Fic: The Courtship of Aldo Raine and Hans Landa
Title The Courtship of Aldo Raine and Hans Landa
Chap 6/7
Rating R just because Landa is horny as all get out.
Pairing Aldo/Landa
Summery Fucking a drunk was a bad idea, so Landa takes care of himself. The next morning, Aldo seems to have opened up.
Notes Uh... I enjoy the image of Christoph Waltz jerking it. That's... just about it. Oh, and Landa still gets some colloquialisms wrong because he's actually human and allowed to make mistakes. :/
Landa wakes up the next morning shirtless and in his own bed. For a second he hesitates, wondering if the night previous was only a dream, but doubts this possibility when he truly absorbs his surroundings; his trousers are on and fully closed, no signs of “accidental staining”, though he notices a paper tissue waded up on his floor. He remembers suddenly and groans with annoyance. Aldo, the cock tease, had fallen asleep on top of him and left Landa horny and frustrated with little choice than to take care of it himself.
Back against his bedroom wall, Hans’ hand disappears inside his trousers and strokes himself roughly, crying out unabashedly for once-if Aldo hears, if he awakes, that should be all the encouragement he needs to come and ravish him-while his other hand scrabbles at the wall. He pants brokenly, Aldo, Aldo, Aldo, with the jerking tugs, bucking hard and fantasizing of what could have-should have-been. Aldo’s weight bearing down on him, bite marks at his neck, fucking him roughly into the mattress as their hips knock together unevenly. Hans would keep shouting his name, driving Aldo deeper with his legs around his shoulders and Aldo would swear out his name and climax deep and hot inside him and Hans would come, voice hoarse from screaming his name, claw marks on Aldo’s back and it would be-it would be-it would-Hans’ hand clenches tight, he climaxes against his hand and stomach, tries to breathe without sobbing, and cleans everything up with a napkin. He tosses it to the floor and himself into bed, passing out into a deep, relieved sleep.
That’s where he wakes up. He can hear Aldo stumbling around the kitchen, trying to make coffee or breakfast or something. Landa rolls onto his side, scratches his stomach, and stares at the wall until Aldo knocks at his door five minutes later and pads in uninvited. He sits down in the chair at Landa’s desk and speaks hoarsely; he’s hung-over. Somehow, Landa feels vindicated.
“Hey.”
“Good morning,” his hands go behind his head; completely relaxed. Have I left my shirt open, Mr. Raine? Silly me, hadn’t noticed. Landa glances up and down Aldo’s form.
“Listen, about last night…”
“Ah. I did wonder if you remembered anything,” Landa rolls his eyes, “God knows I wouldn’t if I had been that drunk.”
“Yeah,” Aldo is squinting, even with the dim glow of Landa’s room, only illuminated by the outside light, “Yeah about that. I, uh…”
Landa sits up, sighing, “What? Honestly, I’m annoyed by you right now so just say it and leave.”
“… Sorry for passing out.”
Landa cants his head, surprised, “What?”
“Well look, it ain’t like it’s some big fuckin secret that I want to get into your shorts-gotta pardon the expression there. And I do. Want to get into your shorts. Hans.”
He wrinkles his nose at the bastardization of his name, “Landa is fine.”
“Right.”
Landa fidgets, considers buttoning up his shirt after all. Aldo’s voice stops him.
“So,” he sighs, standing, “Iffin’ you’re up for Round Two, I’d like to give it a go. But one thing, and I gotta stress this; I top. Ain’t no way I’m getting some messa Kraut cock up my ass. Got it?”
“… Chrystal.”
“What?”
“Chrystal clear?”
Aldo groans, rubbing his face with his hands. Landa frowns, “Say that when I ask if it’s clear.”
“… Oh, right.”
“Whatever. I’m making bacon. You can come out of your little Kraut nest if you want any.”
Aldo leaves, Landa watches him, then follows like the desperate bitch he knows he is. Fine, he can judge and degrade himself, but Aldo is finally being civil to him without the direct intention of molestation and hell is Landa will pass up civility (and maybe molestation). He joins Aldo in the kitchen, forgoing his entire morning routine-brush teeth, wash face, shave, comb hair-to be close to him again. After rubbing one out last night, his dreams had followed the suite, leaving him more frustrated and more ready to find himself under Aldo and filled with delicious Apache co-
“Landa, wake up!” he practically yells straight at Landa’s face, like he has for the last two calls of his name. Landa blinks; reality is back. His pants feel tight.
“Pardon?”
“Eggs, motherfucker. Do you want eggs with your breakfast?”
“Oh, yes, that would be lovely,” Lovely and unnecessary. Landa can’t feel his stomach craving food over the tight trousers he suddenly finds himself in. Aldo doesn’t seem to notice, just carries on with breakfast and ignores the Hell out of him. Landa briefly envisions himself sidling up behind Aldo, hand pressing over his crotch, telling him he isn’t hungry for anything but his delicious, uncut Apache co-
“Yoo hoo!” There is a plate of bacon and eggs stuffed in Landa’s face; he goes cross-eyed and accepts it. He wonders if Aldo can read his mind and is just fucking with him now.
Oh he’d love that.
When he sits at the kitchen table and eats without much of a word otherwise, Landa tries to formulate a plan; hopefully one that involves-Landa glances up at Aldo briefly, checking-getting some Apache co-
“How far’d we get last night?”
Fuck him.
“Nowhere. Just more of your half-witted molestations before you passed out on my chest,” Landa bites his fork in annoyance.
“You’re not bitter, are you?” Aldo half smiles with a mouth full of bacon.
“Christ, no, what would give you that idea?”
He chews and drinks his milk without answering Landa; Landa wonders why he wants him as badly as he does.
“I like it.”
“What?”
“You bein’ all hot an’ bothered over there. Tells me one thing, Landa.”
“And that is?”
Aldo drinks his milk again, finishing it, “You want your ass stuffed fulla Apache cock, is that about it?”
Fucking mind-reader.
Landa sits back, cool and calm, “I won’t deny that.”
There’s a flash of something in Aldo’s eyes-intrigue, maybe-but it dies too soon to tell. Clearly the Captain has ideas-two full rank promotions and it irritates him so much that he was rewarded for Landa’s own sacrifice-and they clearly work out in Landa’s favour. Landa burns with lust and hope and maybe a little anger, but eats his breakfast in silence. Everything tastes like a foggy memory. The milk has gone warm by the time Landa finishes it, and Aldo is still looking him over with some sort of smug satisfaction. The glass drops-empty-to the table and Landa confidently meets Aldo’s gaze.
They stare, daring the other to be weak enough to make the inevitable first move.
This might be obvious, but PORN NEXT CHAPTER. Hang in there, guys.