The Good Stuff

The Good Stuff

Rating: NC-17 for graphic male-male sex

Pairing: Fenster/McManus

Disclaimer: The Usual Suspects, with its related characters and themes, does not belong to me. I make no money from this venture.

Dedication: This slashfic is for Ewan McGregor and Te.

Wherein McManus waxes poetic on friendship, Fenster, and "the good stuff."

If you ask Fenster, he won't say that he's a criminal. He'll say that he's my friend. That's how he sees his life.

Fenster and McManus. We sound like a law firm or something. Except that all we ever do is break the law, one way or another, usually in a really big way.

But that's the way it's always been, Fenster and McManus. We go together like that.

I'm usually the guy in front. I'm the one, usually, who works the deals, makes the contacts, handles the calls. But he's always there, always with me. And we do the work, the job, together. It's not like I'm the main guy and he's just my back-up. But oh yeah, I know he's got my back. I know no matter what he'll be there. You've gotta have somebody you can depend on, you've gotta have somebody who's going to be there to make sure that you're okay. Because sometimes it goes bad, sometimes no matter how airtight you plan it something fucks it up, and you've gotta know that you have somebody at your back.

Fenster's always got my back.

Kobayashi, Keyser Soze's guy, said something about "One cannot be betrayed if one has no people." That's no way to look at it. I got Fenster and he's got me and we know, we know, we won't betray each other. Then again, we're all the people we have. We're all the people we need. Just the two of us. The jobs come and go, the contacts come and go, sometimes we need an extra guy or an extra team or something to pull it off, but the two of us, we're it, we're the core.

And I swear to God I am the only person on the entire planet who understands every word that comes out of his mouth. His own mother doesn't get him all of the time. First of all, he talks crazy-fast; and second of all, despite how fast he's going, he's also lazy. I know, that sounds mixed up, but that's what it is. That's Fenster. Lazy but fast. So while he's going a-mile-a-minute, his lips and his tongue, I guess, are just sort of half-forming the words. Plus on top of all of that, he's got the accent.

So fucking sexy.

That's Fenster.

And I can tell you, I have no complaints whatsoever about that tongue.

Anyway, the point was, back like an hour ago, that Fenster doesn't think of himself as a criminal. I think that he thinks that criminals are guys like Keyser Soze. You know, seriously fucked-up psycho guys. Fenster, he's just making a living, and he's making his living being my partner, because we're friends.

We're friends first. Friends first and forever. Always. Working partners, yeah, we always work together, and sex partners, oh hell fuck yeah, he's the best lay I've ever had in my whole fucking life. But friends first. It's gotta be that way. Otherwise, you let the business take over, you start thinking of business first, you start thinking about your own profits and you stop caring about his. And you let the sex take over, you can't do the job.

I know he got a little pissy, though, when Keaton was sort of... It was like, according to Keaton, Keaton and I were in charge, and Keaton and I were the partners, and Keaton and I were going to have sex. No way. But Keaton was all over me, touching me, acting like I had any use for some old English ass. No thanks, man. I mean, I respected his business tactics some, but I've worked with better. And working with people is fine, but I don't need to get all buddy-buddy with everybody who comes calling, you know? And besides, like I'd ever want Keaton in my bed when I got myself some pure Cuban laid out on my sheets.

I don't think that Keaton knew, though. I don't think that he actually realized that Fenster and I are partners in more than one sense.

Todd Hockney knew, though. That crack about me and Fenster going honey-mooning wasn't just a crack; it was him letting me know that he knew about me and Fenster and that he was okay with it as long as that didn't fuck up his part of the deal. And I respect that. I can see how he'd think that Fenster and I would gang up and work some con. We've done it before. But that whole situation wasn't like we were used to, so we were sort of taking it as it came without scheming on getting more.

Where was I? I'm trying to say something here. Right. Fenster's just making a living and being my partner. And I'm doing the same with him. We make our money with big-time heist stuff. I mean, sure, we started out small. He's tall and slender, and he has hands to match, and he can pick pockets like you wouldn't believe. When he was working on that, he'd practice on me, and even knowing he was doing it I never caught him at it. The guy's amazing. That's Fenster.

You want to talk amazing - - his fingers aren't the most nimble part of his body. He's nice and flexible. Which means that when I fuck him, we can do it face-to-face; he just swings his long legs over my shoulders and we're there. It's incredible.

Yeah, we go both ways. Like I said, a partnership. I fuck him, he fucks me; I suck him, he sucks me. We both like it no matter who's doing what, long as we're together.

