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When the final whistle blows, chanting erupts into cheers and screams and one distinct 'fucking wankers!', the stadium bursting with white confetti and blue fireworks. She can already see it, the commentators yelling 'they've done it! Chelsea have won their second consecutive title!' as fans of the opposing teams spew off on Twitter accusing the club to have bought their win.
It's all background noise though, with the groundsmen continuing to set the prize giving platform up with quick efficacy and the players making their laps around the field pulling out cheers from the crowd. The chants start up again, a hum of 'Diego Costa! He scores when he wants! He scores when he wants!' rumbling through the stadium, and the man himself holds his arm up in thanks for the support as he makes his laps around the field.
She notices how David fidgets in the plastic seat, sees how eager he is to run the camera onto the field, but they've gotten specific orders towait after they get their medals. Emma places a hand on his bouncing knee shooting him a look to be patient.
But for all her talk, her heart beats heavy with anticipation and she can't help the how the grin on her face grows as the boys bite into their gold for the pictures.
The moment the first player steps off the platform and back onto the field, they run.
Well, running with all the equipment isn't safe, so really they pace towards the players, but her heart beats as quickly as it would if she were running.
She finds her targeted mop of dark hair, the tall figure with the blue jersey that clings to his skin, arm slung over one of the younger player's shoulders.
"Jones!" she calls, but it's only after repeating herself the second time louder and closer does he turn.
His grin grows large when he sees her and she tries to calm the staccato in her chest.
She's vaguely aware of how David sets up the camera next to her, adjusting and confirming everything's a-okay for the interview.
His smile widens and his dimples deepen, arms open like he's going to-
"And go!" David yells suddenly, startling Emma into starting the interview.
"How does it feel to have won your second Premier League title in only your third season at the club?" It's the question she's had on queue and the surprise start forces her into asking it, Killian's arms dropping at his sides when Emma begins.
He wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, panting from either the 90 minutes he played or the adrenaline, she isn't sure. "It's bloody great, lass - last season was a dream, but today's just- I couldn't even word it if I tried."
The joy in his voice makes her lips twitch, but she catches David snapping his fingers at her from behind the camera when she doesn't continue - right, professional.
"And to be moved up from the subs and into the first team - that must've been pretty big."
"Aye," his lips crack into a half smile, "To be playing along these lads - they're the best teammates a man could ask for."
He folds his arms and bounces on his feet, biting his lower lip as he scrubs his hand down his scruff, and fuck, she knows that look.
"And you're tied for most assists this season," she adds quickly, hoping to falter him, "Sharing the title with Eden Haz--"
His lips on hers halts her from finishing the sentence, his hand in her hair pulls her closer to him (and also closer into the frame), and her grunt in the back of her throats makes David groan from behind the camera.
"Couldn't help myself, love," he murmurs as he presses his forehead against hers (and maybe that's why he'd wiped the sweat of it earlier), leaning forward again to press his lips to hers once more.
"Congratulations," she whispers against his kiss. "When we get home-"
"Okay, that's a wrap, kids!" David cuts in reminding Emma that the camera was still rolling before he shuts it off.
Killian's grin turns into something smug, smirking at David's displeasure as he holds Emma by his side.
"We have work to do," he grumbles, stalking off the equipment a trail of mumbled 'Next season I'll get only Regina to interview you,' following behind him.
-/-
She tries to keep professional for the rest of the interviews, pretending not to notice Killian's stare from where he stands with some of the others, acting as though it doesn't fluster her.
She's conducting an interview with one of his teammates, her back facing him when she hears a familiar laugh. Emma turns her head the slightest and catches the sight of blonde hair running towards Killian.
But she's a professional, (you're a professional, she repeats to herself), and tries not to let her lips twitch into too big of a smile at the sound of their son's 'Daddy!'.
By the end of the interviews, David doesn't glare too hard at her, so she mustn't have done too bad.
When she makes her way across the field to find them, Killian's lying on the ground with his head propped up against crossed arms and a child on his chest.
"This boy can sleep through anything," she smiles, stroking his hair as she settles next to them.
"Takes after his mother," Killian grins.
"Screw you," she rolls her eyes, but he simply shrugs. "We better make a move," Emma mentions, slowly lifting Ayden off his father.
He wakes groggily as Killian stands, taking him back into his arms for Emma to get up herself.
"We going home?"
"Aye, love," he presses a kiss to the top of his head. "Show Mummy what you got."
His face lights up and suddenly he's awake. "Mummy, look!" Ayden pulls the blue ribbon that holds the medal. "Look what Daddy gave me!"
"Did you win that?" Emma grins, thumbing at the silky feel of it under her fingers.
"Aye," he says before staring up at Killian with an expectant smile.
"You taught him how to say that?" she scolds with barely any heat behind the words.
"Aye," Killian repeats, smirking wildly at her. "Better raise him a pirate, than someone who can't keep from blushing in an interview."
She rolls her eyes but otherwise ignores his jab.
At least, until they get into the car, that is.
"Honestly," she says, glancing to the back to see if Ayden's buckled up and then looking back straight ahead, "I was only flustered because Hazard just has a much nicer ass than you do."
It seems like he's the one that's flustered now.