Chapter Text
Alex doesn't like to run. It makes him feel hot and sticky, unpleasant sensations. But he runs now, eyes darting and feet clapping down the empty hallways of Pinewood Studios.
He arrives at his destination, shaky and breathless, anticipating that this is going to be equal parts disastrous and delicious. He silently slides through a door located to the right of the stage.
Greg doesn't look up from the phone in his hand, leaning casually against the Taskmaster throne in the dimly lit, long-empty studio.
“You’re late.” Greg’s voice effortlessly booms across the floor, reverberating up Alex’s legs and straight to his groin. Alex jumps, scuttles across the floor, and scales the stage without missing a beat. Greg raises an eyebrow, Alex knows he was impressed, and it both soothes and excites him.
Greg pockets his phone and takes a purposeful breath, steps around the chair, and lowers himself down slowly. As he looks up, the critical sneer at the corner of his mouth is almost imperceptible, but Alex sees it, and as a result, the hairs on his arms stand up. Alex can’t move. But that’s ok - he hasn’t been given the direction.
Greg leans back slightly, both feet on the ground in front of him, shoulder-width apart. Hands resting on his knees, he exudes confidence, ease, and power. Complete power. Alex’s face burns pink with desire.
“Kneel.” Alex doesn't hesitate or break eye contact, dropping directly to his knees. A sharp twinge as his right knee hits the floorboard is barely registered. He can only feel Greg’s eyes and the blood rushing to his groin.
“Crawl.” He didn’t need to be told where, or how, or why. He knows what is expected of him, just as the Taskmaster knows what he is willing to do. Everything. Anything.
On all fours, head reverently bowed, Alex moves gingerly towards Greg.
“Stop.” Alex is a nose away from Greg’s knee, and he stops immediately, frozen on the spot. After a beat of silence, he begins to look up and sees Greg reaching into his jacket pocket, sees him pull out a familiarly folded piece of paper.
Alex felt a rush of excitement course through his body. He knew what was coming, of course, but the sight of the task is thrilling.
Greg places the task on his lap, shifting his feet apart slightly.
“Open your task, Alex.” Alex straightens up, rocking back on his knees and reaching quickly for the paper.
“Without using your hands,” Greg bellows. Alex falls back to all fours before Greg can finish speaking. He should have known, he berates himself and blood roars in his ears. His lips purse, and he shuffles on his hands and knees closer to the chair. His face is now between Greg’s knees, his breath quickening and pulse racing. He pauses and looks up.
Greg stares down through dark-rimmed glasses, raising one eyebrow expectantly.
Alex’s mouth tightens further as he inches closer, the tip of his nose now just millimetres from Greg’s crotch. The smell of him is intoxicating, he can barely stand it. He cranes his neck, opens his mouth and, with crooked teeth exposed, clamps down on the envelope and shuffles away much faster than he had approached.
Greg takes a deep breath through his nose, deliberately and slowly exhaling. It sent a chill down Alex’s spine. He rocks back on his knees, envelope in his mouth, like a dog with a newspaper. He looks at Greg quizzically, asking without speaking, can I use my hands now? Greg smirks.
“No, you may not.”
Alex drops back onto all fours, the task falls to the floor, and he lowers his mouth to the red seal. Pushing his teeth between wax and paper, he frees the envelope. Using his lips, chin and nose, he awkwardly unfolds the task on the floor at Greg's feet. His anticipation and arousal are intensifying.
“Read it out loud.” Greg says, a smirk in his voice. Alex can’t look at him.
“Uh…” On all fours, hands planted either side of the task on the ground, Alex clears his throat and reads. “Tell the most amount of people that you want to kiss the Taskmaster. You have until the end of the next taping.”
Alex looks up. Greg is grinning now. “Your time starts now, Little Alex Horne.”