A/N: Okay, chapter two. Characters are OOC, sorry about that, but as I said before it's hard to get them in character when some of them only have one or two lines in the whole movie. Please enjoy anyway.

Warnings: SLASH! More precisely, Wilhelm Wicki/Omar Ulmer slash. Weird, I know. Super cheesy story ahead!

Special thanks to LolliDictator.

Cpl. Wilhelm Wicki's Notes Part One

Lieutenant Raine handed me a pen and a pad the other day. He said I looked like I had something heavy weighing on my mind. He was right, of course. He suggested that I write down what was on my mind so that I could see all my thoughts on paper and, perhaps, that would help me straighten them out.

At the time I didn't feel like writing anything down. So, instead I pocketed the pen and pad and forgot all about them, until I saw Lieutenant Raine sitting by himself, writing stuff down on a pocket notebook. It was funny, because I never took him for the type to keep a journal. Assuming that it was a journal he was keeping, that is. It could have been a letter he was writing or notes he was taking, but even so, it was odd to see him so absorbed in something other than Nazi killing.

Lately, lots of things have been bothering me, but one thing more than the others. So, in an effort to clear my head and sort through my jumbled thoughts I have decided to keep a journal or notes, if you prefer.

I don't exactly remember when I had first started feeling this way, but it had to be sometime not long after I had joined the Basterds. At first, we all didn't get along too well, but after a bit of Nazi scalping together we started to become friends.

At first, I didn't exactly know every one by name. I knew Lieutenant Raine, of course, but many of the other Basterds remained unknown to me. Especially, one Jewish boy who, at first, was known to me only as the other, short, Jewish boy. Utivich I knew because he always stuck around with Raine. The boy has some kind of hero worship thing going for Raine. Omar, on the other hand, barely spoke to me or stuck around me long enough to start a conversation. That all changed after I saved his head from being blown to pieces by a Nazi sniper.

Later that evening, when we had overtaken the Nazi camp and were riffling through their documents and stuff, Omar approached me to thank me.

"Hey, thanks Wicki," he said. "I didn't even see that sniper behind the tree. You really saved my life."

"No problem," I told him, "we're comrades now."

After that we started talking more and, in time, he started to grow on me. I began to prefer his company over the other Basterds, but it wasn't until I walked in on Utivich and Donowits making out did I realize I had feelings for Omar. Needless to say, after I had caught Utivich and Donny in that particular situation we were all red up to the ears for a couple of days.

A few weeks after that incident, Omar and I were sent into town to pick up supplies. It was supposed to be a simple job, but when is anything every simple?

We were just walking along the dirt path that led back to our temporary camp, when I saw two German soldiers walking our way. Thinking quickly, I tossed the bundle of supplies I had in my hands into some thick brush at the side of the road, before launching myself at Omar and knocked him into the brush with the supplies. I landed with a soft thud on top of him and I heard his breath escape him. Thankfully, the brush was thick enough to hide us and the German soldier's hadn't spotted us. I lifted myself up off of Omar, my arms supporting all my weight as I heard him hold his breath. I watched him shift his gaze from me to some point behind my head, but I dared not move and look for myself, because I already knew what he was staring at.

The next few seconds were the most intense seconds of my life. My own breath caught in my throat and my arms started to cramp painfully as they supported me. And in the next minute I heard the soldier's footsteps walk briskly past us, their idle chit chat continuing vivaciously. Once we could no longer hear their footfalls or voices, we decided that it was safe to leave, but I wasn't ready to go just yet.

"I think it's okay for us to leave now," whispered Omar, staring up at me, waiting for me to move off him so he could get up. But I didn't. Even if my arms were protesting painfully against the strain I was putting on them.

For some reason I couldn't stop staring at his lips, and in the next second I realized that I had actually started kissing him. I don't even remember leaning down and capturing his lips with my own.

For a moment, I could tell that I had caught him off guard as his body stiffened under me. But after a non-responsive second, he returned the kiss with renewed energy. Apparently, I wasn't the only one starved for that kind of attention.

The making-out only lasted a few minutes, to my utter disappointment, and when we pulled away for air he looked completely flustered and embarrassed. I had been wanting to do that for quite awhile, but he looked like the idea of us (making-out) had never crossed his mind before it had happened.

"We should…" he panted, "…get going." And with that I rolled off him and then we both proceeded to make our way back to camp. We never spoke of the incident ever again, nor did we do anything even remotely close to anything like that again.

