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The “time and place” of Greg’s choosing comes directly after the studio record, in large part because both Alex and Fatiha are hounding Greg about it, refusing to let him leave the studio before he fulfills his promise.
“You did say, ‘right now,’ Greg,” Alex points out, to Greg’s dismay.
“Yeah, all right,” Greg huffs, rolling his eyes. There’s a hint of a smile on his face. “Come on, you lot. Promises to keep, and all that.”
The five contestants plus Alex follow Greg up the stairs to his dressing room. Once they’re all inside, the door is closed and then locked. Six pairs of eyes turn to Greg.
“Jesus Christ,” he says, running a hand down his face. “Really fucked myself this time, didn’t I?”
“In more ways than one, bruv,” Fatiha says, smirking. She nods towards Greg’s legs. “Come on then, let’s see what you got.”
Greg sighs, and undoes his belt. He pulls his zipper down, followed quickly by his trousers and pants, going halfway down his thighs. Might as well rip off the plaster quickly. He pointedly does not make eye contact with anyone in the room as they get a good look. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Jason, Mat, and Stevie clinging onto each other as they suppress their giggles. He thinks Rosie might be looking bashfully away, but Fatiha definitely has the most interest, surprising no one.
“Bruv…” she sighs wistfully.
“Right, that’s enough,” Greg says, feeling his face go red. He hikes his pants and trousers back up and puts himself back together. When he looks back up, he sees everyone standing there, looking at him.
“Everyone out!” he shouts, pointing at the door. He can’t quite hide the smirk that stitches up one side of his mouth.
The contestants file out one by one. The last to leave is Fatiha, giving Greg one more glance over her shoulder, raking her eyes entirely up and down his entire form. She closes the door, and it’s just Greg and Alex left.
“You should know better by now not to make promises like that,” Alex says haughtily, leaning his back against the door.
“Yeah, yeah,” Greg says, raking his hair back with a hand. “Rub it in, why don’t you?”
Alex grins. “I mean, it’s not like it’s anything I haven’t seen before.”
“Fuck you,” Greg says, smiling. He walks over to Alex and brackets him in against the door with his arms, then bends down to kiss him on the lips.
“What, right now?” Alex smirks.
Greg rolls his eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Thank you, Greg.” Alex kisses him back.