HazelnutHaze

Fanfic of Viva La Dirt League - from the Bored Series, with Rowan & Alan in the PlayTech store. A sequel to the 'Kiss Kiss' episode. Will Alan finally get the kiss he's been craving? Or will Rowan continue to ignore him? And does PlayTech stock anything other than the Corsair Hydro series? Find out below....

 Alan was fuming as he stocked the Corsair Hydro series. It simply wasn’t fair. Rowan was kissing everyone, almost for no reason, but Alan’s cheek was still suffering from the burning humiliation of being overlooked. He’d kissed Adam for finding his pen, and for finishing up the invoices. Two days ago he’d even kissed the asshole customer who was always coming in to scam them. Alan savagely shoved another box onto the shelf.  Asshole customer with his smug punchable face and curly hair. Why did he get a kiss? Meanwhile Alan had done great work – really good work, even locking down the ten thousand dollar computer they’d been desperate to sell. He’d found Rowan’s third pen. Rowan had seemed grateful, excited even, and he’d licked his lips in a weirdly slow, deliberate manner. Why didn’t he lick his lips like a normal person? Why did he make that uncomfortable sound with his tongue? But Alan had been mesmerized. He’d stared, watching almost in slow motion as Rowan’s tongue slid out across his lips. His cheek had tingled in anticipation, he’d leaned forward – and then Rowan had just brushed past him and wandered back to his office, leaving Alan forlorn, confused, kissless.

 Why did he even want a kiss? This was Rowan. Rowan who didn’t know anything about tech. Rowan who would take a nap on the floor and then pretend he was looking at dust under a shelf. Rowan who would forget to wear pants to work. Alan angrily picked up another Corsair box. Why was he always stocking these? Didn’t they sell anything else? Or had Rowan given away all their other stock as free samples again?  Why couldn’t he stop thinking about Rowan and the kissies? Alan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was only the injustice of it surely – it wasn’t as if he liked his boss. It wasn’t as if Rowan was a nice person that Alan would naturally want to kiss. But why was he being excluded? Was he unkissable? Did he have garlic breath? Did Rowan hate him? Or - would kissing his cheek mean more than the other kisses – was Rowan afraid to be intimate with him? Afraid of where it might lead? The thought was electrifying. Alan put down the Corsair box and walked out to the front of the PlayTech store, scanning for the black shirt and Rowan’s handsome, insufferable face as he went.    

 There he was – over by the scented candles with Adam. As he stepped closer, Alan breathed in the sweet scent of pumpkin spice and felt a prickle of excitement.

               “We had a complaint that there weren’t enough SteelSeries candles, so I ordered a box,” Adam was saying proudly.

“Oh thanks man!” And Rowan leaned forward to place a kiss firmly on Adam’s offered cheek.

               Alan stared in horror. There it was – another kiss. Another kiss that wasn’t for him. Another kiss that filled him with the burning anger of betrayal, and hurt, and longing – and the fear that he would never get a kiss from Rowan. It was too much, it was the last straw.  

 Alan turned on his heel and marched away to the break room. He pushed aside the untidy mess of coffee mugs and tea bags near the sink until he found what he was looking for – a small, innocuous flash of silver. A teaspoon.

 There was a metallic tapping sound at the front desk. Rowan emerged from the shelves to see Alan banging a teaspoon up and down, an oddly strained smile on his face.

               “What’s going on here?”

Alan’s strange smile widened, and his eyes took on a reckless, glazed expression. “I just felt like making a little music”. He continued banging.

               “Get back to work.”

“Yeah, sure Rowan.” Alan looked him right in the face, and very deliberately dropped the teaspoon.

 The spoon hit the floor with a faint, rattling clunk clunk.

There was silence. Rowan swallowed uncomfortably, a vein beginning to pulse at his temple.

Alan savoured the sight of his growing anger. Oh, he had Rowan’s full attention now.

               “Aaaaarrrrrggggh. Aaaaaaargghhh I wanna punch you. I wanna punch you. I want to but I can’t”. Rowan was turning red, gritting his teeth and scrunching up his face.

Alan knew this was madness, but he couldn’t stop himself now. “But Rowan,” he said in a cheerful voice. “It’s just a spoon”.                “JUST -” Rowan was so angry he could no longer speak. He was opening and closing his mouth in fury, his hands clenched tight, his eyes wild. He finally pointed one menacing finger in the direction of the back room. “Teaspoon. Dropping. Cupboard. NOW”.

 “While you’re in there you can THINK about what you’ve DONE.” Rowan slammed the door in fury, leaving Alan encased in the darkness and dust of the shameful Teaspoon Dropping Cupboard.

Alan knew he’d be locked in for hours, getting hot and thirsty and bored, but he was burning with a spiteful sort of glee and proud triumph. Rowan was angry. Rowan was furious. Alan had given him a taste of his own betrayal and rage, and it felt good. Rowan would be angry all day, and there would be no more kissies for anyone. Alan leaned back against the wall of the cupboard in the dark, and smiled.

 It was past closing time. Alan had heard the muffled sounds of customers coming and going for hours, and Rowan pacing around angrily behind the counter. He’d heard Adam closing the roller door and packing up. It was quiet now. Was Rowan going to leave him here overnight? His smug satisfaction had disappeared some time ago, leaving him with his frustration and disappointment. He kept picturing that slow, weird way Rowan licked his lips. He kept imagining Rowan’s grimace/pout and crossed eyes when he’d say I’m a MODEL. In the silence of the musty Teaspoon Dropping Cupboard he felt like he was being tortured, images of Rowan dancing across his vision. I’m a MODEL. Alan swallowed again, feeling the dryness of this throat. He was exhausted, crushed, hungry and tired. His thirst was making him desperate. He wanted to stretch out from his uncomfortable position.

               He heard footsteps. The door burst open, making him jump with fright. Rowan was standing in front of him, imposing in his black shirt, a deep scowl on his face. “Out.”

Alan scrambled out of the cupboard, feeling a sudden rush of cool air and relief. He took in a deep breath and looked out across the shelves. The store was completely dark. There was no one else around.

               “Have you thought about what you’ve done?”

Alan jumped again with surprise as Rowan stalked closer to him and – shockingly, handed him a bottle of water. He took the bottle cautiously and slowly unscrewed the cap, expecting a trick. But Rowan just stared at him impassively while he took a long sip.

               “Insolence. Unacceptable. Unbelievable.” Rowan moved closer again, until there were only inches separating them. “You’re asking for a massive … paycut.”

Alan swallowed hard. He couldn’t stand this anymore. He felt his temper suddenly boil over, and threw the bottle aside. But Rowan didn’t even flinch as Alan leaned in, and smacked an angry kiss on his cheek.