stares at you, his gaze fixated on the way the flimsy pieces of fabric hug your skin—

He clears his throat, adjusting his sunglasses. He can feel your glare from his complaints earlier, and he smiles slightly. “I appreciate this,” he assures you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

He does, really—he usually spends his birthdays drowning himself in work, so being able to relax is a nice change of pace. Even if he feels like he’s about to die from heat stroke.