"You cannot be bloody serious," Wade Barrett's heavily accented voice snaps as he takes one look at Heath Slater, Drew McIntyre and Jinder Mahal in their ring gear. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares incredulously at the Union Jacks design spanning their clothes, shaking his head.
"Course we're serious, why wouldn't we be?" Heath demands, more than a little defensively as he looks at himself in a full-length mirror, smirking. "We look damn good, don't we, boys?"
"Eh, I always look good," Drew says, his own accent thicker than normal thanks to the tour they're currently on. Jinder quietly analyzes himself in the same mirror, tilting his head as he adjusts his jacket to rest just so against his shoulders, not wanting to get involved in the argument brewing behind him. "Wouldn't you say so?" he continues to pick, ignoring as Wade snarls at him.
Heath wisely lets it go before approaching Wade, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. "Aw, c'mon, Brit, get into the spirit. We're not in England that often, and besides, this is the first time we've seen each other in awhile since your Visa issues. Are you gonna really be grumpy the entire time?"
Wade looks down at him, unimpressed, and Heath rolls his eyes in response.
"Right, I forget. You're always grumpy," he teases him, pinching his side. Wade swats his hand away but doesn't do anything else, seemingly reluctant to move away from the ginger's warmth. "So, honestly. What do you think?"
"I think it's bloody ridiculous," he says, unconsciously rubbing the edge of the jacket between his fingers. "But I suppose... if anyone can pull it off, it'd be you. Hopefully no one attacks you on the street over it."
Heath blinks, pleasantly surprised. "You always know how to charm a guy, Brit," he smirks, resting his hand atop Wade's and stopping his repetitive movements. "Everything'll be fine. Hell, we might even find some success in 'em if the crowd gets behind us enough."
If Wade looked uncertain before, he's downright disbelieving right now. "Right, of course," he bites out, realizing what he's doing and moving his fingers away from the jacket. But before he can get too far away, Heath grabs his hand and squeezes it. "Good luck with that."
Heath rolls his eyes and leans in, kissing him quickly before he can escape. "Right. See you after my match, Brit." He turns to look at his bandmates. "Alright, boys, let's get this party started."
As the three of them leave, Wade shakes his head and smirks, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches them leave, humming slightly as he rests his fingers against his lips, the lingering feel of Heath's jacket clashing with the remaining warmth of his lips. He chuckles softly. "Ridiculous Ginger."
His team loses that match and Wade greets them at the gorilla position, wrapping the jacket back around Heath's shoulders and leading him to the locker room, rubbing his shoulders briskly. Heath leans into him and mutters, "So are you gonna say it yet?"
"Say what?"
"I dunno, I told ya so, or whatever." He grunts as Wade lets him go long enough to push the door open, his head starting to throb. He enters quietly and sinks down on a bench, digging his fingers into his eyes.
"Maybe next time," he says, pulling over Heath's bag and finding his aspirin, shaking out two. He'd become something of an expert in recognizing the signs whenever Heath gets a headache. "Here, take these." Heath squints an eye open and grabs the pills out of his hand, sighing when a bottle of water follows it, sipping greedily from it as he both rehydrates and downs the medicine. "Now just relax." He sits down next to him and rubs his back soothingly, ignoring Jinder and Drew as they wander around, getting out of their own gear and preparing to leave.
"Thanks," he mutters, leaning into him. "I'll be alright in a minute. Then we can go to the pub, or whatever you want."
"That's fine," Wade responds after a few moments. "I'm rather sick of pubs by now, let's just go to the hotel and you can sleep off this headache. You can pretend to be alright, but I know you're going to be miserable."
"True," he sighs. "Alright, thanks, Brit. That sounds good. Lemme just change really quick."
"Fine." Wade watches with a small, fond smile as the ginger wanders around, switching his wrestling gear for a shirt, jeans and a slightly more subdued denim jacket with sequins here and there, carefully folding the gear so it doesn't wrinkle up in the bag before the next event on Wednesday. "Ready to go?"
