In Plain Sight You Hid, by nontoxic
Miguel's hand is back, slipping over and around his knee so his fingertips brush the soft skin inside his thigh and Alex feels himself getting hard in his trunks. See, asshole? Some people think I'm so charming they even want to fuck me. Alex can't stop his whiskey-loosened thoughts from imagining the meeting with Henry going that way, instead, imagines Henry's piercing blue eyes looking at him with an entirely different kind of heat blazing in them, imagines the same challenge and intent written plainly on Miguel’s face playing across Henry’s, blue eyes searing into his. And then Miguel leans in, and Alex lets him, reveling in the way the attention feeds his buzz and makes him lightheaded. Besides, kissing is fun. Even if it's with smarmy reporters who aren’t great at it. -- aka Alex falling in love with Henry while Miguel lurks in the background. (or, the author has a headcanon that "we once made out on the campaign, drunk, fully naked, in a hot tub" happened in Rio because someone was frustrated over being rejected, and it turned into 11k of loverboy ACD)
11k | complete | read on ao3