*Hey you guys. This fic will be based on Mondler's friendship, and will skip a lot, and they just might get together at the end... or they might not. You guys decide! I wonder who will be my first re-view? :D Love you guys!*
Monica lay down on the couch. She should really be going to bed, but she could not be bothered to move. Suddenly, a huge bang was heard from outside. Monica jumped up and opened the door. Chandler stood in front of her, his tie loosened and obviously drunk.
"Are you drunk?" Monica said.
"No. Maybe… Possibly… Yeah," Chandler slurred.
"Oh my god." Monica muttered.
"Hey, I may be drunk—but… I- That doesn't mean I am not drunk." Chandler said, grinning when he thought he had made a good point, then realising it made no sense, frowned, counting on his fingers to try and work it out.
"Okay, Let's get you to bed," Monica said, and she pulled Chandler's arm around her. Chandler fell and almost toppled over, but Monica caught him. She took the key from his pocket and tried to unlock the door, as Chandler was in not fit state to even attempt it. She eventually unlocked the door for him, and then opened the door flicking the living room lights on, almost dragging Chandler into the apartment. "How the hell did you get home," Monica muttered.
"I had- took a tab," Chandler stuttered.
"Do you mean a cab?" Monica asked. Chandler paused and thought.
"Same thing," He finally decided. Monica opened the door to Chandler's bedroom and practically threw him on the bed. She dragged the trash can over in front of him.
"If I know you, and I think I do… you will need this in the morning," She grinned. She bent over in front of him and kissed his head. She was about to pull away when Chandler kissed her properly, on the lips. She stayed kissing him out of shock, until he was looking at her again.
"Why… why did you do that?" She asked.
"Because if I was sober, I would not have had the balls to do that." He mumbled, and with that, turned and fell asleep on his side. Monica stayed watching him sleep for a while, puzzled. She snapped back to reality, realized where she was and then turned and left the room, switching off his light.
The next morning, Monica walked into Chandler's room and opened the curtains. He groaned and covered his face, his expression priceless.
"Bright… light… head… exploding…" He grunted. Monica laughed and shut the curtains again, dimming the room completely. She sat on the end of his bed and he sat up, a pillow behind his head.
"Do you remember… kissing someone when you were drunk last night?" Monica asked, running her hand over his duvet.
"Nope," Chandler said. Monica swallowed and nodded, trying her best to look innocent.
"Okay. I'm gonna go get breakfast." She said.
"Don't mention food," Chandler groaned.
"Hmm… Maybe this is more than a hangover. I will get a thermometer . Get some rest for now." She kissed his head again, and left the room. Chandler watched the door shut and then smiled. Of course he remembered it. He remembered it all.
And he didn't do it because he was drunk.
He didn't do it because he was confused.
Then... why did he do it?