We met when we were twenty-one. Started working together about a month later. Started doing each other about a month after that. I mean, I wanted him, and I knew he wanted me, but it's never a good idea to screw your business partner in any sense of the word, and we worked together really well, so I thought, hey, I could get sex anywhere I wanted but a thief like Fenster only comes around once in a while. I wanted him so bad I started doing some serious fucking, I was aggressive about finding women every night to keep off the edge, I was so fucking horny. He knew; he knew I was fucking around, and I think that he knew why, too. We hadn't known each other long enough for him to know my sex life, but I think he noticed the change.

He was so fucking hot, and sexy, and the way he walks, the way he moves, the way he talks. When he's working, and he's thinking and planning, it turns me on. We move together, now; we anticipate each other, accomodate each other; we're coordinated. We fit.

I wanted him. I wanted to see him naked. I wanted to suck him. I've never been real big on cocksucking - - hell yeah, I love it when it's done to me, getting my cock sucked is on my top ten list, but doing it to another guy's never been a treat for me. Until Fenster. I wanted to suck him so bad I was having wet dreams about it, and I stopped that shit like a decade before. But I had it bad for Fenster.

So we'd known each other for two months and been working together for one month. I already knew this was going to be the one great partnership of my life. Fenster and McManus.

And while I'd been fucking like crazy trying to get my mind back on track and away from how I wanted to get his cock in my mouth, I noticed he'd been getting no action at all. Which surprised me, because he has this whole lounge lizard thing happening, and I would have guessed that he'd been charming the pants off one gender or another. I thought that he was gay, and it turns out I was right.

I'm bi. I'm not ashamed of it, but I don't like to let people know, because I figure if they know I'm bi or they know Fenster's gay, they'll figure out that we're the number one person in each other's life, and they'll figure they've found our weak spot, and it could turn ugly. If everybody thinks we're just partners at work and not under the sheets, that's good. It keeps us safer.

There I was, wanting him and knowing that nobody else was having him. I asked him about it, why he wasn't getting laid, didn't he date or trick or anything? And he said that he doesn't like to waste himself. So I made some crack about him being some great Latin lover who's too hot to waste his precious semen on regular guys. He just grinned and agreed with me. So I asked him what's so great about what he's packing?

He showed me.

I went down on my knees so fast I got dizzy. Although the dizziness could have been a side effect of how all I was breathing was Fenster's balls.

His cock isn't twenty inches of meat, but it's a nice one, very nice. You know how most guys are just sort of salty and bitter? Fenster tastes sweet, like smoked meat. He's got a long cock, with this pretty flared head. You got that in your mouth you don't ever want to let go. My cock's real sensitive, and Fenster treats me all gentle, licks me so delicate; but Fenster can take it, he takes it like a man. I just get on there and I suckle on him hard and he loves it.

So that first time, I licked him all over, I had my mouth all over that cock. It tasted good, it felt good, it got hot and hard, it was smooth like satin, like silk. I got my hands on his balls, I stroked him up, I just went to town right there like I was never getting off of my knees.

And Fenster says, "You wanna fuck me?"

"Hell yes." I didn't even have to think about it. What's to think about? Of course I wanted to fuck him, did I look stupid? So we went to his bedroom and got naked and then we were on the bed and my hands were all over him, and his talented hands were all over me, and I could've come in his hand like a geyser, but I wanted to save it, I wanted to come in his ass. He got out the lube and I got my fingers up inside him. Fenster has one tight ass. Did then, does now. I slicked him up good and rolled on a condom from my wallet, and I was about to tell him to roll over but he just raised his legs and hooked his knees on my shoulders and there we were, and my cock was nudging up where it wanted to be, and he grinned up at me all happy.

He's happy with me. He likes me. We're best friends.

That was one smooth, tight ride. First time I ever came so hard I passed out. Maybe because it was so fucking good. Maybe because I only feel safe enough to pass out when I'm with Fenster.

When I got my eyes open again, he was lying beside me propped on his right elbow, running his left forefinger along my jaw. I was cleanshaven then, didn't have the beard, and he was just lying there touching me. Which was about when I'd realized that we hadn't even kissed.

Fenster's tongue is just as lazy in my mouth as it is in his own. He licks me all slow and relaxed, like he's just taking a little tour. Every time he kisses me it just vibrates in my balls. I can't describe it any better, it's just the most casually erotic thing, getting kissed by Fenster.

Kissing was never the big thing for me, it was just pissing away time on the way to the good stuff - - the good stuff being when I got off and went home. But with Fenster, the kissing is the good stuff. Everything's the good stuff. Kissing, wild crazy fucking, slow satisfying fucking, getting casual and relaxed, hanging out, working. Just being together. Knowing that he understands me like I understand him. We're partners. We're together. We fit. We fit together just right, we lock together like it was meant to be. He swings his legs over my shoulders, I look into his eyes, he says something, I make a move, it's like we're choreographed, like we're telepathic, we just fit. Together. Fenster and McManus.

