Ficcage!
PLEASE BE WARNED THAT IF YOU DO NOT LIKE SLASH, DON'T READ THIS.
Okay, so I have more ficcage for everybody.
This time, it's based on both Inglourious Basterds and the actors who portray the characters in the movie. Most notably, August Diehl and Daniel Bruhl, Dieter Hellstrom and Fredrick Zoller, respectively.
Title: Clear Gloss
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Daniel Bruhl and August Diehl have more chemistry offscreen than they do onscreen, but that doesn't stop them from sharing a fetish or two while still in uniform.
Notes: This was written in response to a prompt in the Inglourious Basterds RPF community, operation_kino
It went like this:
August/Daniel! Boytoy porn! After the restaurant scene, August drags off still-uniformed Daniel. Porn with complete Nazi-uniforms and kinky roleplaying ensues, as repressed!Gusti needs the excuse of acting like Hellstrom, since he's totally not gay ;-) Dani, after initial confusion, discovers his inner sub. Spaaaanking! And boot licking! Yaay!
----------------------
As the gallant director Quentin Tarantino gestured for the cameras to shut off for the night, August Diehl and Daniel Bruhl signed out loud. The hour was late and their scene had taken hours to complete, mainly due to the ineptness of the other actors. They flubbed their lines constantly and dragged the small scene out into a lengthy battle between the young director and the even younger actors.
“Take off for the night, everyone. We'll pick back up in the morning!” Quentin hollered over the dim of the overhead lights and the various machinery operators, as they attempted to shut down the cameras and microphones, then store them away safely for the night. “August! Daniel!”
The pair, already standing up from the ornately dressed cafe table, looked in the other man's direction, weary smiles on their faces.
“Come in for eight tomorrow, all right? We're going to finish this scene and move right to the shooting for Nation's Pride.”
“Sure thing,” August commented, making a small salute to the brilliant director.
Daniel nodded, as he headed for the single doorway that led out into the larger portion of the cafe, the extras already filed out for the night and the scene left as is until the designers came back in the morning to reset it for another round of shooting.
August snatched the taller boy by the hand and led him out onto the street, heading directly for the waiting car that would take the pair to their hotel. The costume designers and dressing staff cried out as they strode right past, remaining in their costumes. They slid messily into the back of the car and giggled like fools, the driver only smiling as he shook his head and made for the Hotel Pont Royal, one of Paris' newer hotels. It still held the nostalgic feel of the 1920's and 1930's and even as the car pulled up and the pair stepped out in their WWII finery, they fit right in as if they had been snapped in a dated photo.
The doorman rolled his eyes at them, assuming them to be just another pair of boys having some fun, or a pair of low-income actors staying in a place far too fancy for the likes of them. August scoffed at the aging porter and flipped him off behind the man's back, scooting into the elevator as Daniel held his hands out for him, the gentle dinging of the lift indicating that the doors would be closing momentarily.
“Come on, Gusti! You'll have to wait for the next one!”
“We're only on the sixth floor, Dani. I could take the stairs!”
The doors closed and the pair were immediately upon each other, mouths pressed together with a sharp inhalation of breath and hands roaming the well-tailored and beautifully fitted uniforms. Neither boy wore gloves as the uniforms did not call for them in a private setting, though in Daniel's left jacket pocket lay a slim pair of white parade gloves, suitable for public displays of finery.
August growled into the taller man's mouth and nipped at the flesh of Daniel's bottom lip, catching it between his bottom teeth and his upper canine, the finely honed little tooth digging in painfully enough that the brunet gasped and pulled away, lifting a hand to touch the assaulted piece of flesh.
“Ow, watch it! We can't have any visible marks! I'll be sitting in that makeup chair for hours to get rid of a scab.”
August chuckled and dropped his lifting hands as the elevator dinged again and the doors parted, revealing the gold and burgundy décor of the sixth floor. He cupped a hand under Daniel's ass and then gave it a firm smack, only fluffing the thick material of the fine uniform instead of delivering the spanking he wished to give the younger actor.
