Again, huge thanks to@justkillingtimewhileiwait for her beta’ing help :)
Thank you to everyone who is reading too, and all of the feedback! <3 Please let me know what you think again - I seriously love reading all your thoughts. It truly makes my day.
If you have any prompts off this list you’d like me to write, just message me! (That list is also a master post for all the prompts I’ve so far :))
“...and then in a few weeks’ times, the Hawks are gonna lift the Cup with all three of us right there watching. Maybe I'll feel generous and invite your Uncle Will too,” Jay explained to his son in the one-sided conversation they were currently having whilst carefully trying to get his little feet into the equally little shoes whilst he was distracted by his talking. “I’m going to make sure you have all the best stories to tell when you grow up.”
The seven-month-old sat obediently on the couch dressed in a tiny Blackhawks shirt with ‘Halstead’ printed on the back, jeans and the cutest Hawks hat he had ever seen planted backwards on his head just like his daddy whilst Jay knelt in front of him to complete the task at hand. It didn’t help Sammy preferred to grab at his father’s hat or his own socks when possible, though with some diversion tactics of tickling or pressing kisses to his hands as Jay pried them away, he finally got him ready.
“There, all done!” Jay announced with extra enthusiasm, revelling in the way Sammy clapped and laughed back, dimples that were a mirror of his mother’s curving into his cheeks, and babbled what he swore was something that almost sounded like ‘Dada’. Sighing contently, he held the child securely by the waist and slid him forward on the couch. “God, you're just too adorable. How did I get so lucky with you, baby boy?”
“Are you sure taking a seven-month-old to a hockey game is a good idea? It’s pretty cold in there,” Erin called out from their bedroom, repeating the worries she had been voicing for the past three days.
“That’s why we're all prepared to be bundled up, aren't we, Sammy?” Jay replied lightly, pulling close the diaper bag to check one final time that he had carefully packed the cardigan, scarf and a beanie hat in case they needed it. Earmuffs had been thrown in to protect their baby from the cold as well as the loud noises. Jay had even folded and added the super-soft Blackhawks baby blanket they had received as a gift from Sergeant Platt. Erin’s worries hadn’t gone unheard, and even he had to admit that her concerns weren’t just new-mom jitters. Satisfied, he zipped it up and stood up, hoisting Sammy into the air as he did to make the excited baby squeal in delight. “Besides, he’s a winter baby. He’s used to the cold.”
“I don’t think that’s quite how it works,” Erin remarked dryly as she entered the room, dressed in an outfit that matched both her husband and her son. Jay wasn’t sure when they had become that kind of family, but he could definitely understand the appeal of seeing her in a shirt with his name on the back. Not that anyone would see it outside their apartment because, for all the years she had lived in Chicago, Erin did not handle the cold well. “What?” she asked in confusion when she caught him staring at her.
“Wow, you look... amazing,” he replied empathically, eyes roaming her entire form; from her ankle boot covered feet, over her tight, hip-hugging jeans and to the loose top which was tied at the waist to give it some shape.
Erin scoffed at his compliment, walking past them and just managing to avoid Sammy trying to grab onto her ponytail to retrieve her beloved leather jacket when where it hung by the front door. “I’m wearing your old Hawks shirt, Jay. My own doesn’t fit because of these,” she paused to point at her breasts, rolling her eyes when he smirked at her drawing his attention to them, “which apparently do not go back to the way they were pre-pregnancy despite what people tell you. I can’t look that great.”
“You pull it off well,” Jay argued before sighing in resignation as the thought that he wouldn’t be the only one that day to think so occurred to him. “Too well, actually. The boobs probably help.”
Shaking her head at his adoring ridiculousness, Erin approached them by the couch once again to take in how cute her son looked. “At least we all match,” she offered, running a hand up Sammy’s tummy to tickle him gently and earning herself a peal of giggles in return as he tried to unsuccessfully squirm away in his father’s arms.
“That we do,” Jay agreed, hitching Sammy higher so they were cheek-to-cheek. “Doesn’t Mommy look hot?”
Gasping incredulously, she shoved him in the opposite shoulder to where he held their son, eyes flitting over to him in warning. “Jay!”
“Fine; beautiful,” he rectified, leaning in to kiss her to the audience of their clapping child. “See, he agrees.”
“He doesn’t know what you’re saying, do you, sweetie?” Erin countered with a laugh, taking Sammy by his proffered arms as he reached over for her, babbling away in his baby talk in what both parents assumed was his way to grab her attention. “Alright, c’mon. Let’s get this show on the road.”
“The Halstead family’s first hockey game. This is gonna be awesome!” he exclaimed, grabbing the diaper bag by the couch and the keys from the bowl by the front door before following her out, making sure it was locked securely behind them.
“They better not lose,” she commented as she allowed Sammy to call for the elevator, pulling him away when he continued to slap at the button with amusement.
“Lose?! Please,” Jay scoffed with a smirk, flicking Sammy’s hat gently and laughing when his little hands reached up in confusion with what had happened. “We’ve got all the luck we need on our side. We’re going all the way this year.”
Erin sighed dramatically, taking Sammy’s hands and lowering them as they stepped into the elevator. “Please don’t turn out like your daddy. Mommy needs some sanity in the household.”
Pouting, Jay huffed until he felt a tiny hand press against his mouth, causing him to smile at his son’s version of comfort. Kissing the small palm, he took the hand in his own and met Erin’s affectionate smile with one of his own. “You wouldn’t want me any other way.”
Shrugging nonchalantly, she shook her head and rested it lightly against her son’s. “Well, most of the time.”
