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Greg looked at the sealed task on his dressing table. Confused, he picked it up, and was about to look for a runner to hand it to when he twigged that the seal was black rather than red, and the initials printed in the wax were his own. Ah. Alex was up to something.
He glanced around, though he knew he was alone, and broke the seal. In the familiar stark font, the task read:
Distract Alex. You have the duration of tonight’s filming. Most effective distraction wins. *
Then, in small type at the bottom of the page:
* No one else can see this task. No one else can play. The Taskmaster always wins.
Greg smiled privately and re-read the task. Then he quickly hid it in his lap as the makeup woman bustled in without knocking as usual. ‘One of these days I’ll be naked, Julie,’ he warned in a sing-song voice. It was clear that this was something he had to say regularly.
‘I’m not easily scared,’ said Julie, as she unceremoniously picked up a comb and began combing Greg’s hair away from his face. ‘Don’t flatter yourself you’ve got anything new to show me. Have you been in the sun?’
‘Eh?’
‘You’re all red. Your face and your neck. Alex was, too, but he said he’d just been running, and no offence but there’s no way you have.’
Running from my dressing room, thought Greg, after delivering the task. ‘Yes, I’m a disgusting whale of a man, Julie, thanks for reminding me.’
‘Quiet, or you’ll look like you’ve been baking cakes as well as eating them’ said Julie, expertly applying powder over Greg’s blushes.
Back in the green room, Greg sat himself down in a chair next to Alex’s. ‘Risky little game,’ he said, quietly, holding up the evidence.
‘Not if you’re subtle enough about it,’ said Alex, waving and smiling at someone just arriving.
‘Not that, you prick. What if a runner had picked up the task before I got in there? Or make-up? Or one of the Andys?’
Alex’s face fell. ‘I…did not think of that.’
‘Relax, it was still sealed when I found it.’
‘Thank god. So…apart from that…?’
‘Oh, challenge absolutely accepted. We won’t be able to air this episode at all.’
* * * * *
A few days earlier. Alex’s relationship with Greg had recently taken a turn for the interesting. Or, at least, he thought it had. It was hard to tell. Greg’s persona was a scary headmaster and his own was a hapless servile administrator, so when they came together the dynamic kind of wrote itself. Lately, though, he was almost sure the flirting was real. Almost. It was like they were playing chicken with each other and with the channel. Daring each other to lose their cool, or their job.
Flirting was fun, but it wasn’t enough for him. Never enough. He wanted to move things on a bit, but he wanted to do it in his own way. The task idea was ideal. Greg would definitely go for it, would definitely want to take it as far as he could get away with, but safety would be guaranteed by the audience and the cameras. It would begin with the obvious: annoying noises, unbroadcastable interjections, stealing his notes…and then Greg would start playing the overly-friendly card. There would be too much touching. Trying to embarrass him. And yes, it would embarrass him. Worth it.
* * * * *
He’d thought he was so clever. Thought he could handle whatever Greg threw at him. But he was out of his depth already, for four reasons:
- He’d failed to define the rules properly.
- He’d stupidly assumed Greg wouldn’t use the hell out of that.
- Busy thinking of covert touches, he’d forgotten another, particularly exploitable weakness he had.
- He hadn’t prepared for the possibility that Greg might have already twigged what that weakness was.
His weakness was Greg’s voice. Not when the big man was barking orders (though orders were good too), but on those increasingly common occasions when Greg would lean into him and whisper. Just for him. A low, husky sound that went right to his cock. A sound he could feel.
Now the contestants were taking their seats to rapturous applause, so it was perfectly natural for Greg to move in closer to talk to him. And under the sound of cheering and clapping, no one heard what Greg whispered in Alex’s ear.
‘I know what this is about, this game of yours.’
‘I should hope so,’ Alex said at a pointedly normal volume, keeping himself safe. ‘You’re presenting it.’
‘Very funny. I mean the game you delivered to my dressing room.’
‘Not a game. A task.’
‘Game, task, scene, whatever. I know what you’re doing.’
Alex felt off-balance. It was very hard to concentrate on what Greg was saying when he murmured low like that. Did he say scene? ‘I…I’m glad you do,’ he said. ‘That makes one of us. I wasn’t aware I was doing anything.’
‘Of course you’d try to bring things to a head in front of the cameras. Always the exhibitionist.’
