#declan doesn't have it but in case that's the tag people block. and maybe he will after this!

[b0amagination]

Hasan and Declan - 1

Hi hello! This will be an ongoing series, paired with audio recordings of each chapter made by yours truly! They’re not perfect by any means, but this is an option I’ve been craving forever and will be making available :D

~~~

Content warnings: head trauma, trapped in a small space (claustrophobics beware), suggestive comments, threatened murder, and kidnapping.

~~~

Hasan huffed, balancing their washbasket on a knee in order to grasp the door handle with one hand and pry it open. They caught it on the swingback with their foot and ungracefully made their way into the laundromat.

For the fourth time that day, they cursed the delivery service for refusing any time that worked for them until two weeks out. And it wasn’t like their current washer was even partially functional. That bitch was fully out of it.

So they were stuck driving the entire ten minutes to the laundromat to do their laundry until then.

One of the fluorescent lights was flickering incessantly, and they walked to the opposite side of the store. No way in hell they were doing anything with that kind of annoyance in their face.

There were only a few other patrons in the store waiting by the dryers, which made sense given it was… Jesus, it was 11:00pm already. Sundown at 6:00pm made it impossible to keep track of time.

They threw their load into two separate washers, delicates separated carefully, and hopped on top of one for a seat as it ran. An innuendo came to mind, making them snort as they pulled out their phone and put their earbuds in.

Half an hour of tiktok scrolling later found them alone in the building, clothes finally done sloshing in what had to be a less than clean machine. They hoped their soap could override whatever was swimming around in there. 

A quick google search on how much soap was needed for a load of laundry assuaged some of their fears, but quickly turned into: ‘how to clean a washing machine?’ ‘is it that dangerous to climb into a washing machine?’ ‘how long can you survive when a washing machine is turned on?’ ‘killing people in washing-

“Rough night to do laundry, huh?” 

Hasan’s eyes shot up and froze on the unexpected visitor. Blue bangs peeked out from a hood, dusted lightly in snow. When they tugged it off, longer dark hair trailed over their shoulders and framed bright red eyes, shielded by glasses, still staring at them.

They realized they’d forgotten to answer. They’d also forgotten the question.

“What?” Hasan ripped out both earbuds so they’d have a chance at hearing the answer.

“I’m just talking about the snowstorm,” the visitor responded, tipping their head to the windows. The light from inside illuminated white flakes flying by the building that Hasan hadn’t noticed until now. 

“Oh. I mean, it must have started after I got in here.” Suddenly, the snow in their hair made a lot more sense.

They strode up to Hasan and extended their hand without hesitation.

“I’m Declan.”

“Cool.” They nodded. 

“And you are…?” Declan asked.

“Hasan.”

“You got pronouns?”

Hasan squinted.

“I- don’t we all?”

“Fuck, dude, some of us got complex lives.”

“Jesus Christ-” They started, but the other cut them off with a cackle.

“Not in this house,” Declan grinned and Hasan sputtered, trying to put themself back together.

“Shhh- shush. Shut the fuck. Fuck your up. Oh my god.” They took a deep breath. “My pronouns are they/them. How about you?”

“Solid. I’m a he/him guy myself.” Declan looked smug. It would’ve been cute if it wasn’t infuriating.

“Weren’t you here to do laundry?”

“I still am!” He gave a million dollar smile and bent down to open the washer Hasan was perched atop. They leaned over their knees, watching him sort his laundry. Shirts and pants went into one bin, and socks and underclothes went in the other. 

“You… you sort by big and small? What the hell?”

“Hasan, do you enjoy finding socks inside your pant legs and shirt sleeves?”

They raised their brows and put up their hands in surrender as Declan loaded his small clothes.

Hasan’s gaze landed back on their phone where the unfinished search was still waiting on their screen. The cursor blinked expectantly. They gave a quick glance to Declan, then erased it and ticked in ‘how to fit person in washing machine.’ 

They really weren’t sure if they wanted him yet, but the opportunity couldn’t have come at a better time. Empty public space, a victim with potential, and a phone in his back pocket.

What more could they have asked for? 

Declan opened the washer across the row and Hasan hopped down from theirs, slipping their leather gloves back on. They plucked the phone out and set it behind them.

“Hey, Dec?” He turned around, confused and opened his mouth to correct them. “Nope, more important question coming your way. How do you feel about submission?”

“Excuse me?” 

They landed a kick to his stomach, following up as he fell and shoved his shoulders down. He folded halfway into the washer and looked up with panic in his eyes.

