Wade grumbles under his breath as he tries to figure out the chords to the newest song he's trying to practice. It's not easy, between his traveling, and Heath's more open schedule, and the pets, and... just everything, but he's trying, because this is supposed to be part of Heath's Christmas gift, and he's just frustrated by it. It's not an easy song to play, and the puppy that Heath had insisted on getting is rambunctious and getting into everything, which means Wade has to be very careful with where he puts his guitars and other equipment. This is one of his rare moments of solitude because Heath had taken the puppy out for a vet visit, which means it's Wade and their house all to himself.
He closes his eyes, tries to let the song flow through him, but it doesn't- he keeps hitting the wrong chords, resting his fingers in the wrong spots. It sounds wrong, nothing at all like it's supposed to. He's about to take the guitar and slam it against the wall out of frustration when he hears Heath's car pull up and he immediately freezes, holding his breath. Shifts his fingers to other chords, begins to play a song Heath knows, one that he's gotten pretty good at playing. It won't help him in learning the correct song by Christmas, but it'll at least keep Heath off of his trail long enough for him to hopefully try to figure it out again.
He's just gotten to the chorus when Heath walks in, the puppy scampering around at his feet. As soon as the little guy spots Wade, he scampers towards him. "Heath," Wade warns him, glowering down at the puppy.
"Aw, don't Heath me, it's not my fault he loves you. Despite how mean you are to him." Heath sticks a tongue out and leans down, unhooking the puppy from his leash. "There ya go, go to Papa Wade."
"I'm not Papa anything," Wade grouses, exhaling roughly at the puppy as he noses around his shoes, up his pant leg. "Dammit, that's cold," he huffs as the dog presses against his ankles.
"Just pick 'im up, he just wants some love," Heath says, rolling his eyes as he watches Wade glower at the little dog.
"He gets enough of that from you," Wade grouses, trying to return to plucking at the guitar. He's not in a great mood over failing yet again at figuring the holiday song, and this interruption wasn't exactly welcome. "Why are you both home so early from the vet anyway?"
Heath's frown grows. "We were gone about an hour," he says. "Doc says this little guy is doin' great, so he gave 'im some treats and told me to just keep doin' what we're doin'."
Wade makes a huffing noise, quirking an eyebrow at them. "Well, I guess there's only so much that can go wrong with a pipsqueak of a dog like that anyway."
The puppy whines then and Heath frowns harder at Wade. "You know what? He don't need insultin', man. He's just a baby, you're always so mean to 'im." Heath presses a kiss to the puppy's forehead. "You asked me a couple weeks ago what I wanted for Christmas? Well, there ya have it. I want you to be nice to the damn dog. ok? That's all." He turns his back on Wade and heads to the kitchen. "C'mon, bet you're thirsty."
Wade looks helplessly down at his guitar. They had talked at length about getting the dog- how Wade was a cat person, how Boodah was the only exception to that rule and even that had been hard fought and not something Wade wants to relive, and now that Heath was ready to love a new pet, he had had to decide if it was worth making him even sadder or just... give in. Let him be happy.
Wade closes his eyes and exhales hard, hating the turn his thoughts are taking. Yes, learning to play this stupid song for Heath would make him happy for the duration of the song, and maybe off and on for the next couple of days. But swallowing down his temper and his preferences and actually listening to Heath and accepting the little bratty dog as an official part of their family? That would make Heath happy for... well, for a very, very long time.
"Bloody hell," he sighs, dropping his head back and closing his eyes. "Fine. Fine. I'll grow to love the damned dog." He shakes his head. "The things I do for that man."
Vowing to find another time, another place, another way to learn this song properly, he puts his guitar away and heads out into the kitchen to try to figure out the best way to start being kind to the puppy.