‘W-what?’ Alex gripped the arm of his chair.
‘I know this turns you on. Our banter. Our vibe onstage. It turns me on too.’ Alex felt like the world had flown away, leaving only himself and Greg. And Greg wasn’t finished. ‘Do you think about it at home? In your bed? In your shower? I do. Don’t always bother to wait until home, even.’ Greg leaned in closer, his lips so close to touching Alex’s ear. ‘When we kissed that time, that stupid little kiss, I couldn’t wait. Driving home, one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand…well…you know.’
Alex wasn’t even sure whether he was trying to answer. Either way, what came out of his mouth was a low groan.
‘You, er…might want to check what’s being picked up on your mic there, mate,’ whispered Greg. ‘Oh, and Alex? Three…two…one.’ Greg turned to face the audience. ‘Hello, and welcome to Taskmaster!’ he said.
Greg delivered his opening lines flawlessly, as though nothing had just happened. Alex, meanwhile, was already about as distracted as he imagined he could be. Did Greg even mean any of what he’d said? The Taskmaster could be cruel, but surely the real Greg wouldn’t be so cruel as to play on Alex’s feelings just to win a game? No. He was playing to win, but on some level he was also telling the truth.
Greg was introducing the guests now. Alex tried to focus. What came after the contestants? ‘And on my left, a man with a face so nondescript I genuinely can’t remember what he looks like when I’m looking at him…it’s Little Alex Horne!’ – Oh. My bit. Shit.
‘Hello, Greg,’ he said, on autopilot.
‘Hello, Alex. Hit me with some banter.’ Alex searched his mind for anything he’d planned for that evening’s banter section. Nothing came to mind except a quickly pushed down recurrence of the image of Greg touching himself in the shower. Hit me with some banter. Oh, that bastard. He couldn’t remember what came next because Greg had gone off-script. What he’d planned rode entirely on a reaction to a line from Greg, which Greg wasn’t going to deliver. What now?!
He fumbled in his jacket, apparently searching for something, actually playing for time. ‘I’ve got two kinds,’ he stalled. ‘I’ve got…your regular semi-skimmed, or full-fat.’
Greg grinned widely. He always admired Alex’s talent for surreal improvisation. ‘Oooh, I’ll have some delicious full-fat banter. Treat myself.’ He rubbed his hands together and made satisfied eating noises.
‘Only the best for you, Greg,’ Alex said. He pulled out some old notes that would be no help to him whatsoever other than as props. Greg looked at him expectantly. Alex blanked. ‘Th-that was it,’ he said. ‘That was the banter.’
‘Disappointing,’ said Greg, and he turned back to the audience, who (gallingly) seemed to have enjoyed whatever that was as much as any of his painstakingly prepared material. ‘Now I’m exhausted from carrying this show, and I will therefore be communicating solely through my assistant. Alex?’
‘Greg?’
Greg leaned in and whispered in Alex’s ear, to titillated giggles from the audience. ‘Do we have a prize task, Alex?’
Alex blinked and shook his head. At least his character was supposed to look awkward. ‘Er, yes, Greg. We have a prize task. And today our contestants have been asked to bring in the thing with the most surprising thing inside it.’
The prize task went off without a hitch, and Alex was beginning to feel better. The worst was over. Greg had peaked extremely early and nearly left Alex speechless, but he’d handled it and the show was going on. ‘That was an embarrassment of riches,’ Greg said, with emphasis on the ‘embarrassment’.
‘Would you like to score them?’
‘Yes, but my throat’s getting sore again. Hang on.’ Greg leaned in towards Alex again. More laughter than before. If there was anything this show’s audience loved, it was callbacks and running jokes. He began to whisper. ‘Make some shit up. I don’t care.’ He held his notes up to obscure both their faces, drawing a fresh wave of laughter from the crowd. ‘Can’t believe you invited me to do this,’ he murmured, his lips now just barely brushing Alex’s earlobe. Alex held his iPad over his lap, horribly aware of how evident his arousal was becoming.
‘Not exactly this.’
‘We’re both good at improvising. Hope you’ve decided what you’re about to say. Sometimes it’s just so easy to get distracted, isn’t it?’ And Greg planted a small but fierce kiss right on the corner of Alex’s jawline before leaning away and moving the handful of papers hiding their faces from the audience.
