A/N: So I recently bought a Yankees’ cap (why? ‘Cause I’ve always liked the New York Yankees even though I don’t really follow baseball) and I feel like this would be how Chris would react if his girl wore anything that didn’t celebrate his Bostonian roots. I’m doing this as a part two to the first play fight one, where they 'argued’ about the Patriots jersey Y/N had on.
“Can you hurry it up?” Chris called from the front door as you finished your smoothie in the kitchen. “I know it’s only nine, but it’s quite a drive and I don’t know what traffic’s going to be like.” You made some noise with your mouth full to tell him you’d heard him. “Tick tock, Y/N!” He called louder, trying not to laugh when he heard you make a frustrated sound with your throat. “We don’t have all day!”
You and Chris were driving to the other side of town to pick up a gift for your best friend’s baby shower which was in a few days. You’d ordered the top of the market baby stroller she’d been talking about for a while now; it was in the exact same baby blue color she’d painted her nursery, as well as engraved with the name her and her husband had chosen for their first born son. It was the perfect gift, the only problem was that instead of having it delivered- you’d accidentally chose the option to pick it up yourself at the branch on the other side of town. You’d tried to correct your mistake, but it was too late- your personalized stroller was waiting for you three and a half hours away. You were lucky your husband loved you and your best friend as much as he did otherwise you would’ve had a huge mess on your hands. He offered to drive, turning the mistake into a fun road trip instead.
“I’m coming!” You called back with a frown as you washed your glass. “We’ve still got plenty of time. Even with traffic, we’re going to make it. The store doesn’t close till eight, so can you just relax?” You grabbed your phone and cap, tugging it over you head as you made your way to the front door.
“Honest to God, you’re such a-” He cut himself off when he saw you. His jaw dropped and he stared at you with absolute horror, “oh my God.” His comment made your eyes narrow in confusion. You were about to ask what he was going on about when he asked, “what the hell is on your head?”
“Um…” Your eyes darted up towards your cap. “A cap?” You’d completely forgotten you’d grabbed the Yankees hat Sebastian gave you for your birthday, the one Chris had made you swore you’d never wear because it was a 'betrayal’ to him and your marriage; he was an extremist, that one. “I don’t under-”
“You’re fucking wearing a Yankees cap,” he cut you off with a chuckle. “Seriously?” He asked as you confirmed his accusation. “Are we seriously going to do this again?” He tried not to smile when he remembered how the last play fight went; you’d worn a Falcons jersey courtesy of Octavia Spencer and you’d both ended up in the pool. “Take it off.” He told you when you’d tugged it back over your head. “We’re not going anywhere with you in that piece of trash.”
“Okay,” you laughed. “You need to calm down, mister. This was a birthday present from Seb and it’s one of my most comfortable caps. So no, I am not going to take it off because you can’t handle seeing merchandise from teams that aren’t yours.” He pressed his lips tightly together, squinting at you evilly. “Let’s go, weren’t you worried we weren’t going to make it in time?”
“Yes, but I can’t take you anywhere in that hat.”
“Chris,” you laughed and pinching his face in one of your hands. He tried not to laugh as you squished his cheeks, “it’s only cute when I’m in the mood. I’m not changing my hat, okay?” He scrunched his nose at you and you chuckled. “What’s wrong with the Yankees anyway?” You quizzed as you dropped your hand. “They’re a good team.”
“How. Dare. You?” He punctuated each word, emphasizing his shock and horror.
“Let’s just go, you dork.” You slipped your hand in his and pulled a laughing him out of the front door. “I don’t even know why you’re so offended.” You told him as he locked the front door; he glanced back at you with a face that said it all, making you laugh. “It’s not like I support the team, I don’t even like sports.”
“She says to her husband who is a sports fanatic,” he said monotonously in a teasing manner; you laughed. “It’s offensive because you’re married to a Bostonian and you should be supporting The Patriots and The Red Socks.” You rolled your eyes at that. “Just so you know, my mom would kill you if she saw that on your head.”
“She has and she didn’t.” You told him as you walked towards the car. His eyes narrowed because he didn’t believe you, and you teased him as you both got into the car, “not everyone is as petty as you, Evans.”