He remembered vividly their last encounter, when Daniel had actually begged to be let out of the light restraints August had placed him in. The spanking he had received forced the younger man to walk awkwardly for two days afterwards, and then there was the rather embarrassing request to avoid having to sit down for any length of time during shooting, because his ass had been so severely beaten.
But the look of pain on the brunet's face and the swing of his semi-erect cock beneath him had been too much of an appetizing sight for August to stop. So what if he had gone too far with it? Daniel had still released and what a release it was. The stains of it were still in the pale sofa cushions and August purposely brought it up each time he sat down, endlessly complaining about the 'dirty spot' on the couch.
“Better hurry up, before I start stripping you down right in the hallway,” he sneered, his tongue snaking out to lick at one exposed canine, his lips curled in a crooked little grin.
“Of course, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer.”
Daniel stopped abruptly and clicked his heels together, the thick leather of the polished jackboots clunking in an intensely sexy manner. He turned on his heels again as August reached out for him, scurrying to the end of the hall, where their suite waited. They had stayed in the same set of rooms since filming had begun in Paris and though they would have to check out and be moved elsewhere when filming schedules changed, they made the best of their stay with numerous games, pranks pulled on the staff and noisy parties held with the other actors in mind.
Neither boy had expected Til Schweiger to be such a party animal but once given enough booze to drop a normal-sized man, the gruff German had relaxed and fell into a hilarious rhythm with the two younger men, joking with them and even staying one night after he had imbibed far too much French beer and was unable to make it safely down to the waiting car.
August swallowed audibly and licked his lips again, following the pert backside as Daniel slipped the key card into the lock, the soft beep indicating that he had done it correctly, along with the telltale clicking of the lock as it opened. He turned the handle and slid inside, barely holding the door for August and fumbling for the light switch he knew was there, though it aways seemed to elude him when he desperately needed it.
The elder man slapped Daniel's hands away as he stepped into the room, facing him with a sideways glance while he secured the sliding dead bolt on the door, providing them with utmost privacy and protecting his most valuable asset. Daniel stood in the meager light of the street lamps, illuminated from behind by the broad, almost curtain-less windows. The flimsy but obviously expensive draperies covered the windows but provided nothing for light cover, being used as decoration while the heavier curtains lay pulled to the side.
A few small hairs stood out from Daniel's once-immaculately coiffed hair, a casualty brought on by roaming hands in the elevator and the ruffle of the softer strands at the nape of his neck, as he rubbed nervously at them, his eyes locked on August's as they watched him hungrily from the entryway. Aroused by the other man's earlier military agreement, August left the Gestapo hat upon his head and stalked over to Daniel, fisting his hand in the Private's jacket, a firm tug bringing them close enough together that Daniel could smell the cigarettes and ginger ale on August's breath, a side effect of filming with real cigarettes and fake champagne.
“What would a Private be doing in a Major's hotel room? You should be killed for this infraction!” August growled, his voice loud in the silent quarters. “Tell me why you're here.”
Daniel hid the small smile he was about to reveal, instantly attempting to straighten himself and lifting a hand in salute to the higher officer.
“Forgive me, Sturmbannfuhrer Hellstrom. I was told to wait here for you.”
“And who told you to wait?”
Daniel swallowed, excited by the anger and domination in August's voice, the smaller actor certainly channeling Dieter Hellstrom as he performed in private.
“Doctor Goebbels mentioned that you had plans to tell me. Something to do with the film premier.”
August let go of the other's jacket and brushed the fabric down to work the wrinkles out of it. He was just short enough compared to the other actor, that Daniel seemed imposing, even when playing the submissive role.
“He was right!” August snarled, a hand scooping up and under Daniel's chin, the fingers digging into the soft flesh beneath his jaw. “I have very important business to discuss with you.”
“Of course, Sturmbannfuhrer Hellstrom. Anything you need.”
