CHANDLER

As heartbreaking as it was, Joey seeing someone else was the best thing that could have happened. At least, that's what Chandler told himself. It was the final nail in the coffin of Chandler's realization that it would never work. Knowing that Joey was not only unavailable, but enthusiastically into someone else made him fully understand.

What felt almost like a love confession from Joey in the kitchen yesterday became incontestably platonic today. He tore himself up over it. Accepting it was over was the only way he could protect himself. Jeez, how he backtracked after his New Year's resolution.

Chandler shuffled through his dresser drawers. In the bottom drawer, beneath a mountain of socks, he found them: three miniature bottles of Jim Beam. He tossed them absentmindedly in the drawer a while ago when his alcoholic friend came over and left them around the house. Chandler couldn't remember the last time he drank; it was out of the question during his illness.

He twisted the cap off one of the petite bottles and tossed it back, grimacing at the offensive taste. He followed suit with the next bottle, apple flavored, and then laid back on his bed. His body tingled with warmth and his head started to swim, but not in the sickening way the ANDD made it.

He still didn't know how to feel about James. Their last encounter, they conversed easily and Chandler wasn't inhibited by the usual awkwardness of forming relationships. He was blunt and unapologetic and James responded positively to all of it. It was strange to know that anytime Chandler wanted, James would be there without question. "Shit," Chandler muttered as he pulled out his cell phone.

###

Anderson was dark and dingy, exactly the way Chandler remembered it. He ducked his head, hunched his shoulders, and tried to draw as little attention as possible as he crossed the street and headed into the building.

Chandler walked by the out-of-order elevator, up the stairs, and paused outside of the apartment labeled 405. Before he could decide whether to knock or go home, it swung open.

"Hi," James smiled shyly at him.

"Hey."

"Come in. Do you want coffee?"

Chandler walked by him slowly, taking in his surroundings. It was a studio. The entry was a hallway with one archway on the left side that led to a small kitchen. The end of the hallway gave way to a broad room with a bed placed at the far end. Shabby furniture was scattered around the room, but there was no table to eat at. It looked very lived in, but far from homey. "Sure."

"Got it."

James hurried away and Chandler settled onto a lone wooden chair pressed against the wall. James returned with two mismatched cups, passing one to Chandler.

"I like your place," Chandler lied. James had seen him gawking at the unwelcoming room and it would be rude not to comment.

"Ha. It's somewhere to live," James took a small sip, "I was surprised you called."

"Honestly, me too," he wondered if James could smell the alcohol on him. He took a drink and tasted the drop of creamer and packet of sugar, his customary coffee order that James knew without request.

"Why did you?"

It was a question Chandler didn't want to ask himself. He carefully set the cup on the floor and stood, moving in on James's personal space. James watched, awed, but didn't step away.

Chandler leaned in and kissed him. There was no heart-pounding fear that he would be rejected and he didn't have the exploding nerves that he did around Joey. It was easy and impersonal.

They moved to the bed. Chandler wasn't rough, but he wasn't tender either. There was no posturing, no pretending it was romantic, only the spiraling desire to be close to someone.

###

"This can't happen again," Chandler said as he pulled on his shoes.

"Okay," James sounded content, clearly not accepting the statement.

"I'm serious."

"Okay," James repeated.

Chandler sighed. It was almost miraculous how quickly he could regret a decision.

###

Chandler took a sip of his espresso and cringed, but he was up late last night and needed something to make it through the day.

"Another late night?" Monica said in an insinuating tone.

"Ugh," Chandler groaned and rubbed his temples. Two weeks passed since the first time he called James. He wished he didn't have to say 'the first time'. He wanted to be able to say it was 'the single and only time', but that wasn't the case. He had now shown up four nights in two weeks to James's shabby apartment on Skid Row.

"Who's the lucky guy?" Rachel asked.

"It's no one," he hated talking about James and wished they would move onto a new topic, but his friends were too stubborn for that.

"Let us meet him," Monica said, "We'll like him!"

I don't even know if I like him, Chandler thought. "I don't think so."

"Aww," Monica and Rachel chorused. Joey looked uncomfortable, but Chandler was too tired to decipher the cause.

"What about Joey's girl?" Chandler pointed, desperate to push the spotlight onto someone else.

Both Monica and Rachel's heads whipped around to stare at Joey. "You're seeing someone? And you didn't tell us?" Monica asked.

