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"Paa, please! You know I can't do it without your help!“
„That’s exactly why you should finally learn how to wash your own clothes. I’ve had enough!
What do you even do to your clothes? They are a right mess! Learn how to be less messy and we can talk again!“
Pat just keeps on looking at her with puppy eyes.
No. No. Not this time.
Paa sets on a firm face. Pat shall never know her weakness. He already uses it enough as it is.
„Pat. At least try! There is a laundromat not that far from your place. You can go there. There should always be someone there you can ask for help.“
This still doesn’t seem to reassure him.
„I‘ll come visit you and bring you some sweets if you manage it.“
This seems to finally lighten up his face.
„Ok. I’ll try! But don’t you forget to come visit and bring me my reward afterwards, baby sister!“
Paa can barely hide her fond smile at that.
Who exactly is the baby here?
~~~~~~
That’s how Pat ends up at the laundromat close to his dorm room, staring helplessly at the washing machine. He is lost. Why are there so many settings? What is he supposed to do here?
This is a hopeless cause. He is a hopeless cause.
He almost gives up when his savior shows up. His laundry angel. With a scent from heaven, but a mouth (& killer dimples) from hell. No wonder he first mistook him for a reaper after scaring him almost to death as he seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
But just one whiff of his scent and he knew better. How could clothes smell this good? Bless his sister for washing his clothes, but they had never smelled like this. Maybe he could learn something? Laundry angel -Pran- should teach him his ways. He would show Paa that he wasn’t a hopeless cause after all.
Ok maybe he was.
He tries. But no matter what he does, despite all of Pran’s help the clothes never smell as good as Pran‘s. Not to mention that it’s been weeks and he still can't do his laundry by himself. It’s getting clearer every day that the washing machines are plotting against him!
Good thing lovely Pran is always to the rescue. Pran is fun to be around. So much, that despite his feud with the washing machines, he finds himself coming back to the laundromat more and more often. It’s a good place to study. It feels comforting, much more than his empty dorm room.
And then there’s also the one thing that won’t leave him alone. The secret of Pran’s laundry. He has to know! Despite Pran persisting that he does Pat’s laundry the exact same way as his own, there's always a difference. The scent doesn’t match. Contemplating, he takes another whiff of the shirt Pran had lend him, somehow trying to smell out the secret.
~~~~~~
That’s how Paa finds him in his dorm room.
„Paa?“ Pat whines slightly surprised, but not enough to not instantly spring the topic of his torment on her.
„I just don’t understand! How can these two shirts smell so different, when they are washed with exactly the same detergent.“
„Take a sniff!“ he says as he pushes the two shirts under her nose.
Paa looks at the shirts in question and then back at her brother. Weirdo.
„What’s this shirt, Pat?“ she questions „It doesn’t look like one of yours“
Pat just looks sheepishly at her.
„Did you STEAL it?“
„What? No.“ he replies „He gave it to me.“
He? she wonders.
Pat had somehow managed to ruin his own shirt, at a laundromat at that! She wished she were surprised. It was Pat’s luck, „someone“ had a spare, so he could immediately put his worn shirt into his washing machine.
Why he didn’t give the shirt back right after his own laundry was finished, she didn’t understand. But the more Pat tells her, the more she gets a suspicion why.
~~~~~~
It went like that.
Everything had been Pran‘s fault. Pat had been drinking some milk tea, lost in thought, when suddenly out of nowhere Pran would stumble against him, making him spill his drink all over his own shirt.
Lovely Pran, always helpful, had been very forthcoming on providing him with a spare shirt of his own. And wow, did it smell good! He should wear Prans shirts all the time!
And Pran? What if his eyes had lingered a little longer than what is considered proper on Pats bare chest?
No one could fault him for that. Pat was very attractive, and working at a laundromat dreadfully boring. You had to soak up all the excitement you could get.
But it wasn’t the only incident like that. Some might even wonder if a certain laundromat worker would purposely initiate them. Purposefully making a mess out of Pat, making him take his shirt off in the middle of the laundromat and then giving him his own, letting him keep it.
But that was just ridiculous.
Pran wasn’t like that. He liked his order. Liked anything clean and in its right place.
Pran didn’t like messes.
Except now he did.
He liked Pat with his shirt tucked up the wrong way, liked him with his hands full of oil from eating some snacks,
liked Pat slurping the last of his drink ridiculously loud, liked him being all sweaty from the heat outside.