It's not about the money. It's not about the sex. The money's the best I'll ever make because the work is the best I can do because we're together. The sex is the best I'll ever get because they're the hottest sexiest pornographic orgasm-inducing erotic moments I'll ever experience because they're with him. It's about our partnership, our friendship, the two of us together, being who we are and being the best that we can be. I've never stuck by anyone like I stick by him. I've never worked to keep a relationship because no relationship ever seemed worth it to me like this one does.

Fenster says it's love. He said to me, super-fast, when I was sitting at my kitchen table eating Cheerios, that I loved him. He didn't say, "I love you." He said, "You're in love with me." It was one of the few times that I ever said, "What?" to him, but I was sure that I'd heard him wrong. He said it again, and it sounded the same. I made him repeat himself, I had to, I was sure that I was misunderstanding something - - which pissed me off, because until then I'd been really good at understanding him, both what comes out of his mouth and how his mind works. So he said, still cool and happy but a little bit irritated about having to repeat himself again, for me of all people, "You love me you love me you love me!"

"No I don't."

Which was a shitty thing to say. I mean, you don't just say that to someone, especially to someone you care about, like the very idea of ever loving him is so ridiculous you can dismiss it without a second thought.

He didn't even blink. He just said, "Yes you do," and went over to turn on the TV.

I was up fast, across the room, snapping the TV off, standing in front of him. "No I don't."

He just looked down at me - - he's taller - - and shrugged. Like it didn't matter what I said because he already knew what was what.

I got pissed. It was like I had to convince him, like I couldn't let it go. Like I'd made up my mind that no, I didn't love him, so I had to make my point to correct him. So I started yelling. We've never hit each other, and I didn't then, either, but I did some wild gesturing, I remember.

He wasn't even fazed. Just sat on the sofa and then, when I got close enough, put his fingers in my beltloops and pulled me down until I was kneeling in front of him. When I pulled away he grabbed me close and looked into my eyes, so close we were bumping noses and all I saw were his eyes, a fuzzy dark brown that close. And he said, "You're in love with me and you can't say you're not because you are so shut up."

I shut up.

He kissed me.

That's Fenster.

I do love him. I have to. He's the one person in my world who matters. Besides me. And I'm the one person in his world, besides him, who matters. We're best friends, we hang out together, we work together, we play together, we fuck together. We keep separate apartments but we sleep together every night.

He never did tell me that he loves me. He never came right out and said it, I mean. He does, though. He loves me. Maybe he always has. You don't share what we share, you don't trust like we trust, you don't communicate and fuck like we do, unless there's love there. He opens up my body in sex like he opens up my mind with a look, he comes right inside of me and it's not a violation because it's like he belongs there. And I belong with him, in him, just as he belongs with me and in me.

Yeah, I'm in love with him. The way he looks and the way he moves and the way he talks, the way he kisses and the way he understands me and the way he works right with me. He's got my back and I've got his.

We're partners. In everything.

I might ask him, someday, whether he loves me. Just to see his reaction. Not because I need to know the answer. I know that he loves me, just like he knew that I loved him. He knew it before I did, and he was confident, he was sure. I'm sure, too. Fenster loves me. He doesn't even hide it. We don't need to hide it. We're such good friends that we can be just friends, in private or in public, without acting like horny kids all of the time. We're close, we're deep, and that's what tips off guys like Hockney. It's not that we exchange romantic blushing lingering glances or that we suck face in front of people, it's just that we're so connected that other people pick up on it, and sometimes they figure out that people who are that connected aren't just co-workers.

But like I said, we don't advertise. We don't need anybody knowing our business. I don't know if that's why we have separate apartments. It isn't like we spend our every minute together. We have lives, you know. We never talked about living together. We could. Share an apartment. It's just that...when people know you're close, when people see that something matters to you, it makes you weak. It makes you vulnerable.

Being with Fenster made me stronger, made something matter to me, made me a better person. But he's my one major weakness.

Knowing that you'd die for someone is terrifying. I know that I'd die for him. I almost did. I put myself on the line, heart balls and ass, almost took a bullet in the head. He yelled at me, later. Didn't speak to me for a week. Then one night he just sauntered into my apartment like he owned the place, stripped totally naked, and went to sleep in my bed. When I went to bed later, he woke up, gave me the best blowjob, looked me in the eye, and said, "You want to die, you ask me to shoot you, I'll do it myself."

That's Fenster.

Fenster and McManus.

matthew@matthewtime.com
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