August nearly snorted at the desperation he could hear in Daniel's voice. It was such a tease, to be dressed so provocatively and forcing oneself to behave; to draw out the pleasure of the situation and stave off release until the very end. He was sure it was due to the taboo nature of the uniforms they wore. As German as both men were, it was illegal for them to parade themselves around in Nazi uniforms, let alone even basic Nazi paraphernalia.
“Get on your knees, Soldat,” August ordered, his mind slipping into Dieter-mode. “Face the couch.”
He let Daniel move and settled himself down upon the overly cushioned piece of furniture, his body cradled by the softness of the pillows and warmed by the thoughts he continued to have. Daniel faced him on his knees as ordered, one of August's legs on either side of the taller man, though there was enough distance between them that he was not directly against him.
“Back up about a foot.”
Daniel obeyed, his head bowed slightly, mischievous brown eyes staring out from under his brow.
August lifted his right foot first, gently pressing its dusty sole against the front of Daniel's uniform, feeling the satisfying push as the younger man gave some resistance to the weight of it. Both of the Private's hands came up to circle the dainty ankle enclosed in a thick layer of polished leather, the pink of his skin mirrored in the shiny surface, bruising its black lustre with a hideous shade of peach.
“You know what I want, Schutze Zoller.”
Daniel nodded from his partially crouched position, the uniform pants chafing uncomfortably against his ass and groin. The dress uniform was well made but not designed for active movements, only for sitting in the grand cafe and filming a lengthy conversation.
He dipped his head and lifted, pausing for a brief second as August repositioned himself lower on the cushions, allowing his leg to be held entirely by the other man, the smile on his face both inviting and dangerous. He licked at his dry lips and let his lips part in a nearly silent moan, as Daniel hunkered over the boot and kissed the glossy surface, his lips leaving the barest hint of moisture.
The spot faded as the boots warmed again, the room stifling in its heat. The warmth from Daniel's hands added to it and August tugged at the buttons of his jacket, viciously pulling at his tie as well, desperate for a bit of cooler air to reach his upper body. His leg was turned and he could feel each individual kiss against his leg, but the ones on or around his foot went unnoticed inside, as the leather simply became to thick for it to register.
Daniel looked up along the well-formed leg, the fabric of August's uniform pants clinging to the muscled limb, leading directly to the source of his intense arousal. The tip of the younger actor's tongue poked from between his lips and he gently licked a tiny swathe of boot, the streaks of saliva sitting on the polished material, smeared by his lips as he added a kiss in its wake.
“Ahh, do that and it'll be my end, Soldat,” August whispered, his voice losing its casual drawl and gaining the clipped tone of the suspicious Sturmbannfuhrer.
“As I said, Herr Hellstrom, 'anything you need'.”
August moaned out loud and watched with wide eyes as Daniel began to lick the length of the boot, covering the surface over August's shin, then moving back to the foot, pressing firm kisses along the toe line and right to the thick stitches that lined the sole's upper edge. He tongued the stitches, ignorant of the dust on the boots or the street grime that may have ground itself into the grooves.
The bottoms were nearly flat so they had no real tread to hold dirt and the boots were almost exclusively worn indoors while filming, but it was exceptionally arousing to August, to see Daniel dampening his boots so that the edges shone as brilliantly as the upper portion. Daniel's breath fogged the shininess occasionally and August was pleased to see him lick the condensation from the surface, retaining the leather's beautiful gloss.
“Drop it and move closer to me,” August ordered suddenly, keeping his foot raised somewhat, to give Daniel an idea on where to sit. “I want you to grind yourself against my boot. Part your legs and sit on your backside, so my foot is flat against your crotch.”
The orders were given with the clipped intensity that Dieter Hellstrom was best known for, the fire in August's eyes shining as brilliantly as the gloss that blocked the view of Daniel's groin. The lesser officer groaned as he parted his legs entirely and rested back on his hands, his feet firmly planted beneath the edge of the sofa, giving him just enough leverage to grind up against the firm leather.
August rolled his ankle each time Daniel lifted himself to be touched, stroking him awkwardly through sock and leather and thick cotton slacks. The scratchiness of the fabric must have been maddening to the younger man, though the jockey-type shorts they wore underneath would certainly stave off some of the itch.
