When We Get Back

Last in my Inglourious Basterds "series" of ficlets, beginning with "Cocky", "Bedtime Story", "Dono-wich", and "One Last Demand."

Enjoy!

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When We Get Back

"Sir?"

Aldo heard Utivich's voice behind him as he marched Landa to the truck after carving his masterpiece on the Nazi bastard. He turned back, keeping a firm hand on Landa's cuffs - not that the damn kraut would be going anywhere anytime soon, half dazed with pain. "Yeah?"

The boy stood several paces behind him, looking suddenly a little lost. "What'll happen when we get there?"

Aldo regarded him for a moment, then loaded Landa up into the back of the truck, locking it up before returning to the boy. They'd been in France for a while, and they sure as hell hadn't been civilized. Still, Smithson Utivich was the last one he would have expected to get anxious about going back. He shrugged. "Well, I imagine I'll get chewed out a bit for that dead Nazi. Then we'll prob'ly get debriefed a lot on Operation Kino. Mostly me. Eventually we'll get back home."

"Oh."

He looked so despondent that Aldo began to worry a little. He patted his shoulder. "What, that scared of a hot bath?"

That brought a hint of a smile. "A hot bath will be really great."

"Good." Aldo nodded, then turned back to the truck. "Lets get on the road then."

"Sir?" Smitty's call pulled him back again, and the boy worried at his bottom lip with his teeth. "Um. I know I don't have much right to ask any favors, but... do you think I could stay with you for a while? Just, you know... until they're done with us, I guess."

"Yeah. Sure. You all right, Utivich?"

The boy was silent for a moment. "I guess, I just... things weren't so great back home, you know. Before I signed up. Tried so hard to hide what I am from my parents... it gets rough."

"What you are...?"

Blue eyes flicked to his with a little rueful smile. "Queer, sir."

"Mm." Aldo took this in without comment. There were men who fucked men, and then there was -queer-, and truth be told if any of his boys were gonna be the second type, he would have expected it the most from Smitty. "So set up a place on your own."

He shook his head. "It isn't that easy. Not when you're Jewish. And if Landa gets us all that recognition he talked about, well... I'm the new stud horse of the synagogue, whether I like it or not." A soft laugh, but there was no mirth in it.

Aldo watched him for a moment. "Didn't think ya'd get back, did ya?"

"Didn't plan on it. Even if we made it out alive, we were gonna..." He stopped, and flushed deeply.

Aldo quirked a brow. "You and Donowitz?"

"He said he'd help me get set up somewhere. Be someone new. Said we could stay together."

The boy looked dangerously close to tears, and Aldo pulled him into a slightly awkward, one armed embrace, patting his back lightly. Then, as his shoulders started to shake, he drew him in closer, urging Smitty's face to nestle against the shoulder of his white smoking jacket, moving from patting his back to stroking his hair slowly. He looked up at the tree branches against the sky and gave a soft sigh. "Hell of a charge ya left me with, Donny," he muttered, mostly to himself, and shook his head.

"What?"

He resisted the urge to give an affectionate chuckle at the face that looked up from his shoulder, nose pink and eyes wide and wet with tears. "It's okay, son. Let it out if you need to."

Smitty sniffled, then shook his head, wordlessly accepting the stiffly starched handkerchief that Aldo pulled out of the pocket of that damn tux jacket and handed to him, keeping a hand on his back while he wiped his face and blew his nose. "You'll be all right."

He didn't reply, staring down blankly at the handkerchief before stuffing it in a pocket - a good thing, because Aldo sure as hell didn't want it back. "Shouldn't have done that for me, sir."

He stared at the boy for a moment. "I ain't gonna use that froofroo thing. Keep it."

"No, I mean... back in Paris... with Landa...."

Oh. "Don't think on it, son. Weren't as bad as you'd think."

Smitty shook his head. "Still shouldn't have done that for me, Sir. Wasn't worth it."

"Hey now." Aldo caught his chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. "I don't ever wanna hear you sayin that again, you hear? You are."

"You mean that?" Smitty looked dangerously close to tears again.

"Course I do." He patted the boy on the shoulder, then inclined his head toward the truck. "Should be gettin' on the road."

"Sir?"

He glanced down to find Smitty's hand resting lightly on the lapel of his white jacket, eyes wide. "Yeah, Utivich?"