Alex turned to the crowd. He’d had dreams about Greg flirting, whispering, and kissing him before. He’d also had dreams about being exposed and losing his place during a show. What an honour to be treated to a real-life situation that encompassed both wet dream and anxious nightmare. I’m going to kill him. Kiss him and then kill him. Kiss him, undress him, let him fuck me, and then definitely kill him.
‘The Taskmaster has given me the scores,’ he said. ‘And…they are as follows.’ He reeled off some numbers. Greg, thank god, didn’t contradict his choices. But once he’d run out of things to say, there was a long moment of expectant silence before Greg crooked a finger, beckoning Alex in closer. Alex leaned in, nervous excitement coursing through him as Greg’s hand moved onto his knee. Predictably, the audience was loving it.
‘God, it’s so hard to keep my hands off you sometimes,’ Greg murmured. Alex tried his best to look natural. ‘It would be so easy to forget where we are. Forget we’re watched and just touch you like I want to touch you.’ Greg’s hand tightened on Alex’s leg. Alex adjusted the iPad covering his crotch. ‘Do you think they’ve noticed?’ Greg nodded down at Alex’s lap. ‘You’re so hot like this. I like you awkward and blushing. And hard.’ Suddenly, Greg pulled away, listening to a voice in his ear. ‘The gallery tells me,’ he announced out loud, ‘that this is “nothing that we discussed ahead of filming” and “not good television”. Um, I beg to differ. Now Alex, tell them what I told you.’
Alex looked at Greg in a panic. Greg just nodded and made an expansive, ‘go ahead’ gesture. A brief silence preceded Alex saying, ‘Um…the…first task is…’
‘No, that’s not what I said.’
Alex leaned in again to whisper to Greg, his voice barely audible but urgent. ‘This is neither the time nor the place,’ he hissed.
‘Distracted?’ whispered Greg. ‘Good. Now tell them what I told you.’
Alex sat up straight and looked at the Taskmaster, his expression pained. ‘You said you liked me like this. Embarrassed. Blushing.’
‘And…?’
‘…And here’s the first task.’ Alex made a wild motion for them to run the clip and slumped back in his chair.
* * * * *
By the end of the show, Alex looked like he’d just run a race and angry voices were coming through both of their earpieces. The audience, however, didn’t seem to think anything was out of keeping with the usual vibe of the show.
Greg was back in his dressing room, re-reading the task Alex had given him. Yes, he thought, the Taskmaster always wins. He was grinning to himself when a quiet knock came on the door. Julie never knocked. ‘Come in?’
Alex came in, seemed to think for a second, then locked the door. ‘I fucking hate you,’ Alex said, quietly, as though he could hardly bring himself to say such a thing.
‘Language.’
‘You took it too far out there. You know you did.’
‘I play to win. Can’t stand the heat, get out of the studio.’
Alex’s voice was now barely audible. ‘It wasn’t fair,’ he said.
‘Who said anything about fair? All the information was on the task.’ Greg held the offending handful of stiff paper and wax up as he mocked Alex’s sort-of-catchphrase.
‘You were taking advantage. Of my feelings.’
Greg smiled then, kindly. ‘Our feelings,’ he said. ‘And wasn’t it fun?’
Alex snorted. ‘You have an interesting idea of fun,’ he said, though his smile was betraying him.
‘But maybe you’re right. In front of the cameras isn’t the best place to test where your limits are. That’s what I wanted to do. I knew you wanted me, but I didn’t know if it was just a fantasy thing or if you could go through with anything in real life. Cos me, I want all of it.’
Alex felt the wall behind him, reassuring himself that there was something to stop him just toppling over backwards. He felt like his heart might flutter out of his chest. ‘Well,’ he managed, ‘maybe…you could just ask me. About specific things. I’m not sure what you want to know, but I’m pretty good at yes-no answers.’
‘Did you enjoy any of what happened up there?’
‘Yes. And no. I hated it. It was a nightmare. But it was kind of exciting too. And I like it when you whisper in my ear.’
‘I know you do.’ Greg grinned, smugly.
‘…Next question.’
‘Would you ever let me kiss you?’
‘Yes.’ – No hesitation. Greg tried not to look too excited.
‘Touch you?’
‘Where?’
‘God, I don’t know. Under your clothes.’
‘…Yes.’
‘Would you want to touch me?’
‘Yes, please.’
Greg grinned. ‘Yes, please?’
‘I mean…yes.’