"Yep. Let's go." He leans over to grab his bag, but Wade's already there, dragging it over his shoulder, Heath blinking in surprise when it disappears from his sight. "Oh, Brit, you don't hafta-"
"Already done, Ginger. Now come on, let's get you back to the room so you can rest." His grip on the bag is sure and Heath sighs, not wanting to fight with him over this too. "Come." Wade's free hand is warm through Heath's shirt as he follows him out of the building and to their car, relieved to let Wade take over for a little bit.
Wade thinks Heath and the other goofs would take Tuesday off, relax, but no, they're out there, partying in their gear, and he tags along, just to ensure that the three don't get themselves killed, but unbelievably enough, the majority of the people they come across are more amused than annoyed by them, though there are a fair few who merely look confused, which is a standard reaction for 3MB. He sits at the bar and tries to pretend like he doesn't know them, which is hard to manage when Heath comes over every few minutes and tries to get him to join them. He hadn't realized the place had a karaoke machine. "Oy," he grouses, trying to drown himself in his pint. "No, Slater, bloody hell, I'm not joining you!" he reiterates for the millionth time, careful not to move, give Heath any kind of momentum in dragging him off of his barstool.
"Party pooper," he chides him playfully, nudging against him. "Fine, then. I'll try to find a good song to dedicate to you then."
Wade groans. "You really don't have-" But Heath's already gone. Wade sighs and shakes his head, smirking mirthlessly as a song begins to play behind him, the Brit quickly downing the rest of his drink as a few people down the bar turn to look on in horrified amazement at what's going on at the karaoke machine. "Bloody hell." But, once the song is done and Heath has returned, even Wade can't deny that the bright grin on his face almost makes it all worth it, the ginger settling in close to him and snagging his beer, downing it. "Hey," he protests half-heartedly, closing his eyes when Heath grabs him and kisses him, the taste of beer and Heath shutting him up sufficiently. "Bloody git," he smirks.
"Yeah but I'm your bloody git," Heath volleys back, nuzzling against him. He's clearly already a little more than tipsy and Wade shakes his head fondly, dragging him off of the stool and outside to sober up a little bit before returning to the hotel.
Wendesday comes and goes, 3MB actually managing something that Wade needs to rewatch a couple of times to believe. They win, and it's an ecstatic Heath that bounds into his arms afterwards, the cool feel of his gear pressing against Wade's chest as he rubs Heath's back. "That felt great," he mutters into his shoulder.
"I bet it did," Wade responds, pulling away to look at the slightly flushed look on his face. He smiles, leaning back in when Heath squeezes him tighter. "I suppose that gear is good luck for you after all."
"See, I knew you'd start to like it-"
"But it's still bloody awful," he quickly finishes his thought, biting back laughter when Heath looks annoyed. Leaning in, he kisses away the ginger's protests and his own amusement, sighing against his lips and waiting patiently until Heath finally gives in and kisses him back, brushing his fingers through Wade's dark hair. "I suppose I love you despite that, though," he says, tugging on the collar of Heath's jacket.
"And I love you too, despite your opinions on what I wear." Heath smirks up at him as Wade rolls his eyes.
Thursday is the quiet day that Wade had been hoping Tuesday would be, the two of them laying in bed while watching TV, eating roomservice. Wade is idly running his fingers through Heath's hair, listening as he talks out ideas running through his mind about future gear ideas, especially for Nashville, something about rhinestones and cowboys or... Wade shrugs, not sure what exactly Heath is mumbling about, pressing a kiss against his hair. "Sounds about right," he says, distracted as Heath chuckles, his warm breath tickling against Wade's arm. "Hopefully I can be there to see this ridiculousness."
Heath grimaces, lightly scratching at Wade's skin as he sits up to stare at him. "I would like that, yeah. Is it just me or do these Visa issues take longer each time?" He sighs and leans in, kissing him on the lips.
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Wade mumbles, holding him close. "But I always come back, yeah?"
"Yeah, you do, which is good, 'cause otherwise I'd never forgive ya." And although Heath sounds playful, there's a tinge of seriousness in his eyes that causes the Brit to make a face, stroking his fingers against the edges of his sideburns.