“What the-nghh!” Another kick in the same spot pushed the air from Declan’s lungs, rendering him useless as his legs were frantically shoved in with him. “Woah, woah woah! Let me out of here!”

Hasan shoved their foot against the lip of the entrance, keeping him from pushing out.

“Hold still and shut up. You do anything reckless? I’ll shut that door and put you on spin cycle.”

“Very funny. Let me out.” His tone went from light to a wavering seriousness very quickly. Quite promising. He knew he was being threatened.

“No, no listen. It’s actually fascinating. Did you know: apparently, washing machines can spin with a force that’s two-hundred times the earth’s gravity! I mean, this was a preliminary google search and we’re in a public service where you’ve gotta pay four whole quarters for anything halfway decent, but you get where I’m going with this, right? This shit’ll kill ya! I can kill you right now!” 

Doubt wormed its way into Declan’s expression, but something else softened and brought fear to his eyes. Even halfway hidden by the cramped space, Hasan was delighted to see how that facade melted away.

“I don’t believe you.” His voice shook.

“Ohh, babe, you don’t want to challenge me. Especially when I have you right in the palm of my hand.”

He could hardly move but his face said he was squirming against the words and power Hasan dangled over him.

“What do you want?”

“Smart question… smart boy.” They smiled. “I want to take you.”

“T… take me?” Declan blanched, trying to adjust his position. He slipped a hand behind him, only to find the empty space where his phone should’ve been, Hasan supposed delightedly.

“Don’t blush like that, goodness, I’m not going to pleasure you. You’re going to come back to my home and I’ll do with you whatever I see fit. That’s the deal.”

“Why would I?” he asked, like he even had a choice anymore.

“Because it’s the only way you’ll live to see tomorrow.” Hasan watched him shuffle about, putting his body behind him in the machine. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” they said.

“I’m not cooperating with a kidnapper,” he snarled. “Especially not if they’re so pathetic they try to kill me in a washing machine.”

They looked down, a glare alighting their face even as they tried to suppress it. As soon as Declan poked his head out from the machine, trying to push out as quickly as possible, they slammed the door shut. An anguished cry came muffled from inside and Hasan laughed, stooping to pick up their victim’s detergent.

Their foot propped them between the washers and held the door shut as he regained his bearings, watching in horror as Hasan opened the drawer and poured a generous amount. 

“Stop! Holy fuck, stop!” Declan shrieked, but he was ignored.

“How much room have you got in there, Dec? Shall I label you as a bulky load?” Pounding against the door answered them, and they clicked the corresponding button. “Right, and soil level? When’d you last shower?”

“You’re fucking insane!”

“I’ll set it as heavy just in case, then.” A bing of confirmation sounded, and the green light next to the start button lit up.

“Open up! God dammit!!” Declan sobbed, gasping and trying to avoid hyperventilation.

“I’m pretty sure someone said not to bring him into this!” Hasan rolled their eyes, bending over the window. “You know, I could hit the start button right now and it would all be over. That door would lock. Even if I wanted to stop, if I regretted what I’d done, I’d be powerless. And so would you. Is that what you really want, Declan?”

“No, please no!”

“I’m glad you agree. I don’t want that to be the end of you either, but the only other option you’re allowed is climbing out of there calmly, and being entirely agreeable while I bring you back to my car and my home,” Hasan said.

“I… Hasan. Please, please you don’t have to do this- wait no!” He gasped when Hasan’s hand drew closer to the control panel. 

“It’s one or the other.”

“No, no, no, I’ll cooperate if that’s what you want. I can cooperate. Don’t kill me, whatever you do.”

The door opened, and he tumbled out halfway on to the floor. 

“Out and on your knees.”

“Shit, okay, okay…” He put his hands up, shuffling uncomfortably on to his knees.

“Good. Up.”

As he shakily rose to his feet, standing only a few inches shorter than Hasan, they rooted through their pockets. They had to have something helpful on them somewhere… their pant pockets proved worthless and they moved on to their inner sweatshirt pockets where, under three mechanical pencils, they actually procured something useful.

“What now?” Declan asked, watching Hasan’s silent stare rove over him.

They didn’t know what else to say and simply stepped forward, grabbing Declan by the scruff of his jacket and smashing his head on the corner of the washing machine. He crumpled to the ground, groan stifled by the flooring.

“Your whole body is just begging to run, and I can’t let that happen,” they explained, taking the zip tie from their pocket and locking Declan’s wrists behind his back. 

He was too out of it to resist much at all as he was hoisted into Hasan’s arms and carried away.

~~~

Next...