My eyes open slowly, the dark shapes of Chandler's room coming in to focus, dim light peeking through the line in the door where Joey cut through years before. His deep breathing assures me that he's still deeply asleep. Gently, I slide my fingers through his, pulling his arms tighter around me.

I still have a hard time believing this is my life, that Chandler is becoming my life. That I get to fall asleep next to him, and wake up next to him, and have the most mind-blowing sex with him.

I never imagined my life would take this turn, but I'm so happy it did. It's only been just over two months, but I've never felt…happier. And happy seems like such a trite, inappropriate word, but I am.

Happiness with Chandler Bing…who knew?

I think he's pretty happy with me, too. At least if the almost constant smile on his face is any indication.

I move my head slowly and press a kiss to his arm. I should try to go back to sleep; it's probably only a matter of an hour or so before I have to sneak out of his apartment and go back to pretending we're just friends. I think we've been mostly successful in that respect so far; I know we've earned a few odd looks from our friends over the last several weeks, but none of them have managed to connect the dots yet.

I have no doubt that keeping all of this a secret has been an enormous help to us; I love our friends, but they can be overbearing, especially when it comes to the people we date. It can be incredibly difficult—keeping all of this to ourselves, to not be affectionate to each other all the time—but ultimately…it's for the best right now.

I jump when I feel lips on my shoulder. "Why're you awake?"

I shrug and smile, even though he can't see it. "Why are you?"

"Probably because you are."

I laugh quietly. "Yeah, right."

"Fine; don't believe me. Ignore my romantic sentiment."

"What? That you can't sleep if I'm not sleeping?"

"Exactly."

"You're so full of it."

He gasps in shock, pulling away from me, our arms untangling. "You don't think it's sweet that I can't sleep if you're not sleeping?"

I roll on to my back, reaching for him. "Sure, it's sweet. It's a lie, but it's sweet."

"That's rude," he tells me, settling back in to my arms. "You could at least pretend to believe my lies."

"Yes, dear," I answer, rolling my eyes.

"Oh, shut up," he says just before kissing me.

I feel myself getting lost in him, in his lips, his arms. His body starts to come alive, responding to me.

"Hey, what time is it?" I ask, my voice muffled by his mouth.

"Oh, yeah, baby, I love it when you talk dirty to me," he answers, shifting his body on to mine, and I laugh. "Now talk about deadlines and expiration dates." I laugh louder and he shushes me. "Joey is in the next room."

"Hey, man, you started it," I tell him, still giggling.

"You don't find me this funny when we're wearing clothes. Should I be worried?"

I chuckle, pulling his lips back to mine. "I guess it'll have to remain one of life's unanswered questions."

He pulls away suddenly. "Speaking of unanswered questions, it's almost five." With that, he rolls off of me, folding his hands behind his head.

I gape at him for a moment before poking his side. "You're just a tease."

"Hey, I put out!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. When it suits you," I answer, settling back down next to him, close but not touching.

"I'll put out right now, lady, don't push me."

"Promises, promises."

"You asked for it," he mock-growls, pinning me beneath him, his lips attacking my neck.

I bite my lip, willing my body not to react to him, enjoying the way we're messing with each other. It's no easy feat, though—his naked body pressed against mine tends to illicit all sorts of reactions, none of which cause me to remain stationary.

His mouth moves down to my breasts and I try to slide out from underneath him. "I really should get going."

His entire body tenses on top of mine, his fingers digging in to my arms. "Please tell me you're joking. Because I know we as a gender joke about it, but I could actually die if we stop right now."

"Blue balls and all?"

"So very, very blue," he assures me, his voice cracking.

"Well, gosh, if I'm saving a life…" I say, using my best put-upon voice.

"You're a good woman, and you will be rewarded." His lips find mine again, and I sigh in to him.

"But we don't have a lot of time," I remind him. "We have to make this quick."

"Yeah, I'll try," he tells me sarcastically.

I roll my eyes, pushing at his shoulder to get his attention. "Out of curiosity, what exactly is your definition of 'quick'? Or even your definition of 'a while'? Just so we're clear."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're not exactly Quick Draw McGraw."

"I'm not?"

"Really? After all this time you still don't know how amazing you are?"

"I mean, well, you always seem pretty satisfied—"

"That's an understatement," I scoff.

"I guess I haven't really thought about it lately, you know? If you're good with what's happening…"

"Okay, Chandler—for future reference, 'quick' is something like five, ten minutes. We usually go for…well, it's longer than ten minutes. I'm not really in the mindset to keep track of time during. Please stop beating yourself up about it."

He leans down and kisses me for a moment. "You're good for my ego."

"Well, you're good for my orgasms."

I think I take him by surprise—he bursts out laughing. I slap my hand over his mouth, trying to silence him.

"You know," he mumbles around my hand. "All this jabbering isn't going to speed up the process."

I move my hand, reaching up to kiss him. "Then let's do this, soldier."

He reaches over to the nightstand for a condom, and a moment later, his hand starts moving around frantically. His body shifts off me almost completely as he digs through the drawer's contents. "Where'd they go?"

