Fic: The Courtship of Aldo Raine and Hans Landa
Title The Courtship of Aldo Raine and Hans Landa
Chap 5/7
Rating R for drunkenness, boy kisses, yelling in poorly translated German, molestation, almost sex. Yeah guys.
Pairing Aldo/Landa, Landa/Utivich
Summery Desperate for physcal closeness, Landa makes a pretty obvious mistake. Aldo isn't happy.
Notes I'm mean to Landa, that much is obvious. And I don't speak German, but I ran it through a reliable (hopefully) translator, so...
Landa returns with whiskey for the others and a bottle of Schnapps for himself. As rowdy as they were when he left, he knows that they’ll only get worse-and louder-with the addition of more alcohol. But he does it anyway, setting the bottles down on the counter and checking the room for Aldo. Not there, but Utivich is lying boneless on the couch, giggling to himself something awful.
“Where is Aldo?” He risks asking, but knows that the man is either in the bathroom “relieving himself” in some sense, or passed out in his bedroom. Utivich provides little clarification; mostly just giggles and uneven blinks at Landa. His grin is wide and crooked and Landa remembers just how young some of the Basterds are and were. Utivich can’t be more than 23 with those wide eyes and innocence and naivety.
Well, maybe not so naïve as he gets up unevenly from the couch and stumbles to Landa to retrieve the whiskey Landa knows he’s been anticipating. Utivich doesn’t even come close to the counter before he’s falling all over himself-mostly Landa. He has to catch the falling boy and struggle to keep his ground (the boy his far heavier than he appears), but when he rights the two of them, Utivich is giggling in his ear.
This is not what he needs right now.
What Landa wants and needs is Aldo, pure and simple, free from devilish whiskey and in his bed. It’s what he’s been needing for weeks now; weeks of frustration and jacking himself quietly at night, trying to hear through the walls of the apartment to see if Aldo is doing the same. But this is Smithson Utivich here. He’s barely more than a boy to Landa, but Heaven help him if that stops Landa from drawing up the kid’s head and pressing his lips firmly to Smitty’s.
Relief.
Landa pushes Utivich back onto the couch and crawls on top without another thought, because he does need this more than he thought. He needs release and not just by his own hand, but someone stupid enough to touch him and kiss him and someone who’s had the blood of Landa’s soldiers on his hands. Utivich fits the bill, though it’s not even close to what Landa craves. He decides not to care, biting at Utivich’s lips and grinding down against his thigh. Fuck if he could think right now-consequences would be evil-because Utivich is so easy and pliant beneath him; too drunk to know if he wants Landa to continue sucking the life right out of him or if he wants him to get the fuck off because he knows Aldo Raine’s property when he sees it and would prefer not to be killed.
It’s just as Landa come to biting at Utivich’s neck that Aldo returns, slightly sobered from the last Landa saw.
Immediately he’s pulled and thrown from Utivich’s body and onto the floor. Aldo punches him across the jaw, yelling something about something; Landa isn’t in the mood to make himself translate it. He yells back in German, hazy from hormones and the punch to his jaw-blood dribbles out. He imagines the scene must be confusing with the two of them shouting at each other in two different languages and neither knows what the other is saying.
Smitty is confused and drunk as a skunk, but not so far gone as to be surprised when he’s asked to leave. He won’t for another five minutes-until the taxi he calls to pick him up arrives-and Aldo and Landa spend that time growling at each other to no one in particular in their own languages. Utivich gets half the conversation (Aldo’s) but by leaps and bounds his brain struggles to make to comprehend even his own language. But whatever Landa says sounds angry and scorned, though Utivich has always thought German sounded angry.
“Geben Sie mir Ihre schreckliche Meinung, Aldo nicht. Ich habe seit Wochen auf eine Art Zuneigung gewartet, und Sie weigern sich, mir irgendetwas zu geben!” Landa grumbles, leaning against the wall and rubbing his sore, bruising jaw. He feels stubble grate his finger tips. He doesn’t care.
“Shut up with your kraut talk; you’re a GD whore and you know it,” Aldo bites back, “You don’t even fucking care do you?!”
Landa’s eyes widen with anger and he storms over, up close and personal, and snarls in his best English, “Don’t you fucking dare say that I do not care, Aldo Raine.”
Aldo is taken aback by that; so much so that he doesn’t notice Utivich stumbling out of the room, burping something about his ride being there. He’s gone, leaving the two alone, and that just seems to ask for trouble. Immediately Landa begins yelling at him again, loud and passionate, hands clenched at his sides.
“I wait day and night for so much as a smile from you and every wrong time you come to me, molest me in a whirlwind, then never talk about it! Do you know how frustrating that is, to never know when or if the man you’ve come to love is going to touch you! And God knows I cannot talk about it with you because that makes me a faggot, yes? Well fuck you, Mr. Big and Tough, I might be a faggot, but you are… just… pathetic!!”
When Landa goes to his room, tears in his eyes, he’s suddenly pulled back and forced close against Aldo’s body, and before he can think again, Aldo is kissing him. This kiss isn’t like their first-bloody and fighting for dominance-nor is it like any previous-passionate, deep, quick before emotions pull them too deep. This one is slow and soft and Landa finds himself crying harder as his hands find Aldo’s cheek and hip. He sucks slowly at Aldo’s mouth, pushing his tongue in and nearly groaning when Aldo pushes harder forward, bending Landa nearly in half with his arms nestled around his hips.
It’s unbelievable, Landa finds himself thinking with the wall at his back and Aldo’s thigh between his. Unbelievable that this was all it would take to finally get Aldo where he wanted him and finally have him close and groaning into his mouth; the promise of sex Landa had always been thinking of all this time, while Smitty took his place at Aldo’s side-was Aldo’s friend when Landa longed to be in that room with them. He was never allowed there. But, he thinks as he sucks gently on Aldo’s tongue and pushes his hands into his hair, Utivich isn’t allowed here. This is his spot. He belongs here. No one else allowed.
They’re in Aldo’s bed before Landa knows what’s happening and his dull button up has been pulled open. Aldo’s mouth is on his chest, sucking lazily at his nipple while one hand feels a path over his chest and stomach, leaving Landa to pant and whine and writhe while he’s desperately hard just beneath Aldo. He’s familiar with this feeling-agonizing arousal while Aldo has his way. But tonight is different; tonight, Landa will have Aldo. Finally, really have him. And while he isn’t sure if he wants him inside of him or vise versa, he’s excited to finally have full skin against skin and just hold and move and thrust against Aldo until they’re both struck dumb with pleasure and pant together. It’s all he wants and the fact that it’s going to happen nearly finishes him off then and there.
He jumps when Aldo’s hand cups his erection through his trousers; thrusts hard against it and whines his name loudly (he wishes they had neighbors so they could hear him call out Aldo’s name; he craves that victory). And then his trousers are just gone and God help him, Landa lets out a tiny moan of excitement. This is it; he’s so ready for it. The moment he’s been craving for what feels like eternity and it’s finally
Aldo goes limp, snores, and Landa has to bite his hand not to scream with frustration.
He should have known better than to try and fuck a drunk.
TBC!