Here’s a little snippet from the fic I’ve been working on for this year’s Big Bang! I’ve had the absolute pleasure working with the fabulously talented @jackzimmermans / @novva and I promise you will be blown away by the artwork she’s produced to go with this.
I hope this will whet your appetites enough to look out for our submission later this week!
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    It wasn’t the first story he would hear about hockey robot Jack Zimmermann. When they returned to their desks that afternoon Shruti encouraged their colleagues to share their own nightmares about the guy. The more he heard the more Bitty was starting to think the man was past friendship and a patient ear, but he tried not to pass judgement until he’d met him. As luck would have it, one of the other social media associates needed a soundbite from their captain for one of that day’s Twitter posts and invited Bitty along.
  The smaller practice rink was noisy and cold when they walked in. Bitty wrapped his arms around his middle and followed the other man down the rows of seats. He’d watched hundreds of hockey practices before and could identify the drills the coach was running his players through. Bitty recognised a few names emblazoned onto the backs of jerseys, but it was hard to make out any faces under visors when they were all speeding by in a blur. They settled by the scorekeepers’ bench to wait.
   Eventually the coach called for a short break, and most of the players headed over to their bench to guzzle water and catch their breath. Bitty’s colleague flagged Zimmermann’s attention and waved him over before warning Bitty under his breath about the impending blandness of whatever statement they were about to receive. Bitty watched the man glide over. His features were clouded by the plastic visor, but there was something about the angular face that was familiar. Just as he approached, the man took his helmet off.
   Bitty had to turn his gasp into a hasty cough, quickly hiding it behind his hand. Zimmermann’s devastating blue eyes flickered towards him, and Bitty could have sworn the captain’s pale skin visibly whitened even more. Other than a discreet tightening of that beautifully chiselled jaw, there was no other indication that Jack had recognised him. He quickly looked back towards Bitty’s colleague, pretending Bitty wasn’t there.
It was Jack. The very same Jack that had eaten him out and groped his dick and given him one of the most brain-melting orgasms he’d ever had. It was also the Jack who had left in the early hours and left behind a shitty note. Bitty’s head spiralled as he tried to make sense of it all, hoping his hand hid the array of emotions he was feeling in case they were broadcast all over his dumb face.
   “Hey Jack,” Bitty’s colleague was saying, completely oblivious to the emotional trauma Bitty was currently going through. “I just need a few words about yesterday’s game for Twitter. Oh, and this is Eric, by the way, new social media guy.”
  Jack’s eyes barely flickered towards him and the greeting he murmured was brief and emotionless. Bitty managed to squeak out a reply, praying his face wasn’t bright red. That was the end of their interaction. Jack delivered his monotonous soundbite and then sped off down the ice with barely a goodbye. Bitty’s colleague snorted and stowed the voice recorder back into his pocket.
   “Told you the guy was an asshole.”