‘No, I’m going to have to take your first answer. Would you…go further than that?’
‘I think so. Yes. I’ve thought about it. Quite a lot.’
Greg took a steadying breath. This was getting real. ‘Like…hand jobs?’
‘Yes.’
‘Blow jobs?’
‘Yes.’
‘…Sex?’
‘I want…you to do it to me.’
Greg let out a small nervous chuckle. ‘I mean…no problem. But it doesn’t have to be something I do to you. Can we say with?’
‘I guess that’s what I meant. I don’t know. I’ve never been…you know…on the receiving end before.’
‘But you want to.’
‘With you.’
‘Fucking hell, Alex. And…the other stuff?’
‘The other stuff?’
‘The kinky stuff. The stuff we play up to in the show. Would you be interested in any of that?’
Alex looked reticent. ‘Like what?’
‘Well I couldn’t help but notice that your heart rate went down instead of up when Rhod tied you up. Was that…what was that?’
Alex was blushing again, a deep glow that made Greg want to kiss him. ‘I liked it,’ he admitted. ‘I don’t know if it was even sexual, not with him, but it was…serene. Why? Would you want to…?’
Greg looked at Alex and imagined putting ropes around his wrists. It woke something feral in him – something more urgent than the hypothetical conversation they’d been having. He stood up. ‘Just…stay there,’ he said. ‘I want to try something.’
* * * * *
Alex pressed his back against the wall as Greg stood. The height of the man seemed obscene in this small space. Greg approached, his face unreadable but not threatening. Then Alex’s breath caught as Greg’s hand closed around his wrist and brought it up against the wall above his head. ‘OK?’ whispered Greg. Alex nodded, enthralled. Greg brought Alex’s other hand alongside the first and held them there with his own. For a while the two men just stood, looking at each other, getting used to this new development. As usual, Alex felt very small next to Greg, and he liked it more than he’d care to admit. ‘Can you move?’ Greg asked. Alex struggled halfheartedly and gasped as he felt Greg’s hands tightening on his wrists.
‘…Greg?’
‘Shh.’ Greg moved a hand briefly to place a finger on Alex’s lips before pressing the other man’s wrist to the wall again. He leaned in once more to whisper in Alex’s ear. ‘Don’t start overthinking now. You’ll think yourself out of it. And then you’ll go home and regret not staying just a little longer…just to see what happens…’
‘I’m not overthinking.’ It was almost scarier being turned on here, alone with Greg, than it had been with a full audience and cameras facing him. There, all he had to do was hide it. Here, if he wanted to, he could do something. Should he do something? How would Greg react if he did? Was he even meant to? Or was it Greg’s job to be proactive? ‘I…might be overthinking,’ he admitted.
‘Don’t.’ Greg released Alex’s wrists to hold his face, forcing eye contact. ‘Don’t,’ he repeated, and then his mouth was on Alex’s. The kiss was hungry, clumsy, like something long-anticipated but barely planned. Free to do what they wanted, Alex’s hands were exploring without any conscious permission. They strayed up under Greg’s jacket, and Greg shed it quickly as though reading his mind.
Alex could feel the heat of Greg’s skin through thin fabric. He could feel Greg’s hands, still warm at the sides of his face, rough fingertips grazing the back of his neck. Not letting himself think about what he was doing, he slid his hands down to Greg’s arse and pulled the man closer to him. One leg insinuated between Greg’s, and he felt the stiffness of Greg’s cock against his thigh. His own erection was pressed against Greg’s leg, and the overall sensation was just this side of dangerous. He broke the kiss, panting. ‘W-we should probably be quiet,’ he said, biting back a moan as Greg’s mouth moved to his neck. ‘People might hear.’
‘Fuck ‘em,’ mumbled Greg against Alex’s neck. ‘Door’s locked. What are they gonna do? Join in?’
Alex gave a short, breathless laugh at this, but his laugh was cut off by Greg’s hand sliding down in between them to stroke him and find the fly of his trousers. ‘Oh god, really? Here?’ he moaned.
Greg’s hand stilled but didn’t move. ‘Tell me to stop,’ he said, his words still whispered against Alex’s neck. ‘I’m not entirely incapable of controlling myself.’
‘No,’ Alex said, moving his hips to thrust into Greg’s hand. He didn’t care anymore how desperate he looked. ‘Don’t stop.’
