Chapter Text
Bruce was exhausted. 10 hours into a 12 hour shift, and only now was it quiet enough for him to have a break. All he wanted was a tuna sandwich. He had brought one from home, one that Alfred had made for him, but after dragging himself to the breakroom fridge he realised someone had taken it. In a hospital as large as this one it happened often. He had partly expected it but that didn’t stop his stomach from dropping into his shoes when he saw the empty space where his lunch bag had been.
He went up to the cafeteria, the 24/7 one which was for staff only, and was sad to find that the only sandwiches there were ham and turkey.
He wanted tuna.
There was a convenience store across the street from the hospital. Bruce had only been in there a few times, under the same circumstances. He tried to go there as little as possible because, although it was only a couple of minutes walk, that was still a couple of minutes spent walking when he should be resting. Even more if there was a line at the cashier.
But he really wanted a tuna sandwich. So today he would take a few minutes out of his half an hour break to walk across the street and buy a tuna sandwich. If he got there and they didn’t have any he was sure he’d cry.
It was a tiny store, if Bruce was any taller he’d bump his head on the disgusting florescent lights that were built into the ceiling.
He walked to the refrigerated area, finding his way there by following the loud buzzing noises of the old fridges.
His stomach dropped from his shoes through the floor, there were no sandwiches. Where they usually were there was just empty space.
He turned and walked to the cashier, a dark look on his face.
The cashier looked up from his phone as Bruce approached. A slender pale man with dark hair.
The cashier smiled at him, a brilliant white smile so wide it almost split his face in half. So fake and forced that it took Bruce off guard.
“How can I help you, tall dark and, uh, brooding,” the cashier said.
“Sandwiches,” Bruce questioned bluntly, almost rude.
The cashier’s eyes drifted from Bruce over to the fridges, his smile and demeanour dropped. “I told Jacob to do that before he went home,” he mumbled to himself, after which he slathered that customer service smile back on his face, smiling back at Bruce. “I’ll get that for you, sir.”
Brue felt himself deflate a little at the man’s tone. He got the feeling that the cashier was just as tired and moody as he was.
“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment in himself, “I snapped at you. It’s been a long night.”
“Yeah?” the cashier grunted, walking past him and through the aisle, towards the back room. “You work at the hospital, right? There been an emergency or something?”
Bruce shook his head, “If there had I wouldn’t be here,” he tried to joke, letting out a weak breathy laugh.
The cashier glanced back at him as he walked into the back room, the customer service smile faltering for a moment as a more genuine one shone through from behind it.
Bruce felt himself still at the sight, just for a second. “Uh, I just wanted a tuna sandwich,” he said, “Someone stole the one I brought from home.”
“What?!” the cashier gasped dramatically. “Maybe you should sneak some laxatives in it next time, whoever steals it is in for a surprise.” He disappeared out of sight for a moment, Bruce could hear him opening doors and boxes.
Bruce scoffed, biting back a smile. “I couldn’t do that,” he explained. “If they had to go home I’d have extra work.”
“Oh, yeah,” the cashier hummed, walking back through to the shop floor and waving a packed sandwich out towards Bruce. “This good?” he asked.
Bruce nodded, “Yes, thankyou.”
He hadn’t gotten a good enough look at the sandwich to tell if it was what he wanted, but he didn’t want to make the cashier have to search through boxes of sandwiches to find the ‘right sort’ of tuna sandwich.
“Good. These are one of my favourites,” the cashier began to inform him, “I usually find tuna too dry, but these are, uh,” he paused, clearing his throat and letting out a nervous chuckle, “I’m gunna talk your ear off aren’t I?”
“No, it’s ok,” Bruce reassured him, “It’s nice to have a conversation that isn’t about work.”
The cashier rang him up at the register, giving him a soft smile as he poked at the buttons. “You know what?” he cooed happily, “I’m gunna give you my employee discount. It’s only 10%, but you seem like you need it.”
“Oh,” Bruce perked up, “You won’t get in trouble, will you?”
The cashier shrugged, “If anyone asks, tell them we’re dating.” He winked across the counter at him.
Bruce shifted on his feet, “Oh, uh. Ok.” He smiled weakly, “Thanks. What’s, uh… what’s your name? Just, in case someone does ask. It’d be weird for me to not know my own boyfriend’s name.”
The cashier glanced down at his chest, then let out a huff, “Forgot my fucking badge…” he grumbled. He looked back up at Bruce. “It’s John. My name’s John.” He paused awkwardly for a moment, “…What’s yours?”
“Oh,” Bruce cleared his throat, “It’s Bruce.”
“Bruce Wayne!” John exclaimed, clapping his hand to his chest, “Of course! I thought you looked familiar.” He let out a nervous laugh, a soft pink blush brightening his face. “Ok, so you don’t need the 10% off." He shrugged, still smiling, "I’ll give it to you anyway, though.”
Bruce gave another soft nod, “Thankyou.” He picked his sandwich off the counter. You don’t have to,” he added.
John raised his hand in protest, “No, no, let me brighten your day.”
Bruce flashed his card across the front of the reader, and took his sandwich. “Thankyou,” he repeated, his tone soft and genuine, his heart swelling a little in his chest. The idea that someone would do something that could get them in trouble just to brighten his day. It was night to know there were people like that out there. Working in a hospital, dealing with things like injuries from domestic abuse, reckless driving, it was easy to forget that there were still nice people in the world.
“I hope your shift goes quickly,” John said as Bruce turned to leave.
“Yours too,” Bruce responded cheerily.