"Oh, uh. Yeah. She doesn't live in the city, though."

"Why is this the first I'm hearing about it?" Rachel demanded. "Don't tell me you're secretly seeing someone too, Mon."

"No, I'm alone," she said bitterly.

"Good," Rachel crossed her arms before noticing that Monica was shooting her a dirty look, "I mean, good that you're not lying to me too! Obviously I want you to have someone."

"Uh-huh."

Chandler successfully avoided further questioning as the girls moved on to the subject of some handsome/annoying guy at Monica's work. Chandler wondered about Joey's elusive girlfriend and why he was acting so cagey about her. That evening Chandler met Angel was the first and only time he saw her.

Chandler and Joey walked back home together, leaving Rachel and Monica to their own conversation that he had long since tuned out.

"Why don't you bring your girlfriend around?" Chandler asked as they walked through the streets, still slick with rainwater.

"She's busy."

It was clear Joey didn't want to discuss the issue further, so Chandler fought back his curiosity and chose not to press.

"Why don't you bring your boyfriend around?" Joey asked.

Chandler frowned. "I don't know," a blatant lie.

They walked quietly back to the apartment. As soon as he stepped through the doorway, he felt strange. Someone had been there. Something was different. He walked to the counter and ran his finger along the stove. It had been cleaned and the faint smell of 409 lingered. "Did you clean today?" Chandler asked.

"No, you didn't tell me to-" he defended.

"It's fine, I was just wondering," Chandler glanced around the room, taking in everything that had changed. The carpet was vacuumed, the chairs were neatly parallel, and the surfaces were dusted. He opened the fridge and saw that the expired contents were removed and the glass shelves were newly washed.

Chandler had the disgusted feeling of stepping on a bug. A chill ran up his spine and a sickness sloshed in his stomach. He wanted to shower and scrub the feeling away, but first he had to take care of this.

Chandler muttered something about needing to change and disappeared into his room, yanking open the window, and crawling onto the fire escape. It was the only place that he could talk at full volume without the sound penetrating the thin walls of the apartment.

"Chandler!" James answered chipperly.

"What the hell is the matter with you? You can't come into my apartment," he snapped.

"I didn't mean to upset you, Chan."

"Don't call me that!" only Joey called him that and he wouldn't have it tainted by James.

"I'm not bothering you. You won't even know I'm there."

"Except I will know you're there because you're going through our shit."

"I wouldn't go through your things. I cleaned the living room, but I didn't go into your bedroom."

Chandler peeked into his room and surveyed that the bed was still unmade and a pair of his slacks lay on the carpet where he discarded them yesterday. "It doesn't matter. I could call the cops."

"Are you going to?" James sounded hurt.

"God," Chandler resisted the temptation to throw his phone off the balcony, "Not if you stop coming," involving the cops meant admitting that he allowed things to get this far. As soon as they heard that he fooled around with James, they would consider it a simple case of spurned lovers and disregard it.

"I want to help you, Chandler."

"I don't want your help. This was a bad idea from the start."

"Don't say that-"

"Don't call me," Chandler snarled and hung up the phone.

Chandler possessed no real, romantic feelings for James. If James died, he probably wouldn't blink. The appeal of James was the unquestionable loyalty, acceptance, and brief reprieve from judgment. When he was around James, there was no obligation to appear better than he really was. He also coveted the human closeness of which he found rare. That was what he would miss most with the termination of their relationship.

Their relationship. He hated to even refer to it in such a way. It was for the best that this was ending.

Chandler climbed back into the apartment and went to the living room. Joey was positioned in front of the TV with a beer. "I think I'm going to change the locks."

He looked up curiously. "Why?"

"You're supposed to every couple years," he never heard that rule before, but it sounded realistic enough.

"Okay," Joey replied, unsuspecting. Why would he be? Chandler kept this secret under lock and key, and hopefully it would die that way.

###

A week passed without Chandler seeing James and what disturbed him most was how often he thought about him. Actually, that was the thing that disturbed him second most. First was the awareness that James was constantly nearby, but Chandler was never able to spot him. It would have been easier, maybe preferable, if he wasn't aware of the stalking.

Chandler changed the locks the day after he promised to, creating a copy of the key for himself, Joey, and Monica in preparation of Joey inevitably losing his. Despite there being no evidence of it, Chandler still felt like James was in his apartment. He took care to note where everything was in his room each morning when he left, but when he returned home, nothing was ever moved.

