Title: Subscription Renewal
Author: LM Simpson (Kady the Red Panda)
Pairing(s): Tintin/Haddock
Rating: M
Warning(s): slash, transformation, body horror, morbidness
Disclaimer: I'm broke. I sure won't increase my bank account balance with this, because the only payment I will ever receive for this will be my and other's enjoyment.
Other tidbits: I would highly recommend reading "My Master's Secret" if you haven't yet. This is connected to that particular fic, which was an AU fic where Tintin is a sorcerer that has the ability to shapeshift into a dog, among other things. I also wrote this for the Tintin_kinkmeme, where Tintin and Snowy are immortal and Haddock is given the same gift later on.
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Taking advantage of his still-fresh dog senses, Tintin sniffed the morning air. There was fresh-sizzled bacon in a frying pan, eggs bubbling in the other toast crisping in the toaster, coffee as it sifted though the filter and into the pot. And then there were the living occupants: his own scent, Snowy's scent, the cat's scent, Nestor's scent, the fainting scent of Calculus as he scurried out the kitchen and to the lab with a previously toasted piece of bread stuffed in his mouth, and…
Him.
Haddock smelled of tobacco, liquor, and fresh clothing, but there was another scent that Tintin could not normally smell. The captain smelled… happy. He could not describe it with adjectives typically reserved to smells, but rather those connotated with emotions. It was a content smell, a breakfast smells delicious smell, a what a beautiful day it looks outside smell. It was a smell that he was sure that he would be able to smell with other people if it smelled it on them. But for some reason, when he smelled a similar thing on the professor, it did not give the same reactions and emotions within him as it did with the captain. For the captain, it was a smell that made him glad to be living with the older man, one that made him all fuzzy and warm inside, and one that made him want to stay him no matter what happened. It was a feeling he never felt before (at least, not one that he could recall), and he wondered what else the scent could mean to him.
Maybe this is what Snowy smells when I'm around, he thought.
He closed his eyes, relaxed, and sniffed deeper and faster, enjoying what he could of the scent before his nose completed the shift from dog mode to human mode. He heard the captain say something, but he was too drunk from the scent to care whether it was directed to him.
It was the butler that weaned him from Haddock's lovely, happy scent.
"Eagerly anticipating your breakfast this morning, aren't you, Master Tintin?"
His awareness unfogged. He opened his eyes to a confused Haddock and, typical for Nestor, the butler's poker face. As he breathed through his nose, the scent was almost non-existant. The food on the plate Nestor held by the ends dominated.
He chuckled nervously. "Erm, yes. It smells so good, Nestor!"
"…Well then, I'm glad that you enjoy our usual morning meal, Master Tintin. I will gladly cut pancake Sundays to keep you satisfied if that's what you want…"
The plated "clinked" as it met with the table. Tintin whispered a quick prayer and then cut a chunk of scrambled egg in half with his fork.
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"'Oh, it smells so good, Nestor!' Well, of course Tintin, good job stating the obvious! Geez, I can be such a dope sometimes!"
Tintin body slammed belly first onto his bed. He turned over, readjusted himself, and folded his arms behind his back so that his hands cupped his head.
"Then again," he sighed, "What else could I have said? It's not like I could tell them that I was noticing how wonderful the captain smelled."
He moved his trunk forward and looked at Snowy, who stared at him back by the bookcase.
"Say, Snowy… Do you think that I'm crazy for going so… gooey at the captain's scent? Or do you think that it means something?"
Snowy's nose wrinkled. He whined and gave the best doggy frown that he could give.
"Hmm… It would be better to talk to you about this if I was a dog… Too bad that the transformation is always so painful…" Man and dog both winced just thinking about it.
His eyes lit up. "Wait…"
Snowy's tush hit the wall as Tintin squatted down in front of the bookcase, causing him to move back. He located the encyclopedia reference tome with his finger and whisked it out between its neighbors. Inside the large book was a compartment formed from carving out layers of pages, and inside that was a small, black leather book that had definitely seen better days.
The reporter sighed. "I really do not like using this, but if there's a way to shapeshift less painfully, then I guess it will benefit both of us…"
Snowy moved closer and leaned over the book as Tintin skimmed through the pages. The pages and their contents blurred like whirlwinds for the terrier; he wondered how Tintin could understand anything the book stated.
"Aha!" Tintin eventually exclaimed. "Well, I'll be- there is a potion to significantly dull the pain! And even better, I can collect most of these ingredients while I'm on my afternoon walk with the captain! Yes! That means I can be more covert about this now! Gimme five, Snowy!"
Snowy licked his palm.
Tintin blushed at his sudden stupidity. "Oh right. You can't give me five…"
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"Just what are you doing, Tintin?"
