![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
linndechirTitle: Five Senses - Part three: Smell
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
linndechir
Fandom: Inglourious Basterds
Pairing: Hellstrom/Landa
Rating: PG-13
Warning: top!Hellstrom, sub!Landa, leather kink, gun porn
Words: 760
Links to part one, part two, part four, part five.
3) SMELL
Hans Landa was feeling distracted.
He wasn’t distracted by their beautiful surroundings, by the green meadows of France, by the perfect spring weather - it was still cold, but sunny, and the air was already filled with springtime scents, announcing the warmth of summer. Nor did he pay much attention to the noise in the barn behind them, where a handful of SS-men were rounding up the small resistance group they had finally discovered after a weeklong search.
His eyes were fixed on the silhouette of a man running away from them, one of the resistance fighters, who had escaped the barn. From the corner of his eyes he could see the tall, dark figure of Dieter Hellstrom, standing next to him and slowly drawing his gun.
The major walked around Landa, probably to get a better shot at the man. The spring breeze suddenly carried his scent to Landa, and the arousal he had been fighting down ever since Hellstrom had shown up in a new leather trench coat this morning hit him with full force when all other smells were wiped out by the scent of new leather.
It covered even the perpetual smell of smoke that clung to every piece of clothing Hellstrom wore for more than an hour. Landa would never have thought that the smell of leather could affect him so much - he smelt it on his own coat every day. But now the familiar smell was tied to the picture of Hellstrom wearing such a coat, which made his slender figure more imposing, matching the grim expression on the otherwise boyish face.
The scent also evoked the taste of leather on his tongue. Landa wanted to lean forward and lick the coat, working his way downwards from the collar, go to his knees, and, while he was at it, bestow the same reverent kisses on Hellstrom’s boots.
The fantasy was disrupted by a loud bang, which made his ears ring painfully. He saw the running man drop to the ground, killed by a precise shot in the head. Landa turned his head to look at Hellstrom, at his fingers, covered in sleek black leather, curling around the gun with the same sensuality he touched his cigarettes with.
The smell of cordite filled the air, so strong at first that it covered the leather. It evoked countless memories to a man who had fought in World War I, who prided himself on being a rather good shot himself, who had shot more than a few men since he had joined the SS.
The scents mingled soon, cordite and leather forming an intoxicating mixture that made all his memories fade away, replaced by present fantasies. Hellstrom turned to look at him, a smug smile on his face. Satisfaction with a job well done, Landa thought. Hoped.
The gun disappeared somewhere under the leather coat, and Landa thought that Hellstrom rather unnecessarily straightened his uniform with his gloved fingers. As if he knew that Landa desperately wanted to kiss them, to feel them in his hair while burying his face against the endless leather of the coat.
Landa had seen Hellstrom kill men before, and it had never seemed to give him the intense amusement and pleasure he showed now. The major usually was a cold professional, and right now he was definitely having too much fun.
Hellstrom slowly lifted a hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture that Landa had never seen him make before, accompanied by a sly smile.
A shout came from the barn behind them, but Landa’s ears were still ringing, and he didn’t quite hear what the sergeant said. Hellstrom seemed to have less trouble, for he just nodded at Landa before he turned and walked back to the barn, coat swaying behind him in the breeze.
Landa looked back at the corpse, and he noticed only now that Hellstrom could have shot the man just as well from where he had been standing before; probably it would even have been easier. He felt himself grow pale when he realised that there was only one possible reason for Hellstrom to go to Landa’s other side - he had noticed the nervous quivering of Landa’s nostrils, his deep breaths, the arousal Landa had thought well hidden.
He had tried to convince himself that it was impossible, but it seemed more and more likely that Hellstrom knew exactly what Landa wanted. And if the Gestapo officer did know, then Landa, higher-ranking or not, was in deep trouble.
ON TO PART FOUR
Author:
linndechir Fandom: Inglourious Basterds
Pairing: Hellstrom/Landa
Rating: PG-13
Warning: top!Hellstrom, sub!Landa, leather kink, gun porn
Words: 760
Links to part one, part two, part four, part five.
3) SMELL
Hans Landa was feeling distracted.
He wasn’t distracted by their beautiful surroundings, by the green meadows of France, by the perfect spring weather - it was still cold, but sunny, and the air was already filled with springtime scents, announcing the warmth of summer. Nor did he pay much attention to the noise in the barn behind them, where a handful of SS-men were rounding up the small resistance group they had finally discovered after a weeklong search.
His eyes were fixed on the silhouette of a man running away from them, one of the resistance fighters, who had escaped the barn. From the corner of his eyes he could see the tall, dark figure of Dieter Hellstrom, standing next to him and slowly drawing his gun.
The major walked around Landa, probably to get a better shot at the man. The spring breeze suddenly carried his scent to Landa, and the arousal he had been fighting down ever since Hellstrom had shown up in a new leather trench coat this morning hit him with full force when all other smells were wiped out by the scent of new leather.
It covered even the perpetual smell of smoke that clung to every piece of clothing Hellstrom wore for more than an hour. Landa would never have thought that the smell of leather could affect him so much - he smelt it on his own coat every day. But now the familiar smell was tied to the picture of Hellstrom wearing such a coat, which made his slender figure more imposing, matching the grim expression on the otherwise boyish face.
The scent also evoked the taste of leather on his tongue. Landa wanted to lean forward and lick the coat, working his way downwards from the collar, go to his knees, and, while he was at it, bestow the same reverent kisses on Hellstrom’s boots.
The fantasy was disrupted by a loud bang, which made his ears ring painfully. He saw the running man drop to the ground, killed by a precise shot in the head. Landa turned his head to look at Hellstrom, at his fingers, covered in sleek black leather, curling around the gun with the same sensuality he touched his cigarettes with.
The smell of cordite filled the air, so strong at first that it covered the leather. It evoked countless memories to a man who had fought in World War I, who prided himself on being a rather good shot himself, who had shot more than a few men since he had joined the SS.
The scents mingled soon, cordite and leather forming an intoxicating mixture that made all his memories fade away, replaced by present fantasies. Hellstrom turned to look at him, a smug smile on his face. Satisfaction with a job well done, Landa thought. Hoped.
The gun disappeared somewhere under the leather coat, and Landa thought that Hellstrom rather unnecessarily straightened his uniform with his gloved fingers. As if he knew that Landa desperately wanted to kiss them, to feel them in his hair while burying his face against the endless leather of the coat.
Landa had seen Hellstrom kill men before, and it had never seemed to give him the intense amusement and pleasure he showed now. The major usually was a cold professional, and right now he was definitely having too much fun.
Hellstrom slowly lifted a hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture that Landa had never seen him make before, accompanied by a sly smile.
A shout came from the barn behind them, but Landa’s ears were still ringing, and he didn’t quite hear what the sergeant said. Hellstrom seemed to have less trouble, for he just nodded at Landa before he turned and walked back to the barn, coat swaying behind him in the breeze.
Landa looked back at the corpse, and he noticed only now that Hellstrom could have shot the man just as well from where he had been standing before; probably it would even have been easier. He felt himself grow pale when he realised that there was only one possible reason for Hellstrom to go to Landa’s other side - he had noticed the nervous quivering of Landa’s nostrils, his deep breaths, the arousal Landa had thought well hidden.
He had tried to convince himself that it was impossible, but it seemed more and more likely that Hellstrom knew exactly what Landa wanted. And if the Gestapo officer did know, then Landa, higher-ranking or not, was in deep trouble.
ON TO PART FOUR
