HAPPY BIRTHDAY JORDAN!!

Today is a special day (AKA Jordan Staal's Birthday)!!! I had a request for this one, and I couldn't resist... I LOVE YOU, JORDY!! Rest that foot!!

Name: Jordan Staal

DOB: September 10, 1988

Current NHL Team: Pittsburgh Penguins

Location: Your place

Date/Time: right before hockey season/NOW, even if you’re reading this at three in the morning, I’ll make it work

“GRONK!” You yell at the gorgeous blonde man who opens the door. “Happy Birthday!” As soon as he realizes it’s you, Jordan squeezes you into the tightest bear hug. It’s been at least a month since you’ve seen him, he’s been in Thunder Bay with his family the whole summer. You’ve really missed him, and he’s missed you. The last time you saw him, he was being helped

You told Jordy that you’d like him to come to your place tonight, and that you’d pick him up around eight. Here you are, and there he is, staring at you mesmorizingly. You were just so excited to see him again, you never expected him to be using crutches and a walking boot. But it’s pretty easy to look past the obvious when you’re thinking about Jordan Staal.to the locker room during game 1 of round two of the Stanley Cup Playoffs [against the Habs]. You weren’t allowed to see Jordan during or after the game, even though you had a pass. The trainers were never this strict, so you expected that whatever happened to Jordy was pretty serious. It was. Unbelievably, he came back 3 games later, which, of course, backfired. He was back in town for a re-evaluation of his foot, and to find out whether or not he could start training camp, let alone the season.

“Jordan! I didn’t realize you were that hurt. You’re still on crutches?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “It’s not mandatory, but I wanna be careful, y’know? I really want to play as soon as possible.” He looked down at his injured foot and his smile immediately faded. For a moment, his eyes completely focused on the ground, and he seemed to be in a whole other place. “Uh, let’s go now.”

Jordan looked back up and led the way to your car. It took him at least five minutes to fit the crutches through the tiny door. Frustrated, he finally throws them in the back seat and slams the door shut. With a sigh, he leaned back and put his hands over his face.

“You okay, Jordy?” You turn to him as you start the engine. He peeks over at you through his fingers and mutters “just drive.” On the way home, he turns the radio up as loud as it can go. It’s a bit distracting, but not as distracting as the man to your right.

When you arrive home, you get the crutches out of the back seat and hand them to Jordan when he steps out of the tiny car. He grabs them from you, gives you the death glare, and lets himself into your house. You lock the door behind you and turn around to see Gronk plop down on the sofa and throw the crutches at the floor. He usually comes here to see you after home games, and you’ve seen him upset, but this was completely new.

“Okay,” You took the seat next to him. “What’s going on?” Jordan had the TV on, but you snatch the remote and switch it off. He kicked his feet up onto the side of the couch, wincing in pain when his right foot landed. You pull him back by his shoulders, laying his head in your lap.

Millions of words flew out of Jordan’s mouth in the next five minutes. Topics varied from wanting to play hockey again, to what the doctors said about his foot, and probably to something that has to do with Sidney Crosby. You couldn’t really tell because he was talking so fast you could hardly make scense of the words.

“Let’s try this again.” You interrupt him mid sentence. “What’s wrong?”

Jordan looks into your eyes, and you understand what’s going on. Suddenly, you can feel everything he feels. You can see everything he sees. It’s like you were there the whole time, just because he wanted you to be.