Just a lil' snippet - I wanted to examine the friendship of Peter Colt and Dieter Prohl. First Wimbledon fic - not slashy, but kind of a backstory for the two.

Enjoy!

BR


BR

Dieter and I go way back. We've known each other since I was sixteen and he was fourteen and we were competing in junior championships. Of course, back then I actually had a future as a tennis player. Now I'm thirty-one (nearly thirty-two) and we've been playing with and against each other for fifteen years. We're at every tournament, every championship and we're around each other most of the rest of the time as well. The German player has become my best mate, my practice partner and the person who helps me keep it together when I'm about to lose it.

So you can probably understand what's going through my head right now. I'm up against my best friend in the quarterfinals of Wimbledon. Wimbledon, for crying out loud. My thirteenth – his eleventh…and I'm so scared that this could be the end of our friendship that I can't concentrate on the match we're about to play. 'A bullet to the heart', Lizzie called it, and I think she's right.

If we're not careful, this will be the end.