3 views
Dalmatian senses "smell" (101 Dalmatian street sexy fanfic... because why not~)
Description: Little did Dante know his older brother dylan could smell his weakness a mile away.
With the grouchiest frown, Dante marched into the bathroom, ushered in by his older brother Dylan.
“I’m not going to ask you again, Dante.” Dylan commanded as his younger brother turned around to face him. “Get in the shower. Now!”
“And I’m not gonna tell you again, Dylan.” The goth dalmatian replied in defiance. “No!”
“Oh for dog’s sake!” The older dalmatan slapped his paw against his face, fed up with his younger brother’s stubborness. “Will you get over it? It won’t kill you to be on your natural coat for one evening!”
“Dylan, this,” Dante stated, gesturing his dark-toned fur, “is my natural coat.”
“There he goes again.” Dylan rolled his eyes.
“The fur beneath it? That’s not me anymore.” He proclaimed dramatically. “And I refuse to be stripped away from my true identity!”
“How many times are we gonna go through this?” Dylan sighed at his brother’s theatrics. “This has nothing to do with you dying your fur black.” He reiterated. “It’s about your smell.”
“What’s so bad about it?” Dante questioned, unmoved.
“Dude, you haven’t showered in three weeks!” The older brother pleaded. “And while I appreciate that you're using deodorant, it's already mixing with your stench and making it worse.”
“Then so be it!” Dante reasserted with pride. “I’ve decided to stay in my true colors from now on. Never to return to my old appearance. And if my smell is the price to pay, then I’ll gladly pay it!”
Dylan scowled, his last slivers of patience wearing incredibly thin. “Ok, you know what? It’s come to this then.” He turned and closed the door, locking it. “Unless you step in that shower and clean yourself, neither of us are getting out of this bathroom. Got it?”
“Pfft, is that your threat?” The younger brother raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Bring it on, brother. I can sit here all day.”
They shot leers at one another. The challenge was on.
Dylan knew it wasn’t going to be as simple. His brother had advantage: he was an expert at sitting and doing absolutely nothing for long periods of time. He himself, on the other hand, couldn’t spend a minute without needing something to occupy himself with. Dylan knew Dante counted on this and that he’d most likely be the first to cede and exit the bathroom.
Of course, he could just go out and lock Dante by himself, but there two problems. Without Dylan there to put pressure on him, Dante would have less of a reason to give in and would just stay put all day, feeding on toothpaste if he had to. Plus, it’d mean that, in order for...
With the grouchiest frown, Dante marched into the bathroom, ushered in by his older brother Dylan.
“I’m not going to ask you again, Dante.” Dylan commanded as his younger brother turned around to face him. “Get in the shower. Now!”
“And I’m not gonna tell you again, Dylan.” The goth dalmatian replied in defiance. “No!”
“Oh for dog’s sake!” The older dalmatan slapped his paw against his face, fed up with his younger brother’s stubborness. “Will you get over it? It won’t kill you to be on your natural coat for one evening!”
“Dylan, this,” Dante stated, gesturing his dark-toned fur, “is my natural coat.”
“There he goes again.” Dylan rolled his eyes.
“The fur beneath it? That’s not me anymore.” He proclaimed dramatically. “And I refuse to be stripped away from my true identity!”
“How many times are we gonna go through this?” Dylan sighed at his brother’s theatrics. “This has nothing to do with you dying your fur black.” He reiterated. “It’s about your smell.”
“What’s so bad about it?” Dante questioned, unmoved.
“Dude, you haven’t showered in three weeks!” The older brother pleaded. “And while I appreciate that you're using deodorant, it's already mixing with your stench and making it worse.”
“Then so be it!” Dante reasserted with pride. “I’ve decided to stay in my true colors from now on. Never to return to my old appearance. And if my smell is the price to pay, then I’ll gladly pay it!”
Dylan scowled, his last slivers of patience wearing incredibly thin. “Ok, you know what? It’s come to this then.” He turned and closed the door, locking it. “Unless you step in that shower and clean yourself, neither of us are getting out of this bathroom. Got it?”
“Pfft, is that your threat?” The younger brother raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Bring it on, brother. I can sit here all day.”
They shot leers at one another. The challenge was on.
Dylan knew it wasn’t going to be as simple. His brother had advantage: he was an expert at sitting and doing absolutely nothing for long periods of time. He himself, on the other hand, couldn’t spend a minute without needing something to occupy himself with. Dylan knew Dante counted on this and that he’d most likely be the first to cede and exit the bathroom.
Of course, he could just go out and lock Dante by himself, but there two problems. Without Dylan there to put pressure on him, Dante would have less of a reason to give in and would just stay put all day, feeding on toothpaste if he had to. Plus, it’d mean that, in order for...
