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Bruce lounged on Daniel‘s couch and held an ice pack to his smarting shoulder. The gun he had been shot with had quite the kick and sent him shoulder first into a brick wall. The bricks were fine, so was his suit. The bullet hadn’t penetrated the well-reinforced fabric, but it had done some damage.
Thankfully, since they had started dating, Daniel now always had a supply of ice ready for him. Just in case. A couple of times, Daniel had to use them too. They ended up working side by side more times than Bruce could count—of course, side by side with Batman.
As he thought about it, watching Daniel spin around his small kitchen and humming a tune he vaguely recognized hearing from when Betty had the radio on in the Tower, he realized they had been doing this long before they had started dating. Long before Daniel had figured out Batman and Bruce Wayne were one and the same.
Daniel had seen him bleeding and they had been close to his flat. He hadn’t cared that it was Batman who he hadn’t really approved of. He had seen him in distress and offered to patch him up. And when Batman had immediately refused, not trusting him enough to get out of the suit in front of him, Daniel had stubbornly dragged him inside the flat, showed him the bathroom and the first aid kit and then left the flat altogether, telling him he would be back in half an hour.
Similar things had happened. And with time, Batman had learned to trust Officer Martinez. Then, Bruce had learned to trust Daniel too.
The ice had quickly turned useless, nearly melted. Bruce wordlessly stood up and placed the rest into the sink. He left the towel on the counter next to it. Daniel had his rules in his kitchen and they had to be followed. Bruce could respect that, could understand it too.
He turned to Daniel who was slowing stirring a pot, one hand resting on his hip. Bruce stepped closer, pressed himself across Daniel’s back. He hugged him from behind and bent forward enough to lay his head on Daniel’s shoulder.
“What song is that?”
“Hmm? What song?” Daniel asked, glancing at him before returning his attention to the pot. He let go of his own hip and put a hand across Bruce’s that circled his middle.
“You were humming.”
Daniel made a small sound and shrugged lightly. “I don’t really know. Must have heard it somewhere. Didn’t realize I was doing it.”
Bruce burrowed deeper into his shoulder. “I like your voice.”
Daniel grinned. “Yeah?” He kissed Bruce on the cheek. “I should do it more often then. A little pop song here and there. How do you feel about a serenade? Oh, even better, I can sing you to sleep. Your insomnia will stand no chance.”
Bruce groaned into his shoulder but a smile was fighting to show up on his lips. Daniel was fully laughing now. Bruce pressed himself closer. He loved this silly man so much. He would, in fact, like that serenade, if it was only the two of them and in the warmth of Daniel’s flat. He would love to fall asleep to Daniel’s voice, singing, talking, it didn’t matter.