The One Where Chandler Gets High

By: Jana

Chapter One

XXX

-"Fuck!" Chandler exclaimed, slamming his textbook closed and pushing it off the desk onto the floor. "My brain feels like it's going to explode! What the fuck was I thinking, signing up for six classes? I should have kept it at three, or four, tops!"

"Chandler," Ross soothed, "Just chill, ok? Just take it one subject, one task at a time."

"Easy for you to say!" Chandler shot back, "You like all that dinosaur shit you signed up for!"

"You like that writing course," Ross reminded, his attention back on the passage he was reading and attempting to memorize.

"That's about the only one," he returned, his agitation only slightly duller. It was nearly a minute later, when suddenly, out of virtually nowhere, he shouted, "Aaahh! I can't even think about picking that book back up! Fuck it," he added, grabbing his coat out of his closet, "I'm gonna go pick up!"

"You think that's wise, with it being midterms and all?" Ross asked, his tone almost disapproving.

"Don't really care if it's wise, Ross," he answered, pushing his arms into his sleeves as he moved towards the door. "You hittin' it, too?"

After a moment's deliberation, Ross sighed, "Sure. I can take a break."

"Cool. I'll pick up twenty, then," Chandler muttered, then added, "Be back in a few," before storming out the door, slamming it as he left.

X

-Ross only glanced in Chandler's direction when he reentered their dorm room nearly an hour later, knowing before he even spoke, that his mission had been successful.

"You seem to be in a better mood," Ross mused, his eyes still on his textbook. "I take it Jarod hooked you up?"

Chandler scoffed happily as he shoved his hand into his pocket, fisting his prize as he removed it and heading straight for his desk. "Oh, he hooked me up but good! Check this shit out! This is some seriously righteous bud, Dude!"

Marking his place first, Ross closed his book and spun around in his rolling swivel chair, giving Chandler his undivided attention as he watched him dig in his desk drawer to locate his piece. "You get way too excited about this shit, man," he laughed, prompting a wide grin to appear across Chandler's face in response.

Holding the glass pipe up that he had just produced from his drawer, Chandler waggled it at him before gesturing for him to join him over at his bed. "Just wait, man," he told him as he took a seat at the edge of the mattress, "When you see this shit, you'll be excited, too. This shit'll mess you up in three hits!"

"That good, huh?" Ross asked as he inched closer, peering over as Chandler carefully unwrapped his treasure; even he could see the quality of it. "Wow," he asked in awe, "How did Jarod get that?"

"I didn't ask," Chandler answered, steadying the pipe on his lap as he began to break the nugg into workable pieces, filling the bowl with agonizingly slow precision. "You want greens?"

"Nah, man," Ross declined, "This is your party, you hit it first."

Smirking back at him briefly, Chandler set the rest of his weed aside, fished into his pants pocket to retrieve his lighter, then raised the pipe to his lips. His thumb covered the carb as soon as he sparked the lighter and applied it to the bowl, then hit it hard, watching the smoke fill the chamber before removing his thumb and clearing it with one sharp intake of breath.

Forcing his lungs to hold it in for as long as possible, Chandler grimaced as he passed the pipe and lighter over to Ross, nodding in approval as he ripped it just as hard as he had. "Did I lie?" he asked as he exhaled slowly, to which Ross simply shook his head as he passed the items back to him.

Several turns later, the weed was all but gone, and Chandler muttered an apologetic, "It's ash, man," before tapping the pipe to his palm and wiping the remnants on his pants. "Fuck," he breathed, dropping his body back on the bed, "I'm so fucking wasted. Dude," he added with a lazy chuckle, "Kick that purifier into high gear, would'ja? We totally hot-boxed the room!"

Nodding once, Ross moved in slow motion, flipping the dial up a notch before collapsing onto his own bed, a low contented groan escaping. Time was distorted, minutes ticking by in silence, seeming like hours, the only sound in the room the hum of the air purifier.

"You know what sounds good?" Ross eventually asked, lazily licking his dry lips in a futile effort to wet them.

"Hmm?" was Chandler's hummed reply.

"Pizza," Ross answered, smiling when Chandler started chuckling softly.

"I'll pay if you call," he mumbled, adding just as indistinctly, "I can't even talk right now."

Laughing, Ross informed him, "Dude, you're talking right now!"

"Fuck, Dude," Chandler slurred, "Not English!"

"Dude," Ross laughed again, pushing himself upright with effort, "You are so high right now."

