"Donny, go 'n give the Patriot something to fuckin' drink."
They had taken to calling Landa "the Patriot" in a facetious manner, as they had a habit of bestowing their own names among their enemies. "Jew Hunter" didn't seem fitting since they had tied him up in the basement and had him agree to complete national treachery. The one downside, if it could be called that, to keeping headquarters in a tavern (especially an abandoned one such as this) was that there was nothing clean to drink, no water or fresh beer. Nothing, that is, except for innumerable caskets of spirits. So the boys had taken up the Vodka and Schnapps. They were howling around a game of poker.
Donny kicked open the cellar door and noisily walked down, the screams of his comrades spilling in behind him. He was sans bat but loud enough to wake Landa from a concussion-induced stupor. The Colonel groaned.
"Are ya fuckin' thirsty, jackass?" Donny had a tin canteen and an uncorked bottle of vodka, half-drunk, he was sipping between the two, as if it mattered. He plunked down in front of Landa, wiped his mouth sleazily.
"Sergeant Donowitz, I do not drink alcohol." Landa stated.
Donny licked his lips. "You don't fuckin' drink, you die. You die, you ain't no good to us. We ain't go no water, Patsie. We got booze."
Landa shook his head. So Donowitz stood up, grabbed him by his handsome german hair, and shoved the canteen against his lips. Landa spluttered, then swallowed: Donny was forcing it down his throat faster than he could drink. The vodka dripped down his neck, onto his uniform. Donny laughed, threw the empty containter across the cellar (it echoed, humorously).
Donny wiped Landa's mouth with his dirty hand, mashing his lips. Landa shrunk back, rebelling against the burn of liquor in his throat. Donny laughed, sat on his haunches.
"I gotta question for you…" Donny reeled, gulping at another tankard. Landa realized with a bit of satisfaction that Donowitz must have been drunk long before his arrival in the cellar. His eyes had the telltale glimmering stupidity in them, foretelling recklessness and animal behavior.
Landa felt superior. He cooed. "Yes, Donowitz?"
"That story you was tellin' us. Some sentimental shit about Berlin." Donny rubbed his eyes, grinned. "That shit…. You were tellin' the truth huh?"
Landa put his teeth together, feeling a pang in his side. He nodded. "I was performing the rare babble. But yes."
"You know," Donny laughed then, swallowing a mouthful of vodka. He glared at Landa. "Aldo 'n Smitty, they fuckin' have mercy for you. Me? No. I ain't got a drop to give. If it were up to me, I woulda killed you hours ago."
Landa tasted his lips, body twitching against his bonds. Exhausted and bleeding, with a heaviness in his limbs, the Colonel smiled, "If it were up to you, Donny, you would have bashed my brains in good and proper. I am well aware of your style."
Donny glowered. "You sound smug, nazi. Wanna tell me why?"
Landa lifted his brows at the young, dark-haired male. "Forgive me, mister Donowitz, if I am not mistaken you were just nursing me with spirits as if I were a beloved jew babe." He gave a slender shrug in his bonds. "I could have only assumed that you yourself have come to accept the situation. That I am here, your, for lack of a better word, slave. You've won. What is there to be bitter about?"
Donny shot up. The movement jerked Landa in his seat. "You wanna fuckin' try me, Lahhn-dah? C'mon. I'll fight you, you smug bastard. I'll fuckin' cut your bonds. Man to man, let's do it."
He produced a blade and he was—of course. He was cutting Landa free. This was a gloriously serendipitous opportunity for the Colonel. Landa eyed the narrow window in the cellar. An escape route. How clever of him. The plan appeared in his mind, agile even if under the handicap of liquor. A true genius move. He congratulated himself.
When Donny had freed his arms and legs, the Austrian-German rubbed at his gloved wrists and flashed an appreciative, and sardonic, smirk at the Bear Jew. He was ready for the triumphant duck and sprint towards the window, the throwing of barrels in the way of the clumsy and booze-addled Donowitz, the breaking of window glass, the splash of cold evening air on the face. He would escape like rats escape. It seemed appropriate.
As he shot forward Donny's body collided with his full force. He felt the complete heat and animal power of it as he was slammed against the cold stone of the basement wall. And then came, quite unexpectedly, the hot clash of Donny's groin against him, and animal-man hands moving under his coat, squeezing at his flesh beneath his clothes.
He fought for breath, his head spun and the other man's warm bare hands pushed into his rigid cock. He was reminded of Berlin. His mind unraveled. The taste of vodka lingered on his tongue. Donny's hand covered his eyes, his mouth. He could smell dirt and sweat on Donny's hands.
"What did you do to him?" Donny growled, then put his fingers on Landa's neck, pushing him further into the wall.
The Colonel kicked at air, grabbed at the man's wrists, swallowing thickly. "What?! You're mad."
Donny grinned, pushing his hips forcefully into the Colonel's thigh. Landa felt the heat burning there. His own cock jumped. His face flushed with heat. This was stupid. He should have been gone by now. Donny said: "Tell me you fuckin' nazi slut."
When Donny started undoing Colonel Landa's belt, he yelled, fought. But he was disoriented and inept. The man spun him around, pushed his face into the stone. He felt his hands being cuffed. Donny had handcuffs. Surprise.
"Stop," Landa gasped. Not this way, this was not the plan.
Donny got a hold of the belt buckle, yanked the trousers down enough to get a peek at the pale, too-soft flesh of Landa's lower back. Then he stood back for just a moment, admiring it, like it was some perverse painting.
"What did you do to him, Lahhndahh?" Donny sing-songed.
"Nothing…" Landa whispered. Then Donny grabbed him by the hair, slammed his forehead into the rock. Landa saw stars. He made helpless sounds when Donny put his hands under his shirt, pinched at his flesh, wrapped a hand around his dick which was impossibly, perversely throbbing, pushed him against the wall like a whore.
"I…" Landa whimpered.
Donny put his fingers in Landa's mouth. Landa felt them gagging him. He felt Donny's hard-on pressing against his naked back.
"I killed him."
