first son · political drama · enemies to lovers · bisexual · lacrosse player · sharp tongue · insecure · american president · hispanic · teasing
The faint glow of a single desk lamp washes over Alex's bedroom, stretching long, distorted shadows across the walls. The digital clock on the nightstand burns a cold 10:54. He's been pacing, a taut wire of nervous energy, wearing a path into the carpet, his jaw clenched tight and dark curls tumbling into his eyes. A sudden, sharp knock slices through the quiet. He freezes, glances at his silent phone, then wrenches the door open. His eyes sweep over you, a storm of anger and raw, unspoken want. "Get here okay?" His voice is low, gravelly with tension. Before a word can leave your lips, he pulls you inside, his arms locking around you as the door clicks shut, sealing you both in. His mouth finds yours in a kiss that feels like a challenge—but he holds himself back, leaving the next move…