Part 2 of 4 of my Landa/Hellstrom slash. Thankyou to my kind friends on other sites who have complimented this story so far, once again please take the time to review as it would be hugely appreciated.
Warning! The MA rating of this story begins to kick in here so please be aware of some sexual content.
All characters are the creation of Quentin Tarantino and this story is simply designed to entertain.
My thanks again to DeborahKLA for her beta
Hellstrom arrived early for the film screening; he had never arrived late anywhere in his entire life. Emmanuelle Mimieux let him into the foyer with an ill-disguised scowl, which he returned with added menace. He found her just as irritating as Frederick Zoller, and the way in which she had attracted Landa's attentions certainly did nothing to endear her further. Whilst waiting for the other guests, Hellstrom took the opportunity to peruse the cinema lobby. He could not deny it was an attractive place and considerably easier to handle in terms of security when compared to the larger and more structurally complex Ritz. He was careful not to reveal his secret admiration in his facial expressions, adamant that Mlle. Mimieux not be aware of how impressed he was with her venue.
The other screening guests arrived shortly thereafter. Hellstrom greeted them politely and efficiently, although he was unable to relax in his keenness to see Landa again. He had not stopped thinking about the dashing Standartenführer since their brief conversation that afternoon, the firm grip of his hand on Hellstrom's still lingering on his skin. It was as he turned away from the entrance to the cinema to speak to Goebbels that an eloquent voice from behind alerted him that Landa had finally arrived.
"I apologise for not being here earlier," Landa announced. "I sincerely hope I have kept no one waiting."
Hellstrom turned to face the Standartenführer and let out a tiny involuntarily gasp which he successfully disguised as a cough. Landa was attired in his day uniform, the stiff material skimming his taut body in a perfect fit. His boots shone from a fresh coat of polish and he wore thick black leather gloves. As he moved forward, the long leather coat, which ran the length of his body, swished silently, the hem gently brushing against the sides of his boots. It was all Hellstrom could do to silently suppress the pounding desire that flooded his veins. This man was so impossibly handsome, so physically desirable; he made Hellstrom's legs weak with pleasure and his face burn with lust.
He quickly switched his openly admiring gaze to one of passive neutrality as Landa's eyes fell on him, although he sensed from the sly grin spreading over the Standartenführer's face that he had reacted a second too late. Landa said nothing to him but instead focussed his attention on Goebbels, chatting away in a professional manner, discussing the arrangements for the evening. Hellstrom prayed that Landa's suggestion that he should assist him had not simply been part of polite conversation. More than anything else he wanted the chance to work alongside this man he craved so deeply.
It seemed that luck was on Hellstrom's side that night. Goebbels beckoned him over as the other guests began making their way into the cinema's theatre.
"If it is agreeable with you, Sturmbannführer," Goebbels said, "I think it would be more productive if you assisted Standartenführer Landa with his security checks whilst we watch the film and assess Mademoiselle Mimieux's cinema."
Hellstrom could barely disguise his joy at being allowed to work alone alongside Landa rather than endure another tedious offering of the German film industry. Hellstrom's life had always been so dominated by his professional ambitions that he regarded much of the art world as a complete waste of time, dismissing the cinema as simply a place where idle people frittered away the day. He marched smartly towards Landa, who was waiting for him at the doorway, forcing himself to remain calm and retain a professional facade in the presence of the Standartenführer. Landa was leaning lazily against the doorframe, an excited glint in his eye and one eyebrow raised in questioning anticipation.
"I hope I have not deprived you of an evening of entertainment, Sturmbannführer," Landa said, his voice laced with sarcasm, his face a mask of mock concern.
Hellstrom could not resist returning the question with a tiny smile.
"Nein, Standartenführer," he said. "I feel my time would be better spent assisting you in your security checks."
Landa pulled himself away from the doorframe and nodded his head briskly.
"Then let us begin," he said, pleased to have a willing companion accompany him whilst he worked.
It didn't take Hellstrom long to see why Landa enjoyed having a young, interested person trailing after him as he worked. The Standartenführer was quite clearly a natural show off, carrying out his painstaking examination of the entire cinema building to identify areas of security concern with a flamboyance and edge of theatricality clearly for Hellstrom's benefit. Landa chatted away incessantly as he worked, explaining everything he was doing and justifying the security decisions he was making. Like a doggedly devoted pupil in the presence of his most revered teacher, Hellstrom eagerly absorbed Landa's every word, keen to learn from such a knowledgeable and competent man, but also revelling in the private performance which Landa was clearly putting on especially for him.
