(TW: Fighting And Swearing)
It was just after another race, and once again Leclerc and Verstappen hit one another. Angered, Verstappen popped out of his car, and stormed off, not listening to any members of his team yelling over his radio, and he wasn't even listening to his father. That's when Leclerc finally got out of his vehicle and he knew that this was not going to end well.
Leclerc was alone, making his way to his garage when he felt a hand grip his shoulder, and drag him into the back of the Redbull garage.
"Are you trying to fucking sabotage me, Leclerc?" Verstappen says bitterly.
"Hell no! Why would I want anything with you?" Leclerc responds sourly. As Leclerc finishes his sentence he gets met with Verstappen's hand on his cheek, and a stinging feeling that is spreading across his whole face.
"You wanna be just like me don't you?" He asks with a smug face.
"Why would I?" Leclerc chuckles, Verstappen is nothing but a joke in Leclerc's eyes. Just a simple person that came into his life to mess him up and get him off track.
"Well you're just a fa-" Max goes to grab Leclerc's collar but he grabs Verstappen's hands and frantically pushes them away. Leclerc recollects himself and tries to make sure he doesn't cry in front of his biggest rival.
"Can you, uhm, not use that word? Please?" Leclerc asks quietly. Verstappen stands there dumbfounded, not knowing why Leclerc would have such an immense reaction due to Verstappen's anger.
"What's wrong with it, pretty boy?" Verstappen's antagonistic name for Leclerc rolls off of his tongue.
"Because, that it making fun of my people." Leclerc explains while looking down at the floor. Verstappen cocks his head confused, "I'm different then you, and all the other people on the circuit." Leclerc explains once again.
"What do you mean you're, different, you're the same as me and everyone else."
Leclerc sighs, "I'm asking you to stop using that slur because I am part of the LGBTQ community," Leclerc begins, "I am gay, so I would appreciate if you wouldn't do that at least around me. Now I don't care what you go and do or say around your friends, but please keep it professional and don't put anyone else's lives in your hands, Verstappen." Leclerc says in a somewhat threatening tone and he pushes past Verstappen and starts making his way back to his garage. He feels a hand land on his wrist and it gently gets squeezed, he turns slightly and sees that its Verstappen.
"What do you want?" Leclerc asks.
"I'm sorry, Leclerc. I didn't meant to offend you, or your community." Verstappen mumbles.
"It's okay." Leclerc smiled and pats Verstappen's head.
It was the first attempt at reconciliation between the two competitors. But a simple resolution to an immature argument did not even brush the surface of the months of hatred that had divided the two rivals. Finding agreement over a homophobic slur wasn't an accomplishment by any means, it was simply doing the right thing.
The rivalry persisted, the crash gone unforgiven by both boys. It was a battle for anyone to get Verstappen or Leclerc to utter a word about the other, forget about a compliment or even neutral remark. Even Blue Jaye couldn't get Max to talk about Leclerc, he would tell her about things that he told no one else but Leclerc was a name that was never used in the Verstappen household if it wasn't in a negative connotation.
But Charles couldn't help but think that Verstappen's behavior was a bit... weird. First of all, out of all the names he could call him, he went with 'pretty boy.' Did Verstappen actually think he was pretty, or was it meant to offend him? He couldn't help but laugh, especially now that Verstappen knew he was gay. The name didn't even offend him, he had been called worse by other children his age and he just couldn't bring himself to care.
But then why did Verstappen take every chance he had to touch Charles? The brushing of hands when he apologized, the one-armed side hug on the podium being just a bit more aggressive than it needed to be, it almost seemed like Verstappen had some ulterior motive that Charles simply could not figure out. He didn't know why he cared, he didn't want to care, and yet he absolutely did care, try as he might to ignore the name Verstappen. It was like a boomerang, he could throw it as far and as hard as he wanted but it would always come back, plaguing his thoughts.
Charles also couldn't lie, he was terrified of Verstappen's father. Terrified. The man just seemed aggressive, he was incapable of smiling. Maybe that's where Verstappen got his ice-like demeanor from, it also could very well just be a northern European thing. But something about Verstappen's father threw him off. Verstappen crashed? He was emotionless. Verstappen won? He was emotionless. He had once approached the man, just to congratulate him on a day that Verstappen had won. He had always been taught to respect the opponent, and his own father had encouraged him to say a word of congratulations. But even though Charles had enunciated loud enough that his rival's dad surely was capable of hearing him, Charles' message had gone ignored.
Since that day, he never had a good impression of Verstappen's dad. It would make sense, he supposed, maybe the apple really didn't fall that far from the tree.
And the man had only gotten scarier as he and Verstappen had grown older. He used to at least seem human. Now he was almost robotic, the way he would stand and watch Verstappen and then leave, his facial expression never shifting. Charles couldn't help but wonder what he was like behind closed doors, whether he was just as stoic or whether it was simply a facade. For all he knew, Verstappen's dad could be a completely different person when no one was around.
One thing he knew for sure, he didn't want to find out.
-RD & SM
Word Count: 1032
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Tightrope-Lestappen
Fanfiction"Tightrope" is a beautiful story weaved together through the amazing minds of @thatmclarengirlie and @TheRed0ne! This collaborative story is about Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen (Lestappen) where each one of us write half and half so we can both...