He liked Pat making a mess out of his hair, even liked how he would make Pran fumble over his own words.
Yeah, he liked Pat, liked how he messed him up outside and inside, making his stomach feel like a washing machine on spin cycle.
What he didn’t like, was Pat being complete unaware of the mess he left behind.
Someone should give him an instruction manual. Because if Pat was as bad at this, as he was at doing his own laundry, Pran was certainly doomed.
~~~~~
Which brings us back to Pat and Paa.
„So, what do you think? Can you help me figure this out?”
“I don’t know, Pat. Maybe you should just really watch him closely. You might have just missed something.”
While Paa was certain that her brother HAD missed something, she was also pretty sure that it had nothing to do with the washing process at all.
But at one point even Pat might figure that out.
And if not, maybe then she would consider helping along. But until then she would enjoy the once in a lifetime experience of seeing her brother get all obsessed with laundry making.
‚Watch him more closely‘, that’s what Paa had said. But what good would it do? After all Pran had even done his laundry for him quite a few times and it still had smelled different. So what was the secret?
Or did he wash his own clothes differently? Well, he had said that he’d do it the same way he washed his own stuff. Could he have lied? Maybe it was a secret ingredient thing, like with cooking?
Only one way to find out. Let’s see how much good Paa’s advice would do him.
~~~~~
Pran would always wash his own clothes every Wednesday at exactly 6:05 pm at the laundromat.
How Pat knew this piece of information? Well, the laundromat was a nice place to hang out, and he liked talking to Pran. It was easy, comfortable.
He also liked the feeling of someone being there.
Living away from home, in a dormitory, could get really lonely at times. So the laundromat became his sanctuary.
It was quiet enough so he could even do some of his assignments, and the sound of the washing machines was calming, as was the everlasting presence of Pran.
Pran, whose scent surrounded him like a warm hug.
After a while he’d notice certain patterns, and Pran had quite a lot of those.
It was endearing, really.
And now it was time to actively look out for them and everything suspicious. Time to watch Pran closely, to find out the difference.
After all, he was on a quest. A quest to get to the bottom of Pran’s laundry secret.
Just the right job for Pat, spy extraordinaire. He’d always been good with spot the difference pictures as a child. He got this!
~~~~~
He hasn’t got this. He looks, he really does. But there doesn’t seem to be any difference in the way Pran washes his and Pat’s clothes.
But instead there are other things he notices.
He notices the way Pran would always measure the exact amount of washing powder, making sure it’s evenly distributed in the beaker.
He notices the way Pran’s lean fingers would methodically fold every piece of clothing with utter care, making sure there aren’t any wrinkles.
He notices Pran slightly touching his hands, guiding him with patience, as he showed him for the trillionth time how to fold his own laundry. He even notices his heart skipping a beat at the touch, shrugging it off as him being surprised by the sensation.
He never questions why it happens over and over again.
He notices the glint in Pran‘s eyes, when he teases him about still being unable to do his own laundry. He notices how Pran, while complaining, still can’t help but smile at Pat‘s antics, dimples appearing on his cheeks.
Again and again he notices his scent, like fresh laundry, but also something else. The urge to just bury his nose in Prans chest almost overwhelming. He’s spellbound and even more obsessed with finding out the source of this spell, the secret behind Pran‘s scent.
He notices Pran helping other costumers at the laundromat and can’t help but wonder, if he helps them the same way he helps Pat.
Something about that thought irks him.
He notices all these things and still can’t figure out what they mean.
Well he never was as good in ‚connect the dots‘, as he was in ‚spot the difference’ as a child.
But in the end he always managed. He just took a little longer.
~~~~~
And then one day he notices something else. At first he can’t quite believe his eyes. He must have been mistaken. But no. He is certain. Pran, neat and tidy Pran, is a laundry thief.
And not just any laundry. Dirty laundry. Pat‘s dirty laundry!
Pran POV
He still remembers the first time Pat came to the laundromat.
Pat had looked like a lost puppy, completely overwhelmed with the task of doing his laundry.
He’d just been standing there, big bag of laundry in front of him, looking at the washing machine like his stare alone could magically make the machine do the laundry for him.
Well, in a way it had worked.
While the machine wasn’t really impressed, Pran couldn’t help but find it cute, find him cute.