"Are we out?" I ask, desperation coloring my voice.

"Not possible. I just bought a new box two days ago. We have a lot of sex, but I don't think it's actually possible to have that much sex in between fulltime jobs."

All of a sudden, he halfway disappears under the bed and I fight off another round of giggles. "Anything?"

He climbs off me completely and slides mostly under the bed; I peak over the edge. "Take your time. It's not like I'm naked or anything."

I hear a triumphant noise as Chandler scoots back out, box in hand. "What the hell did we do last night?"

I shrug, grabbing his hand to help him up. "Must've been pretty wild to knock stuff out of your nightstand. Anything else under there?"

"I can honestly say that I didn't notice; the things that will get me sex were a top priority. And as you'll remember, we're under a bit of a time-crunch, so…"

I tear the box out of his hand and pull out a condom, throwing the box over my shoulder. "Then please get over here."

He crawls on to the bed next to me, gesturing over my shoulder. "You know, we're going to have to go through this again tomorrow night."

"Whatever. That's tomorrow." I grab him by his shoulders and pull him to me, kissing him roughly. His arms go around me, his fingers clutching at my back.

"So," he asks me, punctuating ever few words with another kiss. "What's going to be the most efficient way to make this happen?"

I sigh in to his mouth. "Speaking of sexy-talk…"

"Well, I could call out sick, spend the day in bed with you."

I contemplate that for a few moments before shaking my head. "You just did that last week. And the week before, if memory serves. I don't want you to get in trouble for abusing the system."

"Fine, Miss Work Ethic, I'll go in today. But I won't enjoy it."

"I would never ask you to."

"So…"

"Surprise me, Chandler. Do what comes naturally. Give it to me good." Without warning, he grabs the backs of my thighs, pulling my knees out from under me, and we collapse on to the bed together, his mouth attacking mine. I moan happily, feeling his erection twitching against my thigh. I slide my hand down his chest, reaching for him, and suddenly he pulls away, standing up beside the bed. My chest heaves as I stare at him, confused.

"Condom," is all he says, so I hold it out for him, wondering where this is going. He rolls it on, then he pulls me to the edge of the mattress. Keeping his eyes on mine, he thrusts in to me suddenly and I grip the bedspread beneath me, a loud moan escaping my lips.

His hands hold on to my thighs as he drives in to me quickly, fluidly, and my toes actually curl. "Ohhhhhhhhh, yeah," I moan.

He lifts my hips off the bed a little, changing the angle, and I push in to him as hard as I can in response. "GOD!"

"Joey is still in the next room, you know," he reminds me, panting, not slowing his pace.

My hands come up to grip his wrists as my legs wrap around the back of his thighs. "Then don't be so good at this," I answer breathlessly, trying to pull him closer. He thrusts in to me quickly several times and another moan escapes me.

His hands leave my thighs, coming up to rest outside of my arms, bracing himself, most of his body now in contact with mine. "Ohhhh. Ohhhh. OHHHHHH CHANDLER." My hands grab for his hips, trying to make him move faster.

"Joey can probably hear this," he grunts. "What am I going to tell him when he asks about it later?"

"Tell him he dreamt it," I answer, my mind in a passion-induced fog. "Tell him you snuck a girl over. Tell him about us; I don't care, just DON'T STOP."

He leans forward and captures my lips with his, muffling the noises we've been making. I run a hand through his soft hair, scratching his scalp and making him shiver, the fingers of my other hand digging in to his hip. He pushes against me frantically and I can feel the pressure building in the pit of my stomach.

"Wait, wait, wait," I say suddenly, clamping my legs around him, stopping his movements.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his eyes wide and vaguely unfocused.

"Nothing," I gasp, stroking his hair. "I just don't want it to be over yet."

He breathes heavily through his nostrils. "I thought you wanted this quick."

I trace my finger down his face. "I know. I know. I just…" I hate when I can't figure out how to express what I feel when I'm with him. There's so much I want to say, but I have no idea how to say it, and it drives me nuts.

He saves me from myself by leaning down and kissing me tenderly, moving his hips slowly, and I feel my heart flutter. He gets me; he gets what I want to say, even when I can't say it. Just one of the reasons why I'm so crazy about him.

He moves slowly against me, and I'm almost startled to realize that my response to him this way right now is just as strong, that I feel like I'm already on the verge.

I screw my eyes shut, my heart feeling like a bird struggling against its cage, and I whimper into him.

"You okay down there?" he breathes, his arms gathering me close.

"Unhhhhh," is all I can say, biting my lip as my back arches in to him.

His hips continue their slow, agonizing pace, keeping me right there on the edge, just barely stopping me from tumbling over. I'm vaguely aware that I could move against him more, increase the speed, something, but this feels so extraordinary that I can't bring myself to end this.

His lips are on mine again, both of us gasping for air, our bodies glowing with a fine sheen of sweat. "Monica," he whispers. "God, Monica."

My name on his lips almost always does me in, especially when I'm this close, and this is no exception. My body starts to spasm, my hips pounding against him, muffling my yells against his mouth as best I can.

