Title: Proud
Pairing: Wade Barrett/Drew McIntyre
Rating: K
Summary: Sometimes, Drew just needs to hear that somebody cares.
Disclaimer: I don't own shit.
Author's Note: Little almost drabble thing I wrote for a really close friend one night. Hope you enjoy. =)
Warnings: Short!fic is short.
Drew's whole body aches from his match with Sin Cara. He wishes that for once, they could put him in a match with someone who's not going to fuck up every single move, make him hurt for hours afterward. He let out a soft sigh, though, figures he can't be too picky these days; a match is a match. Still, he can't help but feel a bit awful at the jokes of matches he's getting. Just as he's lying down, however, his phone rings, and he snatches it up off the bedside table without looking.
"Why, good evening, beautiful." Wade's voice pours through the phone, and it brings a soft smile to Drew's face for the first time today. If he closes his eyes, it almost feels like his boyfriend is actually there, and not just a sultry sound drifting through the speaker. "How are you doing, my love?"
"Sore," Drew answers honestly, can't even help it. A bit of spite in his tone, he says, "Botch Cara really did a number on me."
"Ah, yes. I saw that. I'd give him a swift boot to the head if I were there, just for you. And you a massage, of course." the older adds, and Drew laughs, blushes. Wade continues, though, "You looked wonderful, though, Drew. I'm so proud of you."
And suddenly, it doesn't really make a difference to him what match he's in. As long as Wade keeps saying that, he could be in matches with Vickie Guerrero for all he cares (though, please, he silently prays, don't take that seriously). Now, as Drew settles into bed, gets comfortable and prepares to talk to his lover, he does so with a smile on his face. Wade's proud of him, and that's all that matters.