"I - I could make it up to you, sir."

Smitty Utivich was not what Aldo would generally consider his type. He liked his women womanly and his men manly, and well, Smitty was a bit too prissy to fit into either catagory. But something in the way he spoke, the earnest, desperate look in his eye made something inside him suddenly pay attention. Still, he wasn't about to take straight out advantage of the boy's good will.

Aldo glanced at the truck, then back at Smitty, putting an arm around his shoulders and starting into the woods, under the canopy and away from the body of the dead radio operator, and well out of earshot of the truck. "Listen. That big old scary Jew hunter back there? He's nothin' but a little old poof. So I let 'em suck my dick, fucked him six ways to Sunday, and we called it a day. I reckon he just wanted to see what old Aldo was made of."

"That's understandable, sir."

He gave a little bemused smile. "Mind you don't tell nobody now, or he'll drag the good Donowitz name through the mud."

"Of course not, sir."

"Likely I shouldn't of told ya, but I didn't wantcha to worry none."

Smitty nodded, and glanced back toward the truck. Then Aldo felt that hand on his lapel again. "I could still make it up to you, sir...."

Aldo caught his chin in his hands again, running this thumb across full lips that parted slightly under the touch. "Don't want you to feel like you owe me somethin, Smitty."

The boy was faintly trembling under his touch, and wet his lips. That look was back in his eyes - earnest and desperate and a little bit lost, and Aldo couldn't help but feel for him. "But what if I want to owe you something?" He moved suddenly, slipping his arms up around Aldo's neck and pressing against him, pressing his lips just under Aldo's ear. "Please, sir. I know I shouldn't ask for this. But I... I need to -feel- something...."

"Shhh...." He let out a soft sigh, holding the boy to him, smoothing his hands down to cup his firm ass. The last of his brave boys sighed under his touch, arching closer, almost molding his trembling form against Aldo. He let his face nuzzle against the boy's hair. "You know what Donowitz told me about you?" He murmured, breath hot on his skin.

"Sir?"

"Said you need a good fuckin' every so often to keep your spirits up."

Smitty drew a sharp gasp and actually moaned, hips rocking against him just a little. He could feel the hard length of the boy's erection through his pants, and damn if that wasn't a hell of a turn on. Aldo let his lips press against the boys earlobe, sucking it into his mouth and nipping lightly at the tender skin. "I take it he was right?"

"Yes," Smitty all but whimpered, fingers clenching in the back of his jacket. "God, sir... please."

"Shh..." He started to drop slow kisses along his jaw, stroking a hand up and down his spine. "No need to be beggin' for it. I'll take care of you."

"Thank you," Smitty whispered, and drew back to catch Aldo's mouth with his own with a soft whimper, kisses trembling and yearning. He cupped the back of the boy's head, letting his tongue swipe against lips that parted to him without hesitation, tasting him, more than a little pleased with the voracity with which the boy responded. There was one thing he quickly came to realize about Smitty - just like on the battlefield, when push came to shove, the boy didn't hold anything back, and that was admirable. He found himself quickly lost in the simple pleasure of kissing him, stroking hands over his back and hips, slipping one up the back of his shirt to stroke a body slender but wiry, feeling the boy shudder and arch under him in at the touch. Wouldn't hurt to spend a bit of time here, and maybe they both needed it, just a bit.

He broke the kiss, untangling himself from the boy, smiling at wide blue eyes that looked up at him, full of uncertainty. "Stay right here, 'kay? I'll be right back."

Smitty nodded silently, and Aldo patted his arm lightly before turning back to the truck. He opened the back and hopped in, intending just to grab one of the heavy wool blankets he'd seen stored back there, but the sight of their prisoner made something else come to mind. He threw a blanket over his shoulder and gave the former Nazi a grin. "Hey. Forgot somethin." He ignored the quiet look of smouldering hatred in the German's eyes, patting him down and going through the pockets of his coat until he found what he was looking for. "I'm confiscatin' this." He told the man with a smirk, holding up the small tub of petroleum jelly. "Classified dangerous. Could be used to escape."

Landa muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "American swine hunt." Aldo patted his cheek placatingly and left, resisting the urge to whistle cheerfully.