He drives in to me a few more times before I feel the muscles in his shoulders lock up beneath my hands, his body going still for a few seconds before he's pumping furiously, causing waves of pleasure to ripple through me until our bodies finally slow down.

Groggily, he climbs back in to bed, pulling me with him. "Damn it, but I love morning sex."

I hum in agreement, turning in to his side and wrapping my arm around him. "The only bad part is that we actually have to get up and be productive."

"Ugh, I hate being a contributing member of society," he moans, then drags my body on top of his, kissing me lazily.

I relax in to him for a few minutes before pulling away reluctantly. "I don't think we can start this again."

He groans in disappointment and his head flops back against his pillow. "But I still want you so bad."

I feel my heart rate pick up at his words and I smile at him softly. "I know. I want you, too."

His hands come up and stroke my back, making me shudder. "Then let's take a shower."

I chuckle a little. "I think it'd be a touch more discreet to stay in bed, don't you?"

"Hey, you said it," he answers, dragging my lips back to his.

I sigh as he kisses me, sliding my body off his until my feet land on the floor. "I have to go," I say softly, caressing his cheek for a moment before I go to the pile of clothes on the floor.

"I wish you didn't have to."

My heart clenches. "I know," I tell him, finding my robe and pulling it over my now-chilly body. Every day, it's harder to leave each other. Every day, we drag it out just a little bit longer. "Hey, do you have any idea where the rest of my clothes are?"

"Yeah, because that's the part I pay attention to at night. Besides, as I recall, you weren't wearing much in the way of clothing when you came over."

I look up at him and grin, then sit next to him on the bed. "Well, I had on more than just a bathrobe; I remember that for certain."

He gives my hand a little tug and fall across his chest willingly, putting up no fight when he kisses me.

"Hey, do you think we could talk a little tonight?"

I pull back, my brow furrowed in confusion. "Sure. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just…" he shifts uncomfortably. "I just want to talk to you about some stuff."

"Well, now I'm intrigued." I trace random patterns on his chest. "What kind of stuff?"

"It can wait."

"Doesn't have to. I have a few minutes."

He's silent for a few moments. "Hey, did you happen to see my robe down there?"

I know he's stalling, and now I feel nervousness blooming in the pit of my stomach. Still, I lean down to retrieve his clothes, and wait quietly while stands, pulling on the garment.

"Okay…so…I'm kind of freaking out a little now. Are you sure everything's all right?"

"Look, it's not that big of a deal; we've just never talked about it, so…"

I look at him expectantly. "So…."

He comes to stand in front of me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I'm probably making this sound a lot more serious than it ought to be. But, okay, the thing is…" He shifts from foot to foot, and if I weren't so worried about what it was he was trying to say, I'd have to laugh at his discomfort. "The last couple of months have been great. Better than great, actually. And I know that I have absolutely no interest in seeing anyone but you, so I was wondering if it'd be okay if I asked you not to see anyone else, either."

His words come out in such a rush that it takes me a few moments to process them. I feel a smile start to spread across my face. "Did you…just ask me to go steady?"

"Well, I didn't put it like that exactly…"

I feel excitement spreading. "But you want us to be exclusive? Only each other?" He nods, still shifting from foot to foot, his hands buried in his pockets. I jump up and wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him. "Oh, my God, of course!"

I can feel the tension drain out of his body as his arms slide around my waist. "Really? It's not too soon, is it? Because I've been thinking about it, and I can't stand the thought of seeing you go out with someone else, but you're so wonderful that any guy would be an idiot to not want to date you, and—"

I kiss him again, silencing him. Apparently, Chandler rambles when he's really nervous. I can't believe how cute it is to see him this anxious about being the only one to date me. "Chandler," I say when I finally come up for air. "There is no one else I want to be with. I promise you." He grins, pressing his forehead to mine. "You're the only one," I whisper, my eyes closing as I sigh happily.

We stand that way for a few minutes, wrapped in each other's arms, the dawn starting to peek through the windows. "Well, now that that's out of the way," Chandler says. "I guess the only thing on the menu for tonight is sex."

"Sounds good to me." I look over his shoulder and groan softly. "But it's now almost six, and Rachel will be getting up soon. I really have to get back."

"I'll walk you." He takes my hand and leads me across the dark living room to his front door, pausing to wrap me in his arms again, kissing me softly. My heart feels lighter than it has in weeks—I hadn't realized that I was waiting for this, hoping for this, at least not to this extent. But now…I'm so happy I feel like I could float off the ground.

"So, I'll see you for breakfast in about an hour?" I ask, reluctant to let him go.

"I'll be the one with the huge smile on my face," he promises, grin already present.

I pull away from him slowly and he opens the door for me. I slip across the hall to my door, for a moment feeling like a couple of college kids sneaking around our dorms. He's still looking at me as my door quietly clicks shut, and I press my back against the door for a moment, smile uncontainable. I'm pretty sure we've just taken a huge step in our relationship, and it feels great.

I hear Rachel's alarm go off in her room, snapping me out of my reverie. Even though I know she hits the snooze button several times, I hustle across the apartment and into my bedroom.

Happy is definitely not a good enough word for what I'm feeling.