"Brit!" Heath calls from the bathroom, rushing out with an excited look on his face. "Guess what?!"
"What?" Wade sighs, looking up from the wrestling gear that he's trying to prepare for the event a few hours away, unsurprised when Heath all but jumps into his arms. "Ginger, what the bloody hell-"
"Tool! Tool wants to perform a private concert for the members of 3MB!" He releases a rough, slightly manic laugh. "Can you believe it? I've always loved Tool!" He releases a loud whooping sound before running back into the bathroom, making a ridiculous amount of noise for one man as he seemingly tears apart the room, looking for something special to wear for such a thing.
Wade shakes his head and approaches, not wanting to lose out on the deposit should Heath damage something. He watches, perplexed, as Heath tries one shirt on, shakes his head, and moves onto the next. "You look fine," he says when Heath's looking down at his favorite flannel shirt.
"Maybe," he says doubtfully. "But fine isn't enough..." He continues digging through his clothes, still failing to find anything that pleases him. "Dammit," he sighs, giving up and staring down at a blue and white striped shirt. "You think this is the best I've got with me currently?"
"Yes," Wade responds impatiently, never minding watching Heath try on different clothes until the man starts to doubt himself, his appearance, and whatever else. "Maynard James Keenan will be fine with it, and if he's not, they do say he's more than a bit weird."
Heath gapes at him for a moment, then laughs, swatting at his arm. "Insulting Maynard, wow," he drawls. "Long as you don't do that to his face... wanna come to the performance? I can sneak ya in, I'm sure."
"A plus one to a private performance?" Wade shakes his head, smirking slightly as he watches Heath examine himself in the mirror again. "I'll pass." As Heath purses his lips at him, the Brit walks up behind him and looks his reflection over, head to toe. "That's always been a good look for you," he offers, trying to ease some of Heath's visible nerves.
"Yeah?" he wonders, frowning at himself for a moment before Wade quietly hands him a hair tie, Heath's eyes brightening as he quickly ties his hair up into a ponytail.
"Of course, would I say it if it wasn't true?" he asks, wrapping his arms around Heath's waist and resting his chin on the shorter man's shoulder, smirking
Heath hums, shrugging slightly. "This is true, you are painfully honest," he mutters, leaning back into Wade's embrace. "Alright, I'll trust you. But if this looks bad in pictures, I'll never forgive you."
"Right," Wade breathes, tilting his head to kiss Heath's neck and feeling as he melts even more against him. "As if that's ever been possible."
"Bad pictures, or my not being able to forgive you?" he breathes, twisting around in Wade's arms to kiss him properly on the lips.
"Either," the Brit tells him, his lips twitching up into a soft smile when Heath's eyes gleam with pleasure.
A few hours later, Wade recoils slightly as a phone is thrust in front of his face, held too close in front of his eyes for him to observe much much than a blur of color. Gripping the wrist holding the phone os frustratingly, he shifts it so he can actually see the screen, a soft laugh coming from his lips as he takes in, 3MB standing with members of Tool, holding guitars and drum sticks, Heath looking almost painfully happy, his fashion crisis clearly forgotten once he'd actually arrived there and the private show had begun. Tugging again on the hand, Wade pulls Heath around until he sits down next to him on the bench, smirking down at him.
"You can say it," Heath says, cycling through a couple of more photos.
"Say what?"
"That you were right. The clothes were fine. And the show was amazin'."
Wade huffs out another laugh and shakes his head, kissing the top of Heath's head. Pulling back to stare into the confused eyes peering up at him, he explains, "Why tell you something you already know? Just as long as you don't doubt my expertise again in the future..."
"Yessir, Lord Barrett," Heath says, only a little mockingly. "Because you're a ginger expert..." He takes a deep breath as Wade's fingers brush down his face, his eyes fluttering. "Ok, ya are," he concedes, leaning up to kiss Wade. "Thanks for helpin' me earlier."
"Any time," Wade murmurs. "Lord Barrett, hm? I like the sounds of it..." Ignoring Heath's muffled complaints, he kisses him into silence, smirking against the other man's lips.