It wasn’t really Pran‘s job to go to costumers and help them out with their laundry. He was mostly there for giving out change, providing help should any difficulties arise and for watching out that no one stole clothes out of the machines. Which, in hindsight, quite ironic.
But watching Pat fumble around with the machine, he just couldn’t help but approach the poor guy.
„That’s not the washing machine, that’s the dryer,” he said teasingly from behind.
Pat let out a shriek and stumbled forward, almost falling over his bag of laundry.
After having recovered, he turned around with a sulky look on his face, more like a 5-year old than a grown man of almost 20, and proclaimed dramatically „I could have died.“
Cute.
„Aaah. Bad first impression, my bad. I actually came to help, not to attempt murder.“
„Not exactly helpful,“ he grumbled, kicked puppy look.
„I meant with your laundry. “ Pran couldn’t suppress a smile anymore. „I’m Pran. I work here, and you looked a bit like a hot mess there, to be honest.“
„I did not.“ Pat complained loudly, but after a quick look at his laundry bag, he reluctantly admitted „I mean, maybe a little”
And then, with a smug grin, he added “Especially the hot part.”
Pran couldn’t exactly disagree with that.
~~~~
That’s how it all started.
„Praaan!“ Pat whined for the third time, interrupting Pran from his drawing „I need help! The washing machine is doing weird things again. I think this one really has it out for me. “
The washing machine was doing fine. Pran wasn’t. Pat was wearing a tank top and shorts so short it should be forbidden, all while looking at him with his pouty lips and adorable puppy eyes.
Why did Pat have to be so adorable, and hot at the same time. It really wasn’t fair. It was bad for his sanity.
~~~~
Helping out once probably could have been excused. Maybe even the second time.
But not long and tending to Pat practically became part of his routine.
He even had him written down in his calendar!
And then Pat started coming to the laundromat just to hang out.
Pran even thought it might mean something. It did have to, cause who in their right mind would want to spend half of their free time at a laundromat?
Apparently, Pat did.
It was driving him mad. Maybe it was contagious.
Cause the more Pran got to know Pat, the less he understood himself.
Pat was messy and loud, oftentimes behaving more like a big baby.
Nothing that should be attractive to Pran, and yet.
Pran wasn’t subtle with his attraction either. Or with his flirting.
Longing stares. Spending way too much time tending to Pats laundry problems.
You had to be blind and a little dumb not to realize.
Part of him was still half convinced all this had to be some weird courting technique of Pat. Cause who was this bad at laundry?
Sometimes Pat even flirted back. Really, more often than not he even started it himself.
Saying things like “Your dimples are so cute. Will I be as cute as you, if I have dimples like that.”
But then nothing ever really happened.
So with time, Prans attempts got more desperate, stumbling against him, making a mess out of him, not able to look away as he changed his shirt.
Sometimes, Pran would lean in really close, eye contact and all, but then Pat would just end up ruffling his hair or start tickling him and that was it.
He could tear his hair out.
Maybe if Pat couldn’t ruffle his hair anymore, he would finally get a clue.
~~~~~~
Or maybe, and that’s a thought Pran tried to avoid, maybe he really just saw him as nothing more than the friendly worker at the laundromat.
At rare times a little voice in his head would suggest that he should just call out the elephant in the room. Talk to Pat.
But Pran was many things, being vocal about his feelings was none of them.
Making himself vulnerable. Risk hurting his own heart. No. That was for other people.
Even if it meant being stuck in that weird courting game they were playing.
So, nothing happened. Nothing changed.
Pran continued to pander to Pat’s laundry difficulties. Pat continued to be oblivious to Pran’s inner turmoil, continued to not notice a thing.
Not even, when Pran started taking some of his clothes.
~~~~~~
The first time it happened had been by accident.
It had been a Wednesday evening. Laundry day.
That day he had decided it was time to teach Pat about the importance of sorting laundry.
But not long and Pat had started playing around with his clothes, trying to sort them by taking the term “juggle around” too literal.
To no ones’ surprise but Pats it ended with a mess on the floor. At least Pat had the decency to look somewhat rueful afterwards, even picking up his clothes under the scrutiny of Pran’s judgemental gaze.
Still, one sock hidden behind Pran’s very own laundry bag got overlooked and thus continued to annoy Pran to no end, until he decided to pick it up himself.
