Wade's day hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped it would when he woke up that morning. First, Heath, Drew and Jinder had insisted on holding a party in the locker room before Raw because it was their 500th day of being a trio, which had involved a lot of bad singing and ridiculous air guitar and scared off most everyone in the general vicinity, shattering Wade's focus in the meanwhile. Then, once his ears stopped ringing enough for him to go out on his podium and announce more bad news to the general population, Jerry "The King" Lawler had found it prudent to stand up, interrupt and tell Barrett that maybe he wouldn't be here next week.
A pathetic insult, if that's what one would call it, but even so, Wade hadn't been able to shake the words for the rest of the night. Even 3MB's racuous party of three continuing on into the late night hours hadn't distracted him from his heavy thoughts. After all, it had only been a few months earlier that he had been stuck in England, fighting to get his visa renewed so he could return to America. To Heath, and his career. Dark blue eyes track Heath as he laughs and throws chips at Jinder, who looks affronted when he fails at catching them in his mouth each and every time.
Finally 3MB tires themselves out and Heath waves farewell at Drew and Jinder as they leave for their own hotel room, Heath's orange hair cascading against Wade's chest as he lays down next to him on the bed, curling his fingers around the Brit's hand. "That was fun," he mumbles. "Five hundred days... kinda incredible, huh?" Wade tries to think of a response but fails, watching as Heath falls into a doze. "Thanks for bein' patient with us, Brit. 'Ni-night."
Heath crashes hard within moments and Barrett closes his eyes, not wanting to imagine a life where he is "not here next week" but knowing that at some point, it could happen. His visa not renewed, his contract with WWE terminated, anything that would send him back to England and keep him from seeing Heath ever again... He releases a faint breath and sits up, easing Heath back down on the pillows before he stands up and goes to sit at the desk, the lamp shining faintly as he stares at the cherry red wood beneath his fingers. He's pretty sure it's just more deluded mumblings from The King, but still, it had awoke his paranoia.
He's not sure how long he's been sitting there, trapped in these thoughts, when he hears the bed creak and Heath shuffle around, mumbling, "Wade?" Footsteps approach him and sleep-warm arms wrap around him, drawing him against Heath's chest. "What're you doin' over here? Can't sleep?" Uncoordinated, sleepy kisses against his nose and forehead follow and he smiles faintly, unable to resist Heath's charm, especially when he's just awoke and looks so young, his dark brown eyes wide and deep. "You ok?"
Wade hums and draws Heath over, settling him on his lap so he doesn't trip over his own feet- or the wheels of the chair- and kill himself, wrapping his arms loosely around his midsection. "I'm fine, just thinking." Wade sighs as Heath's hands brush up and down his arms, the two of them sitting there quietly for a moment while Wade absorbs Heath's warmth, feeling moderately better already, his worries easing away somewhat.
"Is this because of what King said?" Heath asks abruptly, surprising Wade with how well he knows him, and understands what's eating him despite his best attempt to keep it internalized. "I saw the look on your face, and you were really quiet the rest of the night, just watchin' me and the boys' antics with a similar expression. If I didn't know better, I'da said you looked really kinda sad." He yawns slightly and rests his head back against Wade's shoulder, staring at what of his expression he can see from this angle. "You still do." He continues stroking the older man's arm and smiles. "Y'know if somethin' happened, and you did get sent back to England or somethin', I'd definitely find a way to come see ya. Visa issues ain't held us back before, they wouldn't start now. You know that, right?"
"I suppose," he mumbles, holding Heath a little tighter. "I don't want to think about how it would be, to get deported out of here permanently... I've... started to think of this place as something of a home, even though I do still cherish England... If I had to leave, I suppose I'd rather it be my choice than just because of visa issues... I know you were wondering when, if, I'd ever get it sorted out enough to come back to America this last time. It does seem to take longer each time, and Lawler's comments aren't exactly comforting..."
Heath nods grimly and leans up to kiss Wade again, this time on the side of his neck. "Yeah, but we made it through, like we always do'n'always will. Don't start doubtin' things just 'cause of some old man's random comments. Nothin'll come of it anyway, your visa's fine for another couple'a years." Squirming free of Wade's arms, he gets to his feet and holds his hand out towards the Brit. "Now c'mon, dunno about you but I'd rather get some sleep before Drew'n'Jinder wanna pick up where we left off celebratin' our big milestone and all." Wade's eyes narrow at him and he laughs, shaking his head fondly at him. "Kiddin', kiddin'... I think. Possibly..." He sputters in protest when Wade takes his hand and pulls himself up, just to swat Heath's side as he turns towards the bed. "Hey! Man, what the hell-"
His words drift as Wade cups his face and kisses him, smirking against his lips. When he pulls away, his eyes are soft and gleaming with affection for the infuriating, loyal man before him. "Thank you, Ginger. I don't doubt that if anyone could find a way to infiltrate England, it'd be you."
"Damn straight," Heath sighs, his momentary aggravation fading away as Wade pushes him onto the bed and settles down next to him, pulling him close and hugging him. They're both fast asleep within minutes, King's ridiculous statement now forgotten.