He sat on his bed and toyed with a stray string on his comforter as he stared at his door. An idea occurred to him. He gripped the string and tore it from the fabric, jumped up, and hurried to the door. He opened it and shoved the string in the notch where the latch went in, then carefully shut the door to secure it in the hole. He paused for a second, then slowly turned the handle and opened the door. The string fell from its cavity and dropped to the carpet. He grinned at his own genius. Tomorrow, when he went to work, he would finally know for sure if James was still ghosting around his apartment.

Work was a poor distraction. He spent the day fidgeting as he thought about his contraption at home. He was convinced that the string would be moved and he finally had the proof he needed to know he wasn't going insane.

"Chandler," Laura called as she walked up to him.

"Yeah?" he said. He didn't have to hide what he was doing because he actually had been staring at spreadsheets on his computer, although not remotely registering their contents.

"You won," she said, handing him two slips of paper.

"Won what?" he accepted and inspected the slips. They were two tickets for the Yankees game.

"The raffle," she replied in a bored voice.

"Oh, damn," he grinned. He wasn't much of a sports fan, but Joey would be ecstatic.

His mind shifted from James to Joey for the rest of the work day. Try as he might, he still found himself fixated on Joey. Some days were worse than others. Joey came with him to his doctor's appointment, comforted him, slept in the same bed as him. It was like a relapse, and if Chandler weren't so miserable at the time, he would have been much more tempted to make a move.

But this, going to a game with his best friend, he could allow himself. Seeing the look on Joey's face when his team scored kept Chandler from getting bored. He couldn't wait for his reaction when he showed him the tickets.

Chandler got off of work and walked to the coffee shop. He was in too good of a mood to feel the eyes on his back.

"Hey," he grinned as he entered and approached the group. Phoebe and Monica sat on the sofa and Joey in the armchair. "Look what I got," he handed the slips to Joey and perched himself on the arm of the sofa.

"Tickets to the Yankees game!" Joey practically shouted, "How did you get these?"

"Won 'em in a raffle at work."

"Can I go?" Joey looked at him with pleading eyes.

Chandler laughed. "Sure."

"Oh man, thanks, Chan," he beamed.

"You never ask us to the games," Monica said.

"Name one baseball player and I'll give you my ticket."

Monica paused thoughtfully, before exclaiming, "Kurt Hernandez!"

Chandler rolled his eyes. "It's Keith, and you only know that because of that Seinfeld episode."

"This is going to be great," Joey said.

"Your boyfriend doesn't like baseball?" Phoebe asked.

Chandler's lip twitched. "I don't know. I'm not seeing him anymore."

"Oh no. I'm sorry." Monica said, sounding genuinely sympathetic.

"I'm not. He was weird," telling them was freeing. He was unburdened by avoiding questions and coming up with reasons they could never meet him.

Phoebe leaned forward in her seat. "I have someone I could set you up with."

"That's okay, Pheebs. I'm tired of dating right now. Really going to focus on accounting."

"You're joking," Monica said.

Chandler gave a small laugh. "I'm sick of it. I was thinking about finding something else to do. You know, you guys all love your jobs. Why do I have to be in this mind-numbing career?"

Monica nodded. "You should try something else. Is there anything you always want to do?"

Chandler thought about it. He had few passions and interests. "Not really."

They carried on the conversation, but Joey didn't say much. Chandler expected him to interject with information about how he became an actor and it was his dream, but he sat quietly while the others chatted.

When they left, Chandler hailed a cab.

"You always take cabs everywhere now. Are you rich?" Monica asked.

"Very, I just wanted to make sure you liked me for me. Anyone wanna come with?"

"Monica, you go. Joey and I can walk," Phoebe said. Chandler wondered why she volunteered Joey to walk, but he didn't question it further.

JOEY

Joey's mind was in turmoil. One moment, Chandler was saying that he was single and inviting Joey on what could be construed as a date, and the next, he was swearing off dating.

"You've got to ask him out," Phoebe said. He knew that it was what she would say the second Chandler was out of earshot.

"I can't. You heard him."

"That's something people say when they're single. How many times have you heard Monica swear off dating and then go out with the first cute guy who asks her out?"

Joey didn't answer. It was something that they all did, but hearing it from the person he loved was different. He wasn't prepared to get shot down. It would kill him. "I can't. Let it go."

Phoebe's demeanor grew serious. "I've never seen you act like this before. You really like him. I think you're afraid to let yourself be happy."

