Fics like one of the greats

The moment the ball hits the court, fitting perfectly inside the lines, Jannik freezes. He sees him fall to the ground on the other side of the net. He buries his face in his hands, smiling blindingly. When he gets up, there is clay all over his kit, clinging to his back and legs. There’s clay all over Jannik’s hands too. He feels sick when he glances at his palms. Disbelief mixes with resentment in his stomach and Jannik thinks he’s going to throw up. Yet, he somehow drags himself to Alcaraz, congratulating him robotically. He can’t stand to look at him, the triumph on his face making Jannik feel angry. Furious, even. He grips Alcaraz’s hand tighter than he probably should, his knuckles whitening. The other man doesn’t wince, though. He only smirks at Jannik, victorious. “Great match”, Alcaraz says to him perfectly politely. But there is a malicious glint in his eyes, Jannik swears he sees it.

Fics like one of the greats

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