“True, but I know my mom and she’s as petty as me.” That wasn’t true. “C'mon, where do you think I get it from?” He joked as he turned the key in the ignition; the engine purred. “We got into a huge argument after I had to wear a Yankees hat for Nanny Diaries. Huge,” he emphasized, “Y/N.”
“That’s a fake story,” you laughed and he bit back his smile as he pulled the car out of the driveway. “You may be able to trick interviewers, Christopher.” He chuckled as he took your hand in his, bringing it to his lips. “But I’m your wife and I know everything about you.”
“Then you should know not to wear that hat,” he mumbled into your skin and you yanked your hand away, rolling your eyes. “God.” You both burst out laughing when you caught each others’ gazes. “You’re lucky I love you more than I hate that team.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed.
“About as ridiculous as you in that hat.”
“Oh my God,” you laughed harder, causing the corners of your eyes to crinkle which made Chris smile. “Are you honestly that annoyed by this hat?” You asked and he nodded. “Okay,” you chuckled. “If were wearing said hat when we first met, would you have approached me?”
“I’d like to say yes,” he winced and you laughed. “But the answer’s probably not.”
“So you would’ve been willing to miss out on this incredible life all because of a hat?”
“Funny,” he glanced at you with a cheeky grin, “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”
“Once again,” you shook your head, laughing, “you’re ridiculous.”
“I know,” he chuckled and you smiled. His ridiculous and childish behavior was part of his incredible charm; you’d never fallen for him if he wasn’t exactly the way he was. “Now aren’t you glad we met at a fancy Vanity Fair party where tasteless caps weren’t part of the dress code?”
“Goooooood,” you groaned loudly and he joined in. Both of you were trying not to laugh as you feigned annoyance because you both found your partner and everything they did adorable. “I should have never married you, Chris Evans.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding. “But it’s too late now,” he winked as he wiggled his ring finger. His platinum band shimmered under the sunlight and you felt the smile on your lips grow even wider. You’d been together for four and a half years now, yet you still woke up each morning feeling like you were living in your wildest, happiest dreams. He took your hand, squeezing it tightly before entwining his fingers with yours. “You’re stuck with me, kid,” he said with a handsome grin.
“Bummer,” you teased, winking. “But hey, since we’re stuck with each other- Let me make things a little easier on you. You don’t like seeing this hat on me, right?” He made his 'duh’ face and you laughed as you pulled it off and placed it in your lap, straightening your hair with your free hand. “Well I love my husband and I don’t want to upset him, so- I’ll oblige.”
“Thank you,” he smiled.
“But I still need a hat, so-” you pulled his NASA cap from his head and he chuckled as you put it on yours. “But then-” you tried not to smile too wide as the hand in his tightened its grip, and the other prepared to yank Chris’ worst enemy on his head. “So do you.” You saw Chris realize what was happening before it happened; his eyes widened and he shook his head. “Ah, perfect.” You tugged it onto his head and he almost lost control of the car. “My handsome Yankees man. Navy blue suits you, baby,” you teased.
“Are you insane? Don’t do that while I’m driving, I could’ve gotten us killed.” He laughed when you did. “My instant reflex is to slap that piece of shit off my head,” he told you and you laughed harder. “Okay,” he chuckled. “You’ve had your fun, now get it off my head. You go ahead and wear it all you want, but don’t make me wear it. I swear it’s like burning my skin.” That comment made your stomach hurt from laughing too much. “Y/N, I’m serious!” He tried not to laugh but he couldn’t help himself. “Give me-” he tried to pull his hand from your grip but you tightened it. “Give me my hand!”
“No,” you giggled. “I like you in that cap, you look so dignified.”
“You’re going to get it when we get home,” he playfully warned with a smirk.
“You promise?” You bit your lower lip, smirking as flirtatiously as he was.
As a kid, getting my number retired by the Yankees wasn’t something I thought about even in my wildest dreams. I can’t even put into words how much it means. To have my family and all the guys here just made it even more special. Thank you to New York and the Yankees organization for this incredible honor.