"I don't think that's it."

"What are you so scared of?"

"We're roommates. It's complicated. What if I ask him out and he says no and we have to live with that? It would be too awkward for us to live together anymore. I don't know what I'd do if he moved out."

Phoebe was quiet. He thought this was the first time she really understood how terrified he was to put himself out there.

They walked home and exchanged little words. When Joey entered his apartment, he found a frantic Chandler, shaking his legs on one of the barstools. "You good?" Joey asked.

"I think someone was in my room," he burst out.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry."

Chandler's eyes grew wide. "You were in my room?"

"Yeah, I ran out of Aspirin."

"Oh."

"I didn't know it would bother you this much."

Chandler deflated. "It doesn't. I thought…"

"Thought what?"

"I'm being paranoid again."

Joey breathed a sharp intake of air. Paranoia was one of Chandler's symptoms. "Are you blacking out and stuff too?"

"No, no. I'm fine. I'm being weird."

###

Joey could feel his skin burning in the sun. The sky was blue and cloudless, a perfect day to watch the game. He whooped and hollered and Chandler emulated his enthusiasm. Joey knew he didn't know much about the game, but he took his ques and seemed excited nonetheless. Joey caught him smiling and watching him several times and he would grin eagerly back. It felt like old times. Him and his best friend, no fear of rejection, no reservations of their closeness.

They walked into the parking lot, laughing about nothing. Chandler punched him in the arm and leaned over, giggling uncontrollably.

"That was great," Chandler said.

"It was," Joey seconded. Their team won, and any day the Yankees won was a good day to Joey, but the company made it ten times better.

Chandler mimed swinging a baseball bat. "You think I could do that?"

"You can do anything, Chan," Joey said without teasing.

Chandler looked at him to see if he was joking, but Joey looked kindly back. "Ross is gonna be pissed he missed this."

"I wonder if we were on camera," Joey said.

"Could be," Chandler replied, "We should get a cab," he threw a hand in the air to indicate for one to stop, but traffic was bumper-to-bumper and no one could pull up to them. One cabbie stuck his hand out the window and waved for them to come over. They wandered to the car and climbed in.

"Thanks for taking me," Joey said.

"Who else would I take?"

"Ross," he pointed out.

Chandler shrugged. "I love Ross, but you know."

"Know what?"

"We've been friends for a long time so I feel bad saying it, but he's not my best friend. We don't have as much fun."

Joey's heart fluttered. "I feel you."

Chandler's face grew pink and he looked away. "Sorry about yesterday."

Joey thought maybe if he stayed quiet, Chandler would feel the need to fill the silence.

Chandler obliged, continuing, "I was tired and I've been feeling weird lately, but yeah, of course I care about you a lot."

They stared at each other. Chandler gave him that look, the one that made Joey weak: shy, but curious, like if Joey would make the first move, Chandler would gladly accept. Joey searched his eyes for an answer, but none came, so he leaned in. Chandler watched him, trying to interpret what was happening, if Joey was really going to kiss him, all his emotion displayed on his face.

Chandler moved in slowly. They were close, Joey could see the thin crow's feet beginning to form on Chandler's face. When he thought they were going to kiss, Chandler's face passed him and buried into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around Joey. Joey blinked, temporarily stunned, and then returned the hug. Is this what Chandler thought he wanted? Was he turning him down? Did he flake out at the last second? These were the types of things he needed explained to him, and Chandler was usually the one to do that. Phoebe should have never told him that he liked Chandler. This was killing him.

###

Joey was emotionally fatigued in a way he had never been. He needed to think about someone else, anyone else. If he didn't have some sort of distraction, he was going to go insane.

He wasn't sure when she gave it to him, but he found Angel's number in his phone.

"Joey?" she sounded surprised.

"Hey, do you wanna come over?"

She hummed as she contemplated. "Will you pay for my cab?"

He was broke. What irony that he was forced to ask to borrow money from Chandler. "Sure."

"To be clear, this isn't super serious, right? That's not really what I'm looking for right now."

"Just for the night."

"Sure, then. Why not?"

"Cool. See you soon. Call me when you're here, I'll meet you downstairs."

"Okay," she chirped.

Joey hung up the phone and rushed to the bathroom to shower. He smelled like a gym locker after the hot day he spent in the bleachers.

When he finished, he preened, ran mousse through his hair, and scurried to Chandler's room.