He had just wanted to put that annoying disturbance out of his sight, back on Pat’s sorting pile, but instead of doing that, he had carelessly put it into his own bag of clothes sitting on the floor nearby. The truth is, the moment he had bend down to pick up the sock, he had gotten distracted. Just one second of weakness, of looking up, looking at Pat, turned out to be a big mistake. There is something to be said about a change of perspective. In many ways.
He only realized his mistake when he went to do his own laundry, but instead of giving the sock back or putting it in his own washing machine he put it aside and kept it.
It was on impulse, like some invisible force pulled him to keep the sock.
Afterwards, he went back to work and forgot all about it until he was back at home.
~~~~~~
What had gotten into him? Why would he take a dirty sock with him?
He should just throw it away. It wouldn’t be missed.
That’s not what he did.
No.
Maybe the smell of laundry detergent had finally gotten to him because he has no other explanation to why he’d otherwise ever think of smelling on a used sock.
He knew there were lots of people who were into that, but he’d always thought this a little strange.
What’s to like about dirty socks?
But now, he got it in a way. There was a certain comfort in the smell, that was still so distinctly Pat.
It was like a part of Pat’s messy self had somehow made its way into his home, disrupting his usual order, allowing him to let go in a way that was unfamiliar to him.
And it should have been repelling or frightening. But somehow it was not.
Maybe that was the truly frightening part.
It was one thing to be crushing hard. But this?
It was too much. So, he threw the sock away, tried to push this away.
He’d always been good at suppressing things.
~~~~~~~
Two weeks later it happened for the second time. This time not by accident.
In a feeling of overwhelm he put one of Pat’s sweaty tank tops, trenched in sweat and something else that might be iced tea, into his own laundry bag.
Part of him felt ashamed and bad for doing it, another part wanted to consider it compensation for all the hardships he had to endure because of Pat.
Besides, Pat still hadn’t returned most of the shirts Pran had lent him. It’s not like he’d complain though. He likes the thought of Pat wearing his shirts, of Pat walking around like he’s Pran’s boyfriend.
Which he’s not.
And the longer he steals Pats clothes, the less he can just wash away his guilt.
He knows he has to stop doing this. It’s not ok. While he hasn’t done anything of a sexual nature involving Pats clothes, it’s still dubious territory. At least without Pat’s consent.
He decides to quit. One last time and then it’s time to get clean.
But pushing things off never has done anyone any good. It's probably karma that he gets caught in the act. For his last theft he decided to take one of Pats old shorts, the one with all the holes, that looks like it should have been thrown away years ago. He’s holding it close to his face, inhaling slightly before he’d have to hide it away, when suddenly, Pat, who had gone to the toilet less than a minute ago, sneaks up behind him and whispers softly and teasingly into his right ear, "Pran, what are you doing to my pants?"
Pran is thunderstruck. Heart beating fast, he looks back at Pat and knows that there’s no use in running away. Looks like he‘ll have to come clean sooner than he thought and in quite a different way than he had planned.
Pran. Pran is a laundry thief.
He recalls this one time one of his favorite tops had gone missing. He’d blamed it on the washing machine back then.
They did have it out for him. They might as well eat his clothes.
It was a reasonable fear.
But why would Pran steal his dirty clothes?
Well, he also has a theory on that. A theory that if true, should probably sound strange to him.
But people like all kinds of stuff. And who is he to judge?
He smells Pran all the time, is practically obsessed with his scent.
The thought of tidy, always clean, and good smelling Pran, liking his dirty clothes, intrigues him even.
Yes, he likes the idea of that, a huge amount
He imagines Pran sitting on his bed, pressing Pat’s still sweaty tank top to his nose, inhaling him deep. He imagines Pran liking the feeling of his sweat on his skin, rubbing his shirt all over his body like he wants to wash himself clean with it.
Fuck! Where did these thoughts come from? He wants Pran to do that, wants Pran to do even more.
~~~~~~
Suddenly all his observations of the last few days are coming back to him, his sisters voice in his head telling him “You might have just missed something.”
He knows now what all these things meant. He knows why he’s so obsessed with Pran’s smell, so obsessed with finding out the secret behind it. He knows why he really spends so much time at the laundromat.
It’s so obvious. It makes so much sense.
He likes Pran. He’s in love with him. Wants to spend as much time as possible with him. He wants to kiss him, to touch him, tease him, wants to talk with him for hours.
And –
He remembers the way Pran looks at him, the way he touches him, the way he smiles at him.