So now, in what felt like decades later, we had finally succeeded in killing Hitler and have, somehow, ended up being crammed into the back of some French farmer's old truck, driving to who knows where, in the middle of the night.

In the bed of the truck, I was sitting on the corner edge of the back-end with Stiglitz's shoulder cutting painfully into my back. I wished that here was enough room so that I could, at least, sit properly. And with every bump we met in the road came the threat of me falling completely out of the truck.

Looking around, I spotted Omar, crushed into the corner. His knees were drawn into his chest and his eyes were wide, like at any moment he expected us to get ambushed and killed. At that thought I consciously checked for my pistol. Yep, still there.

Glancing over to the other side, I saw Landa, who looked even more petrified than Omar and with good reason too. His eyes were as equally large as Omar's, his hair was disheveled, and the Swastika carved into his forehead was crusted with dried blood.

Feeling a headache coming on, I rubbed my left eye with the palm of my hand and tried to lean back a bit to get comfortable. But it was a futile attempt as we hit a ditch in the road and it sent my shoulder blade crashing against the side rail of the truck.

I cursed under my breath and had to re-adjust myself into a least-likely-to-break-a-bone position. I as shifted, uncomfortable, I noticed that Hugo seemed to be a little more agitated than usual. Sure, maybe it was because of our unfavorable riding conditions, because everyone seemed a little on edge about that, but Hugo was always a strong, stoic guy who could endure pain with the best of them. So, I doubted our riding condition was the whole reason for his death glare at everyone.

About an hour later we arrived at the farmer's quaint farm, as Lieutenant Raine had put it. I watched as the farmer scuttled off to talk to his wife and when he returned we all followed him into his barn. After Raine had thanked the farmer for his hospitality, his wife came in carrying a pile of blankets and behind her followed the teenage daughter of the farmer's Jewish friend. I nodded politely when she handed me a blanket, and listen intently to what Mrs. Grégoire was saying. I was quite relieved that she spoke English much better than her husband, because he was becoming an ear sore.

After Mr. and Mrs. Grégoire had left, Danny made the comment of someone keeping watch to make sure that no one had followed us. Lieutenant Raine took the first watch, and then Omar volunteered for the second shift, so I decided to take the third shift, but with different intentions than just keeping watch.

I watched as everyone got settled in to get some sleep. Donny was the first one out, sleeping where he sat. Omar sat down and propped himself up against a barn wall, with the blanket wrapped around him and fell asleep instantly.

Trying to decide where to sleep, I paced around a bit before taking off my jacket and rolling it up into a ball. I decided to just sleep where I stood, so I laid down on the floor and used my balled up jacket as a pillow as I covered myself with Mrs. Grégoire's scratchy blanket.

Soon, I drifted off to sleep. I planned on getting a little sleep before Omar's shift came up and I had to get up and have a little chat with him. There were a few things I wanted to ask him that needed to be asked in private.

An hour later I was awoken by the sound of soft boots against creaking wood. I split my eyes open just a hair to see Raine drag his captive over to a pile of feed and sit him down on it. Then Raine woke Omar and had a short exchange with him before Omar got up and headed for the barn door. Raine sat down against a wall and went to sleep.

I lay there for a few minutes longer, pretending to sleep, but I couldn't go back to sleep even if I wanted to. My nerves were keeping me wide awake. My mind was reeling with the images of that evening when Omar and I kissed.

When I was sure that Lieutenant Raine and his prisoner were asleep, I swiftly and silently exited the barn in search of Omar. I had seen him walk out of the barn about twenty minutes earlier and I could no longer hear his footsteps, which told me that he probably wasn't coming back inside.

When I stepped out into the night air, I felt like I was inhaling ice water. I shivered and pulled my jacket tighter around myself. Not that it helped much. I walked quickly around the barn, my boots making crunching noises against the grass and gravel with every step I took. And as I had expected, when I turned the corner there was Omar, hand on his gun and ready to fight. But once he saw that it was me his tense shoulders relaxed and his hand fell away from his pistol.

"Not very stealthy. I could hear you coming from a mile away," whisper Omar as he turned away from me to watch the road instead.

"Wasn't trying to be stealthy," I replied, coming to stand next to him and also stare at the miles of empty, farm road ahead of us.

"So what do you need? It's not your shift yet."

"I know, but I couldn't sleep. Thought I'd keep you company." He saw through my lie as easily as if it had been made out of glass. He shifted, uncomfortably, and moved ever so slightly away from me.