Smitty was still waiting where he left him, watching Aldo a little anxiously. He gave the boy a smile, throwing the blanket down in a spot that looked relatively free of rocks and twigs, then stretched out on it, patting the blanket beside him. "Come on. Lets celebrate endin' the war."

When the boy settled beside him, he all but pounced, mouth to his neck, sucking and nipping at his skin as he pushed him back under him. Smitty offered no resistance, arching up under him as Aldo made short work of the buttons of his jacket, stripping him of it and pulling the boy's undershirt off along with his tags. He let his hands roam hungrily over the bare skin revealed and noted with a wry smile the kiss bruises that smattered his shoulders and torso. He resolved to leave a few of his own and nipped hard at his collarbone, something the boy seemed to like very much, hips bucking up against him almost desperately, hands clenching at his shoulders. "God, sir, more!"

"You like it a bit rough, boy?" he hissed, biting down at the crook of his neck, and was rewarded with a shivering cry, with hands tangled in his hair.

"Yes sir..."

"Just Aldo, Smitty." He caught the boy's wrists with one hand and pinned them over his head, then sealed his mouth over the spot he'd just bitten, sucking and laving it with his tongue to sooth, fingers finding one of his small nipples and pinching it none too gently.

"Fuck, Aldo - Please...."

"That's better," he murmured, slipping a hand down to cup his erection, palming him slowly through his trousers, giving a little appreciative noise at the way it made him writhe and moan. He kissed down the boy's pale skin, sealing his mouth over a spot on his chest and pulling at it hard enough to mark, until Smitty started to whimper, they pulled back, kissing and licking the skin gently as he tugged the boy's belt and trousers undone, getting him in hand and stroking him slowly. "You sure about this, son?"

Smitty was already wriggling out of his pants, kicking them off with his shoes, and caught Aldo's mouth wordlessly in reply, sucking and nipping at his lips almost desperately. Aldo gave a soft chuckle against his mouth, biting at the boy's full lower lip just to make him squirm, and urged his thighs apart, stroking over his sack and down between his thighs. Then he half sat, releasing his wrists long enough to dig out the petroleum jelly from his jacket pocket, getting an ample amount on two fingers.

"... you carry that stuff around with you, sir?" Smitty blinked up at him, and he grinned.

"Nah. Nicked it off the Nazi." He chuckled, pinning the boy again and dropping his lips to the boy's chest, sucking and teasing one pert nipple with his lips and teeth as he pressed two fingers into him, stretching him, fucking him slowly with them. It was pretty damn hot how desperate he was for it, gasping and arching up against Aldo's fingers, begging for more. When he eased a third finger into him, it made the boy damn near whine, tugging at the restraint on his wrists.

"God, sir, come on, please... please fuck me - !" He was entirely unrestrained, arching, whimpering, and maybe this was what Donny had seen in him, the unbridled passion and need. He fumbled one handed with the closure on his own pants, pushing the fabric out of the way and hurriedly slicking more grease over his throbbing cock before moving between his legs. Releasing Smitty's wrists, he pulled his hips to him and gave the boy exactly what he wanted, rocking hard and deep into him as pale thighs wrapped up around his waist.

"Oh god - !" Smitty's hands clenched in his hair, at his back, clawing for purchase at the smooth white linen. The boy was a veritable bundle of livewires, arching and writhing under him as he fucked him, gasping and half sobbing for more against Aldo's mouth. He let him - let him tear trembling kisses from his mouth, let his fingers dig into his back through the coat, clinging tight to Aldo like he was the only thing left between him and the end of the world. Maybe it was true.

Him, eight brave boys and one damn crazy German, and they were all that was left, just the two of them, rutting hard and fast and in the middle of the forest less than 50 feet away from a dead Nazi. He understood Smitty's desperate request now, and let himself go to it, pushing away thoughts of the war, all he'd done and all he'd lost and just focusing on the boy under him, care and protectiveness mixing with the hard shocks of pleasure and sensation. He dropped his face to the Smitty's neck, sucking and biting desperately at the skin, and it didn't matter that the damn boy was still calling him sir, just that he was crying out with pleasure, bucking up against him, hot and tight around Aldo's cock.