No, he’s pretty sure Pran doesn’t behave like this around the other people at the laundromat. He thinks he is an exception. He thinks Pran might like him back.
He wants Pran to like him back.
Wants Pran to be his boyfriend.
But first he’s got to confront him. There’s probably a reason Pran hasn’t said anything. There’s also the fact that Pran has stolen his clothes.
He might use this to his advantage, catch him read-handed.
He’s determined to not let him run away from this conversation.
Cause as much as he’d like to see Pran get all dirty, first, its time to come clean, for both of them.
He can still feel the ghost of Pat’s breath on his neck, a tingling feeling left behind.
He feels bare. This is not how he had envisioned this.
Couldn’t they just kiss and make up or something? Leave the talking for later? What does he even tell him?
He probably could come up with some kind of excuse. But does he even want to?
„Pran?“
Pat sounds cautious, like he’s scared to startle a cat.
„I…what exactly do you think I did?“
Pat’s face lightens up.
„Well, for me it looked like someone can’t get enough of me.“ he says, while repeatedly raising his eyebrows suggestively.
So unserious.
Before Pran can deign him with an answer though, Pat beats him to it.
„But…I also saw you the other day.“
Oh.
„What did you see?“
„Come on Pran, you know exactly what!
It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m flattered. If you’d asked me I’d have given you my clothes for free.
Well mostly for free. Be my boyfriend first na?“
„Wh..at?“
„I’ve seen the way you look at me, just admit you like me.“
„Oh you're so full of yourself. You are obviously the one that likes me, asking me to be your boyfriend. Why don’t you go down on your knees and declare your love for me!“
He doesn’t expect Pat to do just that.
„Pran. I like you. I love you. I’m head over heels for you.“
He beams at him, eyes gleaming with determination.
This man is ridiculous. Pran is /not/ charmed by this!
„Will you be my boyfriend now?“
There is some loud clapping and whooping coming from behind them. Pran hadn’t even noticed that customers had entered the laundromat. Someone yells „Just say yes.“
Pran feels himself redden.
„Urgh, shut up!“
„That can be arranged.“
With a wicked grin on his face Pat leans slightly forward, his lips now only a few centimeters away from Pran’s, his eyes looking at Pran questioningly.
Pran can feel Pat’s breath against his mouth, when he whispers softly „Can I kiss you?“
Pran is painfully aware of the audience, but…Fuck it!
He bridges the gap between them by placing his hand on Pat's neck and gently drawing him close. Pat's lips feel so soft he can't help but take his bottom lip into his mouth and nibble on it. Pat, the sneaky bastard, uses that opportunity to slide his tongue into Prans mouth, slowly exploring every inch of it. Pran can still taste the curry he probably had for lunch on Pat’s tongue. He can’t wait for it to be his own home-made curry one day. Can’t wait to feed him something he cooked himself.
He’s also seen Pat eat, it’s messy. He wants his food to be the reason Pat gets messy. He wants…
As Pat’s right hand slowly begins to travel down his back, he barely manages to suppress a moan, reminding himself that they are in fact in public and not alone.
He doesn’t think he is ready for this much exhibitionism just now, so he gently pushes Pat away. And wow is Pat a sight to behold. His lips red and swollen, his hair a right mess. Damn!
„Is that a yes?“ Pat's eyes sparkle, his smile once again lightening up his whole face.
Pran still slightly out of breath is at a loss for words. So instead of answering he just kisses him again, the lips only lightly touching this time, but lingering as long as possible before he finally feels ready to give Pat his final answer.
„Yes, you dumbass! It's a yes!“
„You even have a washing machine at home?
For what? You work at a laundromat!“
„Yes, so?“
„But you wash your clothes there!“
„Yeah I get to use the machine for free. Living costs got more expensive, gotta save where you can. And it’s not like I got anything better to do.“
„What about me? Aren’t I better? You wouldn’t pick doing laundry over me, right?“
„Pat…are you jealous of the washing machines?“
Pat pouts.
„It’s just…I don’t like them.“
„Bet I could make you like them.” Pran purrs into his ear, before vigorously pushing him against the washing machine, crowding him in.
There’s a wicked grin on his face, eyes sparkling with mischief. Still, Pat is not prepared for Pran practically jumping him like a cat in heat, pressing his back against the top of the washing machine and having his wicked way with him.
Guess, he could learn to like them after all.
The end!