"Fuck, man, tell me something I don't know!" he shot back, laughing along with, his lips curling up into a half smile.

"Ok," Ross muttered, standing, snagging a pizza flyer off Chandler's desk before heading for the door and the payphone out in the hall, "My sister has the hots for you."

Chandler's eyes popped open, staring up at the ceiling as he asked, "Monica?"

"Dude," Ross called over his shoulder as he fumbled with the doorknob, "I only got the one sister."

"Right," Chandler sighed, smirking as his eyes drifted closed once again, mumbling to himself once alone in the room, "She's hot."

XXX

-Proud of his accomplishment, Chandler gathered his papers, tapped them against the desk to straighten them, then tucked them into his Pee Chee folder before setting it, along with his textbooks, to the top left corner.

"With time to spare," he muttered to himself, pushing away in his seat and reaching to open his bottom drawer; the knock at the door stopped his action short.

Yanking it open, he half expected to see the annoying neighbor that was always borrowing something; he startled at who was standing before him. "Monica, hey. Hi."

"Hey, Chandler," she returned, stuttering slightly, "Is, um, Ross here?"

"No, actually," he answered, almost apologetically, "He went to the library after his last class to finish up one of his papers. You want to come in and wait for him?" he asked, gesturing for her to enter.

Seemingly hesitant, she muttered, "Um, yeah. Ok, sure." Stepping in with a sense of caution, she looked around as her arms wrapped around herself, then slowly took a seat on her brother's bed, avoiding direct eye contact with Chandler.

Seeing how uncomfortable she was, Chandler attempted to engage her in small talk, asking casually, "So, how's that cooking school going?"

"Oh, it's going really well!" she answered, relaxing some, openly excited about the topic. "I'm really enjoying it! I'm already top of my class," she added, smiling proudly.

"Hey, that's great," he returned sincerely, taking a seat on his own bed and across from her.

"What about you?" she asked politely. "How are your classes going?"

"Well, actually," he answered, obviously pleased with himself, "I just finished my last midterm paper! I was, actually, just getting ready to celebrate."

"Celebrate?" she asked, amused over the thought of it, though she wasn't exactly sure why.

"Yeah." He eyed her for a second, then stood and approached his desk, his hand on the drawer handle, pausing before opening it as he asked, "Are you cool?"

Shrugging, she muttered, "My classmates sure didn't seem to think so."

"No," he clarified, pulling a clear baggie and his glass pipe from the drawer, holding it up for her to see, "Are you cool?"

She stared at the items in his hand for a long few seconds, then asked haltingly, "Is, that… marijuana?"

"Yeah," he confirmed with a smirk, retaking his seat as he asked, "You're not gonna narc on me, are ya?"

"No," she assured him, watching him intently as he packed the bowl, a curious expression on her face.

Catching the look she was directing at him, he asked, "You blaze?"

"Huh?"

Laughing shortly, he said, "Blaze means to smoke weed. Do you?"

"I haven't before, no," she answered, as if ashamed, then quickly added, "I think Rachel has though."

Nodding, he asked, "Ever want to?" When several seconds passed without a reply, he added, "No pressure. Just thought I'd offer."

"I never really thought about it," she near-whispered, adding nervously, "I don't really know how."

"Oh, it's easy," he told her, patting the mattress beside him, inviting her to join him. Slowly, she stood, stepping up to his bed and lowering herself next to him as he began to explain. "This little hole here, at the side, is called the carb. Put your thumb over it, then spark the bowl and hit it. When you see the smoke fill the stem, the chamber, take your thumb off the carb and inhale through your mouth. Watch," he said, then proceeded to demonstrate.

Hitting it hard, he held the smoke in his lungs, choking out, "Hold it in, gets you higher," then handed her the pipe and the lighter.

She stared down at the piece for a moment, then brought it to her lips and followed his instructions to the letter. Once she inhaled, she started coughing, and he fought to hide his smile as he suggested, "Take a smaller hit, till you're used to it." When she moved to hand it back to him, he gestured back towards her, adding, "Go ahead and hit it again. You didn't really get anything the first time."

Trying it again, she took his advice and hit it lightly, holding the smoke in her lungs like he had for as long as possible before exhaling, feeling an odd sense of pride when he smiled back at her and praised her.

"There'ya go! See? Easy!"

Taking the pipe and lighter from her, he took his turn, then passed it back as soon as he was finished. By her third turn, she was already starting to feel the effects, and by the time the bowl was ash, the world around her seemed fuzzy and dreamlike.

