Once Heath returns to the road, Wade agrees to spend some of his free time between rehab sessions going up to Canada for an expo to discuss WWE 2K15, have a meet'n'greet, things of that nature. The flight back to Florida is tiring and he stares blankly at his phone once he's settled back in their apartment, surprised to find videos of Heath waiting for him. "Wait, they let him sing?" It's not until he reads the rest of the tweet that he almost drops his phone. "With Cena?! What the bloody hell is going on?"
He plays the video with a twinge of trepidation- after everything Heath's been going through, one more humiliation is the absolute last thing he needs right now- and swallows when he realizes Heath actually sounds decent. He's not overexaggerating his tonedeafness, he's just singing normally, and it's not bad. Cena's voice mixes in there sometimes but Wade studiously ignores him, watching Heath as he takes in his hometown's response to his singing. "What do you know," Wade murmurs, lips twitching up into a proud smirk.
He plays it for Boodah and the dog's ears perk up as he recognizes his owner's voice, his eyes lighting up. Wade watches and wonders how often Heath has sung to him over the years, normally, like this, and not like he would in the WWE ring. Chuckling lowly, Wade leans over and pats Boodah's head until he settles back in to fall asleep, eyes blinking slowly with each stroke of Wade's long fingers.
Once the dog's asleep and Wade's heading there himself, he calls Heath, half expecting to have to leave a message if Heath's on the road. Thus, he's jerked awake when the phone actually stops ringing and Heath greets him cheerfully, "Hullo, Brit. You're still awake?"
"Yes, I don't want to risk falling asleep and reliving the nightmare of my boyfriend serenading John Cena of all things."
Heath laughs. "I wasn't serenadin' him, good God, man." He hesitates. "You thought I sounded ok, huh? Normally my singin' would bring along a different kinda nightmare for ya."
"When you're not being overly ridiculous, you sound almost tolerable," Wade allows. "Either way, the crowd liked the effort you put into it."
"Always such a charmer," Heath smirks. "Maybe when I come home, I'll sing it specially for you."
Wade closes his eyes. "I suppose I could survive that," he says, his yearning to have Heath back in his arms obvious. "Soon, yeah?"
"Yeah, couple'a days. Sooner if I'm not booked for anythin' with Smackdown." Heath pauses. "I miss you too, Brit."
"Sooner you're home, sooner Boodah stops looking so miserable," Wade brushes off his response, smirking when Heath chuckles.
"Sure, always blame my dog. Look, we're about at the hotel and you sound wiped out yourself. I'll call at some point tomorrow, kay? 'Night Brit."
"Alright. Good night, ginger." Wade hangs up and stares at the ceiling for awhile, missing WWE. Missing traveling with Heath. Missing everything that comes with it.
He sighs.