Haddock stood on the dirt trail as Tintin followed Snowy to a nearby house. The terrier wagged its tail and panted, looking at his master while he picked some lavender from around the front yard garden. Tintin smiled as he placed it in a large satchel, along with other herbs and flowers he snatched from other residences and within the forest.
"Tintin," he said again, "Just what are you doing?"
Tintin squatted and petted Snowy with his free hand. "I'm getting everything together to make a special nip."
The captain raised a brow. "…Nip?"
He rose upright."Well, it's like catnip, only it appeals mostly to dogs. I think that I would like to try making it for Snow—HEY!"
Haddock tore through the bag. "Lavender, wintergreen, belladonna, moonflower, wolfsbane? Blistering barnacles, I think that this combination will kill your dog, lad!"
"I wouldn't be making it if I thought that it would kill Snowy, Captain," Tintin retorted before grabbing the satchel back. "I'm not stupid!"
The redhead instantly felt guilty at his tone. His face turned red and looked down to a confused Snowy. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Captain…"
To Tintin's surprise, his friend was not the least bit angry, at least not at face value. "That's alright to get all revved up like that, Tintin. I know you're not stupid-I'm just concerned that's all! Snowy is just as much family to me as I'm sure he is to you…"
Haddock was rarely this introspective, but he liked seeing his sensitive side for some reason. The same feelings he felt earlier emerged again. A crimson faced Tintin gazed down at Snowy again. This time, he weakly smiled, leaving the dog even more confused. "Only Snowy would make me go around picking flowers from other people's houses, I guess…"
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He's hiding something from me, Haddock thought, shuffling back and forth about his bedroom. He's normally not this secretive…
The reporter was usually so willing to talk to him about his thoughts and dreams, but lately he had been acting suspicious. Tintin was never much of a snapper, and he never kept people out the kitchen when he was cooking, so something was up. There was no way in hell that Tintin was making that toxic flower stew for Snowy. He knew more about the sea than of the earth, but even he knew that wolfsbane was poisonous. The lad would probably murder someone to protect that dog if he had to—why would he willingly attempt to harm him?
He wouldn't, he thought, because it isn't for Snowy. It's for someone else. Wait…
…What if that 'someone else' was me?
When he snapped at him during their walk, there wasn't just because of the obvious regret that he yelled at someone, but also because there was an emotion he could see in the lad's eyes: guilt. And why would there be guilt? Because he was going to murder him for some reason, whatever it was.
He got an idea: I should've had made him primary beneficiary…
He gulped, glad that it was Nestor that prepared dinner, and not Tintin.
In a logical world, it sounded so ludicrous. But yet it made so much sense…
His door slammed against the wall as he stomped towards the reporter's room.
"Snowy, go under the bed now," he heard Tintin say on the other side of the door.
Yes, that would be a very wise move on your part if my hunch is correct, Snowy!
He gave Tintin a chance to open the door on his own. A half-minute later, time was up. When he attempted to twist the doorknob open, he cursed to himself.
"TINTIN! Let me in, lad!"
All he could hear was heavy breathing. Nothing painful, but heavy breathing all the same.
"Dammit, Tintin! I'm breaking this door down if you don't open it at the count of five. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! ... FIVE!"
He took a couple of steps back and shot his slippered foot against the knob several times until the door nudged free. When he opened it further, he immediately regretted even thinking about doing this.
He had seen some disgusting things in his life, but this topped the list. His mind instantly forgot about the conspiracy plot that had just seconds before possessed him. His face bleached itself white. His pupils shrunk. His jaw dropped as far as it could go.
Tintin was on the floor, completely nude and lying on his back. His quiff was gone, as all of his hair was drooped all over his face. What Haddock could see of the lad's ears was only because the entire ear seemed to be stretching, slapping against his cheeks as his head moved. His nose was a leathery black and flattening. His wide, flattened tongue was so long that it skipped his chin and dribbled saliva onto his chest.
The horror show did not end there.
Haddock could hear crunching and popping as he saw Tintin's limbs adjust more like a four-legged animals than of a bipedal primate. The fingers and toes elongated and flattened, with the nails sharpening into curved claws. The captain's eyes followed the trail of hair (or was it fur?) that traveled from his head, from his armpits, from his chest, from his pubic area. As great as the urge to purge was, he felt compelled to keep taking in the details.
A dark sheath was swallowing up Tintin's member. Something pointed and fleshy emerged from under the boy when he managed to roll to his side. Finally free, the tail began making jerked movements.
Haddock involuntarily retched, and vomited all over his slippers and floor. He took a couple of steps back and clasped his faint feeling head before spinning once.
And then, for Haddock, the lights went out.