The more Hellstrom listened intently, the more pleasure Landa seemed to derive from the running commentary he provided, his ego clearly massaged by the undivided attention he was receiving. As the evening's work wore on, Hellstrom began to sink further into the aura of Landa's presence, his mind wandering to other aspects of the Standartenführer's person that interested him. His eyes were constantly drawn to Landa's hands, which he used extensively as he spoke, expressing and emphasising his points with forceful movements and gestures. He still wore the black leather gloves, which also intrigued Hellstrom. The shiny leather was attractive, but Hellstrom secretly wished he would take off the gloves so he could see the man's hands, which he'd imagined touching his body ever since Landa had begun his lecture.
"You're very quiet, Sturmbannführer," Landa said suddenly.
Hellstrom jolted slightly, taken aback by the question.
"Sorry, Standartenführer," he responded. He hesitated slightly before continuing. "Forgive me, but it is such an honour to see how a man such as yourself works that I didn't want to interrupt."
Hellstrom felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment but was relieved to see that Landa had a soft and slightly amused smile on his face.
"And what exactly is 'a man such as' myself, Dieter?" Landa asked softly.
Hellstrom froze at hearing Landa use his first name. He had no idea how he knew it. His eyes met Landa's and for a moment they simply stared at each other, Hellstrom's infatuated gaze locking with Landa's enquiring one.
"I mean a man of your professional reputation, Standartenführer," Hellstrom finally said. "It isn't often that one has the opportunity to learn from one of the finest officers in his field."
Landa chuckled softly. "Well, you really are flattering me tonight, Dieter," he said, his voice ringing with ill-disguised pleasure. "We must check the exterior walls of the cinema before the film finishes, but I sincerely wish to hear some of your thoughts whilst we do it."
Landa exited the front door of the cinema and Hellstrom followed, nervously wondering how his assessment of the security situation would match up to the fierce intelligence of the Standartenführer. The night was very dark but the air was warm, a slight breeze blowing gently as they walked alongside the walls of the building. Hellstrom struggled to see Landa clearly as they began to move around to the back of the cinema, where the darkness was almost impenetrable. He focused on the hazy silhouette of Landa's hat, which was barely visible in the night, and continued to follow his lead.
When they reached the back of the building, Landa flicked on a small torch and began to move it over the fencing which ran alongside the back of the building. Hellstrom wondered why he had not switched it on before.
"Well, Dieter?" Landa asked, the use of his first name again unnerving Hellstrom, "can you see any vulnerable areas where an intruder could break through?"
Hellstrom followed the line of the torchlight, trying to focus hard on the task in hand.
"Stop!" he said suddenly, spotting a chink of vulnerability in the fence. The hand holding the torch froze and Landa waited patiently for Hellstrom to explain what he had identified.
"That point there, Standartenführer, does it look damaged to you? Like a person could break through it?"
"Where, Dieter?" said Landa, moving the torch around slightly to examine the fence.
"There, Standartenführer," Hellstrom said again, spotting the area he was talking about.
Still Landa failed to see what he saw.
"Come closer Dieter, point so I can see where you mean".
Hellstrom tensed, telling himself that he had not misunderstood the slightly suggestive tone in the Standartenführer's voice. Hellstrom's desire for Landa was by now so painful that he feared his proximity. The powerful aura of Landa's presence was almost too strong to bear. He gingerly took a single step towards the hazy outline of Landa's body, and pointed a shaking hand at the fence. Landa followed his finger but was still not entirely sure.
"Let me see from your line of vision," Landa said, striding forward without warning and standing right next to Hellstrom before gently placing his hand in the small of his back and moving his face close to his in order to share the focus of his eyes.
Hellstrom jolted violently at Landa's touch; he felt as though a bolt of lightning had pulsated through his body. He uttered a gasp as the sudden movement gently brushed his cheek against Landa's. He could feel the rough evening stubble against his skin. They stood in complete silence, Hellstrom hardly daring to breathe as he realised how Landa was likely to interpret his physical reaction to his touch. His face was so close to Landa's that he could feel the warmth of his skin barely inches away from his cheek. His throat seized up even further when Landa let out a slight chuckle and moved his lips to Hellstrom's ear.
"So, the truth at last," Landa whispered breathlessly, his lips brushing against Hellstrom's earlobe, sending a bolt of fire down his neck. "I think perhaps now I know why you were so keen to miss the film."