Raw for once had been decent for both of them. Heath and Drew had beat Los Matadores and Wade had beat RVD to become #1 contender for the Intercontinental title. They're both sore- Heath because El Torito had plancha'd all three of them after the tag match, and Wade just because RVD is a stiff competitor- but neither seem to mind as they make their way back to the hotel. Wins are a luxury in this business, more for some than others, so Heath doesn't want to waste this moment on ice and sleep, immediately grabbing Wade's arm and tugging him into the bar before he can pull away to hide in their hotel room and think.
"What the bloody hell are you doing, ginger?" he demands, smirking slightly as Heath tugs with all of his might just to get Wade over the threshold.
"I wanna have a drink," he says. "To celebrate. It ain't often we both win in one show, after all!" Wade sighs, giving in and allowing Heath to push him into a bench before going off to the bar to order a couple of beers. It's not his usual late night activity but Heath looks so pleased with himself that he gives in, swayed by the ginger's happy grin. "Cheers."
Wade rolls his eyes but clicks his bottle to Heath's anyway, relieved that it's not an entirely awful brand of beer as he downs some. American beers would never compete with British ones, but it's still better than nothing.
"We should do this more often," Heath says, sloshing his beer around and watching it froth up inside of the dark tinted glass.
"You should win more often," Wade says without thinking, cringing as he realizes what he'd just said, Heath looking wounded for a moment before trying to school his expression back into stoic indifference. "Ginger, I-"
Heath shrugs and takes an almost angry swig of his beer. "It's fine, I know I'm a loser. Whatever." They sit in silence for awhile, Heath purposely keeping his eye off of Wade as he downs his beer. "I'm gettin' outta here," Heath mumbles once his beer is empty but before he can walk away from the booth, Wade grabs his hand and draws back in, cupping his face and kissing him deeply.
Wade's not much for PDA of any sort, more than content to keep any affection between them to the privacy of their hotel rooms and the apartment, but it had been a dirty move, a thoughtless thing to say, and this is the only way he can think to keep Heath from storming off in a fit of anger. "I'm sorry," he mumbles: another rarity from him.
Heath sighs and grips his collar, tugging a little rougher than is necessary. "Asshole."
"I know." Wade stares into Heath's eyes, watching as the anger dissipates. "Are you still mad at me?"
Heath rolls his eyes. "I guess not." He pouts a little until Wade kisses him again. "Ok, ok, fine. Don't exceed your own quota of public kisses now." He briskly pats Wade's chest before sitting back, looking close to content. "Finish your beer, let's get outta here."
Wade nods, running his finger around the rim of his beer innocently as he reaches under the table and finds Heath's hand, squeezing it. "I do love you, you know. Win or lose."
"Yeah. I know. I love you too, injured or whole." A meaningful glance passes between them and Heath coughs, smirking. "You done?"
"Yes."
"Then let's go." They pay for their beers and walk side by side to the elevator, Wade smiling faintly as Heath leans into him while they wait for the car to reach the ground floor.