Jeremy/Gorilla LOOOOL - flash fic 2025.03.03
OK listen. LISTEN. I wanted to write a flash fic. kieks gave me "ice cream" as a prompt and Jeremy as a character. I went to Jane and Clarence for a second character without giving context, and unfortunately Jane answered first, and without hesitation, "Gorilla." I then asked friends for a first name and they said "It'd be really funny if we had another derek variation for the bit." SO HERE I AM HAVING WRITTEN JEREMY/GORILLA FOR THE BIT.
The doors squeaking open catches their attention. Out steps one of Brenkenridge’s starting strikers, Derick Hawking. His gaze spots them immediately, and Andrew unsubtly intones a bitter, “Ugh.”
As far as Dereks go, Derick Hawking is—well, Jeremy wouldn’t say a favourite, but he supposes he is a captivating one. It’s mostly the way he looks: six feet, four inches, and three hundred pounds of muscle; a sure nightmare on the court with a penchant for slamming strikers against court walls with no regard for their safety, or frankly his own. Jeremy much prefers it when Derick slams him against more solid, private walls, even if he comes out of that bruised too.
“Foxes.” Hawking sounds displeased to see them, his frown deep with hostility, all of it directed at Andrew.
“Oh, look,” Andrew starts. Jeremy imagines nothing nice or productive will come out of Andrew’s mouth, so he turns to him with his fist out. It works to distract him. Andrew indulges Jeremy’s proposition because he’s in a forced good mood, but he was never going to challenge him. Jeremy bounces his hand twice then reveals scissors. After a purposefully long pause, Andrew puts out paper and cackles. “He’s all yours, thank god.” Andrew flicks the rest of his cigarette off to the side without looking and gives Hawking an exaggerated wide berth. Andrew pinches his nose on his way and Hawking lunges for him but misses him entirely. Andrew laughs again and only pauses at the door to give Jeremy a mean, judgemental smile.
Jeremy’s smile is genuine. “You’re taking my stash,” Jeremy tells him calmly, a touch amused. Andrew digs into his pockets and throws his findings to Jeremy before disappearing into the hotel.
Due to his stature, Jeremy’s teammates have taken to calling him ‘Gorilla,’ which is decidedly not sexy, so Jeremy avoids it. “Derick.” Derick jeers at the familiarity. Jeremy flashes the pack of cigarettes like it’s a prize. “Cigarette?” Jeremy asks him. “Something else to put your mouth on?”
No other player, coach, or other staff is outside. They are by some miracle the only ones out by the smoking area right now. Derick still throws a wild glance around them as he stomps towards Jeremy and slaps a beefy hand against his mouth. Jeremy is too surprised to resist as he’s being marched back to the wall and knocked against it.
“Shut the fuck up,” Derick spits. “What is wrong with you?”
Jeremy fights the urge to kick him so he can remove his hand. Instead, he pulls out a lemon-flavoured Chupa Chups lollipop from his pocket and raises an eyebrow. When all Derick does is stare at it confused, Jeremy pushes his hand away. “Just meant this lollipop.”
Derick doesn’t relax. He works his jaw like he’s trying to work out what to say and how to say it. Jeremy unwraps his candy while he deliberates and makes himself comfortable as he leans back, crossing his ankles. Derick’s eyes are drawn to his mouth. Jeremy dips his chin and watches Derick through his fringe as he tracks the intentional way he covers the lollipop and sucks off of it, and Jeremy is struck again by the thought that some boys are so easy.
When he thinks it’s been long enough, Jeremy pops his mouth off the lollipop and asks, “Well, do you or don’t you?”
Derick steals the candy from him, and Jeremy lets him. Derick tosses the lollipop on the flat of his tongue and slowly sucks it into his mouth. It does something for Jeremy, for Derick to unabashedly take over—it speaks of later promises; maybe even a commitment to reciprocity, but Jeremy doubts it. It’s fine, though, as Derick says, “Sure,” thick around the lollipop. He’ll get what he needs from Derick and call it a night.
Jeremy smiles again. “Okay,” he says amiably. He flutters his hand towards the door. “You go first.”
Derick does, sparing him a hungry look as he steps through the hotel doors. Jeremy sighs and smokes after half cigarette before he goes to find him.