"So…" he started, drawling out the word in what I presumed to be an attempt to figure out how to word his next question. "What are you going to do when all this is over? Can you go home? What will you do if you can't?"

"I don't know," I answered, honestly. I guess, I figured that if I couldn't go home (what home there was left, that is) that I'd move to America. I could read and speak perfect English. If I moved there I could simply vanish amongst the other millions of people.

"Well, that's stupid." He finally turned to look at me, and shocked by his blunt remark, I turned to look at him. His nose, tips of his ears, and the skin covering his high cheek bones were all tainted a dark pink color from where the cold night air bit at them. In the pale moonlight his eyes looked dark and mysterious, which had me wondering just what those same eyes would like clouded with lust.

We stared, silently, at each other for a moment, him with a large smirk on his face and me with a confused look on mine, our breaths coming out in small, smoky clouds that mixed and evaporated in between us.

"I mean," he explained, "it seems kind of stupid to me that you did all this without having some sort of plan for when all this was over."

"I kind of figured that I'd be dead before all this was over."

"I see." He stated as he turned back around and continued to stare out in front of us. "Stupid," he mumbled as he laughed, lightly.

"Well, okay then Mr. Genius," I mocked, a smile creeping on my face. "What is your brilliant plan for when this is all over?"

He let out a long and heavy sigh. "I guess that I'm a bit of a hypocrite. I don't even have a plan myself."

"What? Can't you go home?"

"Probably not. I left home as soon as I graduated high school, without so much as telling anyone goodbye. So, I doubt my parents will be too thrilled to see me again. We never got along much before anyways."

There was a moment silence as I took in what Omar had just told me. I would have never guessed that Omar was on bad terms with his family or that he had ran away to join the army. But, nevertheless, I was happy that he found me worthy to be privy of this knowledge.

"Stupid," I finally mumbled back to Omar and we both laughed.

"I guess we're up the same creek without a paddle."

I turned back to look at him and the awkwardness that was there before was now gone, replaced with a friendly kind of comfort. I figured that if I wanted any time alone with him, without anyone else to interfere, now would be the perfect time.

I knew he had let his guard down, so coupling that with the fact that I was both taller and stronger than him gave me a distinct advantage.

I quickly grabbed him by his shoulders and pushed him against the barn wall. I tried to do it as quietly as I could. The last thing I needed was someone walking in on us.

"What are you…?" He asked, his voice a bit higher than normal. And there on his face was that same petrified look that I had saw earlier that evening, on the ride over here.

"How do you feel about me?" I blurted out, "You must feel something for me, or otherwise you wouldn't have returned that kiss." His eyes widen a bit more, if that was even possible and I knew he was on the verge of reaching for his gun. I could feel him slowly reaching for it; not to shoot me, but he'd probably pistol whip me with it.

"Listen, that night was just… Just," he stuttered, acting like a frightened and cornered animal. "We were both acting out our physical needs. And God knows, we hadn't had any, um, physical comfort for quite awhile."

"Alright," I said, placidly, "if it was just you acting out your physical needs, then why didn't you take that pretty redhead back to your room that night at the bar after our kiss? You could have." And he could have. Weeks after our first kiss we had gone to a bar and a pretty, little redhead who was drunk off her rocker was just looking for someone to take her back to their place with them. But no matter how much rubbing up against Omar she did, he would simply smile and turn her down.

"I- I didn't find her attractive."

"Bull!" I practically yelled, causing him to flinch. "I'll make you a deal." He stared at me warily, but with a hint of curiosity under his cautious gaze. "Let me kiss you again. And afterwards you tell me how you feel about me. If you don't like it, we'll never do it again. But if just don't want to kiss me, just say the word and I'll stop here and now and never bother you ever again, I promise."

He swallowed, audibly. I could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he thought over my proposition. And with every second that passed I felt my hope rise and fall drastically. I hoped that he would say yes and let me kiss him, but I was also scared of his rejection. He was sending me on an emotional roller coaster that I had never been on before, and I wished that the ride would just stop already.

He finally looked me straight in the eye and nodded his head. He gave me consent to kiss him. I couldn't believe it, and yet at the same time could. Now it was my turn to swallow nervously.

I released my grip on his shoulders and gently took his face in my hands. My calloused fingers brushing against his soft skin, lightly. It was such a strange sensation; it sent what felt like sparks of electricity charging through my arm and straight to my core. I moved my face, slowly, closer to his. He flinched away, and it felt like someone had jabbed me in the chest when he did, but I never forced his head to stay in place. I only kept my hands there as an anchor for myself.