"Chandler?" she asked with a chuckle, "Is the room moving?"

"You just got the spins!" he announced with a short laugh, falling back onto the bed, grabbing at her arm to encourage her to do the same. Limply, she allowed her body to drop beside him, and when she did, he told her, "Stare at a fixed spot on the ceiling."

"Your ceiling is filthy," she mumbled, staring at one stain in particular, smiling when he laughed at her attempt at humor.

"We think the guys who lived here before us used to throw wet paper towels up there for sport," he mumbled back, inching closer to her, his fingers tracing invisible lines across her arm.

In her altered state of mind, it took nearly a minute for her to realize what he was doing, but when she finally did, the lazy grin she wore faded in favor of a more serious expression. "Chandler? What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he answered, "If you don't want me to."

Watching her eyes, hoping to read her answer in the blue depths, he waited patiently for her to respond, advancing no further, on the chance it was no.

"And if I do?" she asked as she turned her head to face him; the fact that she was nervous was completely recognizable to him. He would have to go slow. Give her time to acclimate.

Shifting onto his side, he propped himself up on his elbow, almost hovering over her as he placed his hand gently on her stomach while pressing his lips softly to hers. It took a moment of passive acceptance, but soon she was returning his kiss, his affections, her fingers raking into his hair in encouragement for him to continue. When his hand slid up to cup her breast through the two layers of material that separated him from it, she startled and broke away slightly.

"Chandler," she whispered, almost remorsefully, "I've never…"

As she trailed off, he smiled down on her, whispering back in a confident reassuring tone, "Don't worry, we're just getting a little better acquainted. We're not gonna do anything you don't want to."

Nodding, she admitted, "I want to kiss you some more."

"Mmmm, me too," he hummed, then asked considerately, "Did we decide yay or nay, on the wandering fingers?"

"Over clothes?" she asked, establishing the rules.

"If that's what you want," he answered, his hand frozen in place till she answered.

"Then, yay," she returned with a nervous grin, it fading as he cupped her breast once again and dropped his lips back on hers.

The kiss grew heated quickly, and as it did, his body gained all the thrill it was going to from feeling hers through her clothing. Braving forward, he removed his hand and slid it down to the hem of her shirt, inching just beneath it to gauge her reaction. When she stiffened, he asked, "So, no under the clothes? Even if they stay on?"

"If they stay on," she choked out weakly, his touch and kisses already arousing her; she could scarcely imagine the effect it would have, if he placed his hand intimately on her bare skin.

Holding her attention, staring deep into her eyes, his hand ascended under her casual, loose fitting blouse, pushing her bra up and out of his way to allow his fingers to graze over taut skin before rolling it gently between his thumb and forefinger. He smirked as her eyes drifted closed in pleasure.

"You like that." It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and her expression and slight nod confirmed it. "You want to feel really good?" he asked, smiling gently as her eyes met his once again. "Clothes still on," he assured her, his hand continuing to play with her beneath her top; it seemed to take forever, for her to nod in answer.

She had no idea what he had planned, but in that moment, with as aroused as he was making her, she would have been willing to go all the way with him.

Instructing her silently to shift positions, so that she was laying lengthwise on the bed instead of widthwise, he whispered, "Open your legs," then immediately climbed in between them and on top of her when she complied. Her wide eyes, showing slight fear, prompted him to whisper compassionately, "Relax. Our clothes are still on, remember?"

When she nodded, he kissed her lips softly, then leaned his body into hers, their groins touching, then pressed harder as he began to rock his hips, essentially simulating the act of sexual intercourse. Her low moan broke the final straw that was his last grip on sanity, the concern that he was about to make a mess in his pants flying out of his brain as his body anticipated the rush of bliss that was drawing ever closer.

Just a few more thrusts, and he would be there.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

They both startled at the sound of his voice, Chandler quickly pushing off of Monica to sit at the foot of the bed, his arms crossing in front of his erection out of shame. The room fell eerily silent as he took several deep breaths, waiting till his body relaxed before standing to face his friend.

"Dude, that was as far as it was going to go, I swear to God."

Ross glared hard at him, before finally finding his voice. "I don't care!" he shot back. "You shouldn't have gone that far!" Then his expression changed, and he stared for a moment, like he was trying to determine something, before announcing, "You're high!" His eyes then shifted over to Monica. "You got my sister high?!"