"Well, we can't have that." Wade smiles at him, shaking his head.
"No we can't," Heath mumbles, resting back against Wade's chest. "You won't like me when I'm angry." The older man's laughter rumbling against Heath makes him laugh as well, pressing a kiss to his neck. "I'm trying to be serious."
"And it's always bloody hilarious when you do," Wade teases him.
"Why does everyone say that? I can be tough when I want to be." This only makes Barrett laugh harder and Heath sits up, frustrated, staring down at him. "Stop laughing, or I swear to God, Brit-"
"Swear to God, what, Ginger?" Wade demands, tugging him back down to kiss him again as Heath settles against him more comfortably, Wade swallowing his soft sigh. "I thought so."
"Aw, shut up." Heath rolls his eyes as Wade laughs, his kisses trailing down to his chin due to it. "Pfft, jerk." Heath tries to get up and leave but Wade moves faster and grabs him, holding him closer.
"Where exactly do you think you're going?" he asks, trailing his hands along Heath's back. "We still have hours ahead of us with nothing to do, so you are staying right here to keep me company."
"Oh, am I now?" Heath sneers, leaning into him. "Well, I suppose if I must..." He traces circles against Wade's flesh as he settles in against him again, finally allowing himself to get lost in Wade's touch and kiss.
But Friday goes badly again, Heath's happiness fading away as quickly as it'd come when 3MB lose a six-man match on Smackdown. Worse than that, however, their jackets are stolen by PrimeTime Players and R-Truth. Wade watches with a grim look on his face, sighing as 3MB struggle backstage, Heath's head lowered as Drew and Jinder walk on either side of him. "Dammit," he breathes, leaning against Wade's chest as soon as he walks up to him.
"It's alright," he mumbles, realizing abruptly how wrong the gear does look without the jacket. "We'll fix this, we'll get your jackets back."
"I thought you'd have been happy to see them gone," Heath responds lowly, barely opening his eyes as Wade leads him back to the locker room once more. "You hated 'em."
Wade doesn't respond for a long moment, waiting until they're safely inside the locker room, Heath settled down on a bench, running his fingers through his hair, when Wade kneels down in front of him, resting a hand on his knees and critically examining the design on the tights between his fingers. "I mocked it at first, true, but somewhere along the way, I suppose between how happy it made you, and how much it suited you... it isn't that terrible. Ridiculous, yes, but terrible, no."
"You always know how to make a guy feel good," Heath mumbles, smiling vaguely. He knows that, for Wade, that's as close as he'll ever get to say that he'd changed his mind on something, anything. "I knew you'd grow to like 'em, Brit." Barrett rolls his eyes skyward as Heath grips his face and pulls him closer, kissing him. "So, about finding those jackets... I'd like to at least have 'em back before the next European tour..."
"Oh, bollocks, are you really going to do this every time you're here?" he asks, staring into Heath's mischevious eyes and barely able to find any illwill towards this idea as Heath nods. "Bloody hell," he grouses with absolutely no malice held in the words.
"You said yourself, I look good in 'em, so why not?" Heath's grin is wide and bright as the sun, and it's hard for Wade not to smile in return as he shakes his head in exasperation, leaning in to kiss him to maintain control over his words and expressions.
"Using my words against me, hmph," he sighs, pulling away. "Get some street clothes on, we'll start looking for your jackets so I don't have to listen to you complaining about this all night. We don't have that much time left in Europe, after all."
Heath looks a little sad at this, rubbing circles against Wade's knuckles. "Yeah... I hope your Visa issues are wrapped up soon."
Wade nods. "Soon, Ginger. But let's not think about it, make the most of the time we do have."
He grins again, though it looks a little forced. "Yeah, sounds good to me, Brit."
As he moves away to get ready so they can start the search, Wade leans back against the wall and watches him wander around collecting things. "Mm hmm, sounds good to me too," he mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest to wait, his lips twitching upwards into a small smile.