He flinched again, and about that time I was about to call the whole thing off when he shocked me with what he did next. He gradually leaned his head closer to mine, till he was about an inch away from me. I watched as his eyes flicked from my eyes to my lips and then stopped to stare, silently, at them. So, I finally covered his lips with my own.

It was a slow and tender kiss, nothing like our first rough and sloppy one, but just as intense. I pulled him closer to me, moving my lips roughly against his as he did the same, until finally I pulled away. I needed to know how he felt about me, and now. Otherwise, I think I might have gone insane.

I pulled away quickly and stared at him, waiting for his answer. He was gasping for air like he had just run a three day marathon.

"I don't know what to think anymore," he told me, staring up at me with pleading eyes.

"Then don't," I replied, releasing his face. "Do whatever you want. It's up to you now."

He let out a shaky breath as trembling hands reached for my face. I stopped them by catching them with my own, and then leaned down and kissed him again. This one was even more intense than the last, and I found my hands roaming, unrestricted, all over Omar's body, but he didn't seem to mind, if his moans where anything to judge by.

As our kiss progressed on, I darted my tongue out and licked his bottom lip, slowly, making him moan very seductively. He opened his mouth to me without disapproval, allowing my tongue free reign over his mouth.

He tasted bitter and sweet at the same time, which I had never thought possible before, and it was intoxicating. He moaned again as he tentatively placed his hands on my stomach and his fingers found the buttons to my shirt.

I pulled away from his addicting lips and stared into his glossy, lust clouded eyes, and felt a moment of smug satisfaction.

My hands, which had wandered away from me, had found comfort on Omar's body. One on the small of his back, pulling him closer and the other on the hem of his pants. As my hand on the hem of his pants began to creep under the garment, I felt cool fingers slip under my shirt, after they had tackled the obstacle of unbuttoning the buttons.

When his hands began to move up my chest I couldn't help but moan as the feeling left a tingling sensation in its wake. After a few more torturous seconds of this, I let out a guttural growl and started nipping at the soft flesh of Omar's neck. He moaned louder and I shoved him, roughly, against the barn wall again and pinned him to it.

At some point I felt as though someone was watching us, but my attention was quickly pulled back to Omar when I felt deft hands fiddle with my belt. And when his fingers brushed against my groin, I found myself automatically grinding my erection into his hand. I could also feel his own need pressing against my thigh, which only made me more aroused.

Moving the collar of his shirt farther down his shoulder and exposing that tantalizing bit of flesh, I bit down hard at the junction of where neck met shoulder, marking him in the most primitive way possible. I heard him stifle a yelp, but afterwards I was immediately soothing the agitated flesh with my tongue.

I felt liquid heat pool in my groin, and I knew I wasn't going to last long. And his clever hands weren't being too clever tonight as they were still messing with my stupid belt. Finally, I just said forget it, and slipped one of my hands into his pants and wrapped it around his erection. He jumped from surprise and looked me straight in the eyes as I pulled away from his neck. I wanted to see the look on his face as I made him come.

I watched his face flash with different emotions and expressions with every movement I made with my hand, and I soaked them all in and seared them to memory. I watched the quick rise and fall of his chest with every gasp of breath he took. The way his face contorted into a look of pain and pleasure as I took him in my hand. And the way his eyes looked dark with lust and pleading for me to pleasure him in any way possible. It was a beautiful look on him.

I few more twists of my wrist and he was coming in his pants. After watching that, it wasn't long before I came too.

Stars exploded in front of my eyes as my pleasure reached its peak and pushed me over it. For a moment it was hard to breath and my vision went black as I was overcome by the sensation. But soon I was coming down from my high and my vision slowly returned. The first thing I saw was Omar's sweaty and panting figure as I still had him pressed up against the barn wall.

"That was better than I thought," panted Omar. "We should definitely do that again."

"We should do more than just that," I replied, pushing myself off of Omar and taking a seat against the barn wall next to him. I was currently floating on cloud nine while drunk on euphoria.

"Yeah, definitely."

A/N: There you have it chapter two. Urgh… It's sooooo cheesy. I can't help it. I really like soft and romantic love stories, and can only seem to write those types of stories. Oh, well, I hope you still enjoyed it anyways… Anyone who is still reading this that is.

Next chapter - Lt. Archie Hicox's notes. Hicox/Stiglitz slash!