“You're going to ruin that uniform if you're not careful, Private,” August warned, lifting his foot for a moment as he allowed Daniel to at least undo the fly and jacket, hefting himself out of his underwear and allowing the turgid erection to rest against his belly as he unbuttoned the jacket. It and the shirt beneath it were lifted and held under his chin, as he needed both hands to hold himself upright, his lower body once again rubbing furiously against the firmness of August's boot.
“Ohh, Fredrick...” August groaned, purposely working his ankle with a bit more force, watching with rapt fascination as the leather sole stroked the other's cock, tugging the foreskin back and forcing it back over the head in a vicious rhythm.
Daniel was caught off guard as he was called by his character's name, his mouth open while he balanced himself on one hand, awkwardly thrusting still, though he used the other hand to hold the shirt and jacket up even higher, terrified of soiling the uniform. He opened his eyes long enough to see August's hands seemingly moving of their own volition, unbuttoning his fly and jacket, putting himself into a state of undress akin to Daniel's own, his cock taken in hand, however.
August took in a deep breath and forced his foot down just a hair more, giving Daniel a stronger surface to move against, his heel resting on the floor so that he would not strain his muscles to keep it above the other's groin. He was careful to avoid the tender flesh below Daniel's cock and even while lifting his foot slightly-to press even harder, earning a raspy cry from the younger man-August stroked himself, his thumb working broad circles over the glistening head of his already leaking member.
The leather of his boot creaked, as did that of Daniel's boots, as he rocked himself ever harder, his hair falling down over his brow, now free of its professionally groomed position. He blew air up at it to shoo the offending strands away, only managing more of a mess and frustrating himself, so he gave up entirely, focusing on the ache that had begun to rear its head from between his legs.
Daniel panted heavily and as his fingers began to scratch at his chest, where they rested to keep the shirt and jacket from sliding down too low, he tipped his head back and groaned into the chill of the room, his cock twitching hard against the molesting boot. He was at a position low enough that his semen struck the boot's underside and his own belly, dripping from the soiled leather to pool in a cooling puddle around his navel.
He stopped thrusting as the shivers began to subside and while still supporting himself with one hand, Daniel took August's boot back in his hand and after catching his eye, began to lick the semen from it, coaxing a low growl and the guttural grunt of a man spilling his seed to issue from August's parted lips. He held on to his shirt for dear life, challenging himself to aim his streams away from it and onto his belly, though the smallest drop of it did land near the last buttonhole, the pearly liquid sure to stain the pristine white fabric.
Daniel let the boot fall to the floor and he carefully reached to the table beside the sofa to snatch a tissue from the decorative box, tidying himself up and kneeling once clean, so that he could button his slacks and at least make himself seem somewhat presentable. He smirked at August from over the other man's knees, the small quakes in the elder man's body still felt as Daniel rested his chin on August's knee.
August sighed heavily and dipped two fingers into the mess on his belly, scooping enough of the cold seed up that he could offer it to Daniel, his eyes wide as the brunet suckled them both into his mouth and cleaned them of the congealed treat. He shoved August's legs apart even further and snuggled down between them, his head down so that he could lick the seed from the other's body, the warm muscle laving broad swathes over the muscled torso and even going so far as to lap along the spent member, chuckling as he felt a strong twitch come from it.
“Okay, okay. You've made your point.”
Daniel smiled as he got to his feet, a hand held out for August to take.
“You're getting better at it every time,” the elder man cooed, nuzzling into Daniel's shoulder as they padded towards the bedroom.
“Being submissive?”
August chortled, punching the taller man in the arm. “No, seducing me.”
Daniel shrugged, slightly confused. “I learned from the best. Dieter Hellstrom isn't just some Gestapo pushover, is he?”
August looked back over his shoulder at the brunet, his eyes lit by the street lamp's gentle glow, the crooked smile on his face offering an insight into the dark character he portrayed so successfully.
“You'll see soon enough, Schutze Zoller.”