"Come in!" Chandler shouted.

"Hey, Chan. Do you think I could borrow some cash?"

"Yeah, sure. One sec," he jumped off the bed and located the jeans he'd tossed next to his dresser, fishing out his wallet, "How much?"

"Um, like twenty bucks."
Chandler handed him a bill and Joey felt a twinge of guilt to be using him for this. But why should he? He was borrowing money from a friend, nothing more. If Chandler wasn't interested in him, then the fact that it was for a one-night stand was irrelevant.

"You look nice," Chandler commented.

"Thanks. Angel's coming over."

"Oh."

"Why do you say it like that?"

"No, I didn't mean anything. I'm happy for you, buddy. I've gotta get some work done. I'll see you later."

Joey nodded and departed to the living room to wait patiently for Angel's arrival. When he got the call, he raced down the stairs and gladly paid for her ride.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Remember when you said you needed a distraction?"

She nodded.

"Well, me too."

"I can definitely help with that," she smiled cheekily.

He wished he could feel any joy from the interaction, but he was still empty. She intertwined her fingers with his as he led her back to the apartment.

He was almost disappointed when he walked past the recliners and Chandler wasn't there, but it was for the best. Seeing the lack of jealousy on Chandler's face would have hurt him even more.

He sat on the edge of his bed and Angel climbed onto his lap. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him slowly. He rested his hands on her hips and slid his tongue into her mouth, actually starting to get into it. She was petite and soft. He ran his hand up her thigh and beneath her skirt. She smiled into his mouth.

She grinded on his crotch through his pants. His dick twitched. He was getting excited and Joey was never one to underperform. He picked her up and tossed her back on the bed, evoking a giggle from her.

It was pleasurable, undeniably so, but it wasn't the exact itch Joey wanted to scratch. Joey unbuttoned his jeans then reached into his bedside drawer to grab a condom. She kissed his neck while he put it on.

He slid into her and she was warm and tight. She hugged his cock and he groaned, but he couldn't stand it anymore. He needed something else.

"Is doggy okay?" he asked. She nodded and he allowed her to readjust so that she was facing away from him. He closed his eyes and pushed into her again, but this time was different. He imagined that instead of her short, blonde bob, it was Chandler's messy brown hair, and it wasn't her, but Chandler's hips that he rested his hands on. He leaned into her and did all he could to pretend that it was Chandler's ass he was pushing into it.

He fantasized about how Chandler's face would look, contorted in pleasure having finally given in. He would bite his lip and pant for breath that he couldn't catch each time Joey rammed into him. He would grip the sheets and fruitlessly try to hold back sounds. He'd murmur Joey's name and beg him to go fast, but Joey would tease him with slow pumps until he couldn't resist anymore.

"Fuck," Joey breathed.

She moaned, loud enough for Chandler to hear from his room. He was almost irritated with her for ruining the illusion.

She came first, enthusiastically, then he came next, grunting in her ear. He rolled over and removed the condom to toss it in his wastepaper bin. She found her way beneath the covers and curled on her side. When she saw him watching her, she smiled. "Hey."

"Hey," he returned. He thought for a second as he looked at her heart-shaped face. "Maybe we should date."

She laughed lightly. "C'mon, Joey."

"I mean why not?"

"Because we don't like each other."

"I like you," he argued.

She sat up, still appearing amused. "I'll go on a date with you if you can answer me one question honestly."

"Okay," that much he could do.

"Who were you thinking about?"

He was dumbstruck momentarily. "When?" he asked, but already knew what she was going to say.

"When we were having sex. Who were you thinking about?"

Joey frowned. He was quiet for a moment, before relenting, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she tucked back a strand of his hair, "Neither of us are ready to move on. We can't date because it's convenient. That's not what I want for myself or for you."

"Thanks," he paused, before bursting out, "It's him."

"What's him?"

"My ex-girlfriend. It's him," he nodded to the other room, "Chandler. It's him."

"You're still living with your ex?" she asked.

"We didn't even date. I fell in love with him and he turned me down. I'm sorry I lied."

"Joey, I don't care that you lied, as long as you're not dating someone right now or I'd kill you. You don't owe me anything," she said, "It's not my place, but do you really think it's a good idea to stay roommates?"

"I can't leave."

"I get that. Think about it though. Pretty damn hard to move on when you see him every time you wake up."

"Trust me, I know."

A/N: I'm sorry if this chapter is boring.