"I didn't force her, man," Chandler defended himself weakly. "I offered, she accepted!"

"Shit, man," Ross yelled, "I thought you were my friend!"

"I am your friend!" Chandler insisted, adding, "Dude, I'm sorry. I guess things got out of hand."

"You guess?!" Ross snapped, sighing heavily as he gestured towards a still silent Monica. "That's my little sister!"

"Who happens to be eighteen and can make her own decisions," Monica chimed in finally.

"Yeah," he snipped at her, "Poor ones!"

"Yeah," she scoffed, "Like you don't do it!" When her brother's eyes grew wide, she rolled hers. "The getting high thing, Ross, not the making out with Chandler thing."

Settling slightly, Ross muttered, "Yeah, still."

"Whatever," Monica mumbled dismissively, adding, "Look, Ross, I seduced him, ok? There's no need to lose a friendship over this."

Even with as high as he was, Chandler could remember the events clearly. He had initiated things. She had just lied for him.

Discreetly, Monica reached beneath her shirt to fix her bra, then straightened the rest of her clothing after standing, shoving her hand into her pants pocket as she muttered, "Mom wanted you to have this." Thrusting a wad of money at him, she headed for the door quickly as soon as he relieved her of it, then called out softly over her shoulder, "Bye, Chandler."

"Bye, Monica," Chandler replied politely, watching as she left before addressing Ross once again. "I really am sorry, Dude. I swear, it'll never happen again!"

"Fine," Ross returned, still holding onto his anger slightly, "Let's just… move past it."

"Sure, man, if that's what you want," Chandler agreed, shifting uncomfortably, eventually asking as he tried to ease into some kind of casual conversation, "You finish your paper?"

"Yeah," Ross answered shortly, asking staunchly, "You?"

"Yeah," Chandler said, his eyes downcast as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "We're gonna be cool at some point again, right?"

"Yeah," Ross sighed, nodding only once. "At some point. Just, give me some space right now, k?" he asked of him, and Chandler nodded sadly as he grabbed his shoes off the floor by his bed.

"Sure, man, that's cool. I'll just go take a walk."

Once out in the hall, he pushed his feet into his sneakers, then headed for the exit. He wasn't three steps out the lobby doors, when he heard his name being whispered from behind him.

Spinning around, he startled when he saw Monica approaching him, and his gaze dropped to the ground in shame as she neared.

"Did he calm down any?" she asked, noting his distant behavior, but recognizing it for what it was.

"Yeah," Chandler answered, "He just wants some time alone right now."

"I'm sorry he flipped out on you," she apologized, adding in her brother's defense, "He's just really protective of me."

"Yeah," he mumbled, his eyes finally meeting hers as he added, "Thanks for lying for me. You didn't have to, though. I started it, I sure as hell can own up to it."

"It just makes sense," she explained her reasoning. "He'll forgive this whole thing faster, if I was the one who initiated things. I know how my brother thinks, Chandler, ok? It's nice that you want to, do the right thing, but, just, trust my judgment on this, alright? Just, leave it alone. Let him think it was me. It'll be easier that way, on all of us."

Nodding, he whispered, "If that's how you want it, ok."

Awkward silence followed, and she stared at her feet for several seconds, before eventually muttering, "I should get going."

"Yeah," he muttered back, "That's cool."

"I want you to know," she told him seriously, "You have nothing to feel guilty about. You gave me the choices, and I made them. It's that simple."

"K," he returned with a shrug, too uncomfortable to say what was really on his mind, but somehow, she sensed he was holding something back from her.

"Chandler? Was there something else you wanted to say?"

Shrugging again, he admitted, "I had fun with you today."

"Same here," she whispered, the hint of a smile appearing on her face, adding near immediately, and in all seriousness, "Probably best if we don't have that kind of fun again, though. You know, for Ross' sake."

"Yeah," he agreed, though reluctantly. "I value his friendship too much, to go against his wishes on this."

Nodding, she said, "Doesn't mean we can't be friends, though."

Perking in response to her optimistic words, he answered with a slight smile, "That's cool."

Smiling back, she said, "Ok, then, I'm gonna get going. Unless," she added, "You'd maybe want to go grab a cup of coffee or something?"

His smile growing wider, he told her, "I know a place, just off campus."

Gesturing for him to lead the way, she fell in line beside him, smirking to herself as she muttered in response, "Cool."

To Be Continued

Author's notes:

This story is no longer available as a fanfic. Sorry for the inconvenience.

MTLBYAKY