‘Hold still a second, then.’ Greg fumbled the button open, dragged down the zip, and slipped his hand under the waistband of Alex’s ridiculous pink underwear. ‘Nice pants,’ he said.
‘Shut up.’ The hand wrapped around his cock was bigger and rougher than his own and moved with a different rhythm. Greg’s mouth was doing things to his neck that the make-up ladies would tell him off for tomorrow. And then Greg’s lips moved to whisper in his ear one more time.
‘Guide my hand,’ he said. ‘Show me how you like it. I want to make it good for you.’
‘You’re…oh…doing a pretty good job…by yourself.’
‘What would upgrade it from pretty good to coming all over my fist?’
Alex made an unintelligible noise, tried to talk, made another unintelligible noise, and finally managed, ‘Keep talking.’
Alex could feel Greg’s lips curling into a smile. ‘Yeah? I knew you liked it, but I didn’t know you liked it this much. What is it? The voice? The proximity of it? Or do you like it when I talk dirty?’ Alex swore softly, more a sound than a word, but didn’t answer. ‘All of the above, eh? Shall I tell you what I want to do to you? What I want you to do to me? Or how about just describing how this feels right now? God, I’m so hard for you.’
Greg’s hand, previously moving in slow, lazy strokes, began to speed up. Alex was glad of the wall behind him and Greg’s weight in front of him, holding him upright. There was no question about it now. Alex was going to come like this, up against the wall of his friend’s dressing room, staining his smart black suit. Greg continued to whisper, his voice rough and ragged as though he, too, was losing control. ‘For now I want to see you come. Later, or tomorrow, or next week, but soon, I want you naked. I want you in my bed. And I…want to fuck you…till you see stars.’
Somewhere through his mounting pleasure Alex heard this last sentence, not so much whispered as growled, and he came hard, forgetting what was left of his inhibition. His cock still twitching in Greg’s hand, his tongue now somehow in Greg’s mouth again, he registered that while Greg had been whispering, he hadn’t been quiet at all. He broke the kiss, leaned his forehead on Greg’s shoulder, and found himself laughing and crying a little, all the catharsis coming at once. Greg laughed too. The situation was absurd.
‘Still want to fuck me?’ Alex asked through the laughter, ‘Or has the moment passed?’
‘What, now?! Give it a minute. You’re insatiable.’
‘No, not now. Not here. Just in general. I mean it. Was that…all talk? Cos in the heat of the moment it was great, but I’d like to know what to expect, if anything, further down the line.’
‘Well, that sounds more like you,’ Greg said, and he kissed Alex once more on the lips, sweet and chaste this time. ‘All about the admin.’
‘You…haven’t answered the question. Is that a no?’
‘Alex Horne, I promise that to the full extent of permission granted, I will do everything in my ability to absolutely fucking destroy you in bed. Is that enough of a yes for you? Would you like it in writing?’
‘Couldn’t hurt.’
‘Yes, I bet you’d love to have me contractually obliged.’
‘Am I that boring?’
‘Yeah, you ever meet someone who’s so boring you just want to confess a long-term attraction to them, stick your tongue down their throat, then wank them off and promise sex? Idiot.’
Alex smiled against Greg’s shoulder. They held each other like that for a while. Then there was a shuffling noise outside the dressing room. ‘I think the cleaners want to get in,’ Alex said. ‘We’d better get presentable. Oh god, I hope we didn’t get…er…anything on the floor.’
‘It’s not the cleaners,’ Greg said, with absolute certainty. ‘I heard the door rattle when we were at it. Julie! Go away!’
A woman’s voice came from the other side of the door, strident and sarcastic. ‘You want to pass me my sponge when you’re zipped up? I’ve been waiting ages. Put Alex down and hook up on your own time.’
Alex was mortified, blushing furiously and hastily pulling his pants up as Greg walked over to lean on the locked door. ‘So,’ Greg said. ‘Return of your sponge plus, say, subscription to a food or wine delivery box of your choice in return for silence?’
‘Sounds good. White wine or gin for me. Six months should do it. Are you decent?’
‘As much as we ever will be,’ said Greg, as Alex frantically shook his head. The door opened and Julie bustled in and grabbed the make-up sponge she’d left on the dressing table. Greg stared at her like she had two heads. ‘But…we locked it!’
‘Lock doesn’t work. I made sure no one came in.’
‘…Twelve months it is, then.’