With the pace and the need it didn't take long, and he tried to hold back, freeing a hand to curl around Smitty's erection, stroking him firm and fast as he drove harder into him. The boy bucked tense against him, giving a desperate, strangled cry as he clenched around him, pulsing in his hand and climaxing hard, shuddering helplessly under him. A few more thrusts was all it took Aldo to follow, groaning against his skin as he came hard, letting pleasure and sensation overwhelm him, shuddering through every nerve in his body.

There were tears in Smitty's eyes when he lifted his head, but he didn't remark on them, just kissing him lightly and keeping the boy close, letting him come down. "Thank you, sir," he breathed softly, and Aldo pressed a kiss beneath his ear.

"Anytime, Smitty."

"Literally, sir?"

"Yeah. Long as you stop callin' me Sir when I'm fuckin' you."

He laughed, and nodded. "Sorry, I'll try." He gave a soft sigh as Aldo eased away, stretching out on the blankets, still looking a little dazed. "The guys would be jealous."

Aldo straightened his clothes, wiping his hand on the grass, and glanced over at him. "Of this?"

"Of getting with you," he replied with a soft chuckle.

"Stop fuckin' around."

Smitty shook his head. "Most of us wanted you, sir," he murmured, lowering his eyes, and Aldo watched a blush creep across pale cheeks. "Donny was the only one ballsy enough to go after you, though. I mean, other than Stiglitz, but he lost the fight."

"Hm." Aldo ran a hand through his hair. "Always wondered what that was about. Figured they were just establishin' the peckin' order."

"They were," Smitty replied, with a soft chuckle.

"Well... damn." He grabbed Smitty's undershirt from where he'd thrown it as the boy wriggled back into his pants, but as he went to hand it to him, something caught his eye, and he paused, lifting it for a closer look.

"Son," he said softly, all mirth gone from his voice, "How long have you been wearin' Donowitz's tags?"

He heard a soft intake of breath, and looked up to find the boy white as a sheet. "That's not possible, Donny was wearing them...."

He nodded. "Told them both to make sure they had them under those monkey suits. Want them flown home for a proper burial if there's anything left of that cinema. So why the hell're his tags here?"

Smitty reached over to take them from him slowly, dropping the undershirt and turning the tags over and over in his hands. "He came to see me before the premier. I thought he... I didn't even check, I just... put on the ones he left behind...." He looked up at Aldo, eyes dangerously bright. "What do we do, sir?"

Aldo leaned back on his arms and regarded him silently for a moment. "Well, Staff Sargent Donowitz, I reckon we write Mr. and Mrs. Utivich a nice letter telling them how bravely their son Smithson died to end the war."

Smitty bit his lip and shook his head. "Pretend to be Donny?"

"When they pull that body out, they're gonna figure it's you. Reckon Donny planned it that way, son."

He gulped hard, fingers clenching tight around the metal tags. "Sir, I can't - "

"Can't you? It's what you wanted, right? A fresh start? Seems to me like that's what you've got here. I wouldn't waste it. Now, you can come home with me if you want. I'll help you get on your feet."

The boy all but flung his arms around Aldo's waist, trembling, and he held him close, patting his back lightly. "We need to get goin', son. You have an hour or two to make a decision."

"It's not fair," he heard Smitty whimper, and he squeezed the boy's shaking shoulders gently.

"It usually ain't. All we can do it pick up what's left and make the best of it. Try not to forget the ones that are gone. Right?"

He nodded, fishing the handkerchief out of his pocket and blowing his nose again, dressing silently and following Aldo back to the truck, dogtags clinking quietly against the buttons of his coat as he walked. Aldo chucked the blanket into the back and gave Landa a cheerful wave, then started up the truck and heading on toward their destination.

Smitty was silent for a time, watching the trees pass. "It's kind of funny," he said softly, and Aldo glanced over at him.

"Funny?"

"Yeah." Aldo could see the hint of a smile in Smitty's reflection in the glass. "He told me to take care of you, you know. But it looks like it's ended up being the other way around."

Aldo felt a soft surge of loss, and swallowed it down, reaching over to pat him on the shoulder. "You're doin' just fine, son."

Smitty looked back at him, a determined set in his jaw. "Sir? I'll do it."

He gave a little nod in agreement. "Sure you're up to bein' the Bear Jew, son?"

Smitty chuckled softly. "Well, I don't have my bat anymore, but... I'll do my best."

~~~fin~~~