Edited this one a little; Exintaris wrote in to gently remind me that I'd put enough alcohol in Rachel to kill her, and I also... remembered a little third something about Chandler in this season.
--------------------
Rachel's eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to focus. She raised her head from the pillow slowly, gingerly; the ghost of a headache beating softly somewhere behind her temples. She was warm, so wonderfully warm, and an arm was thrown around her waist...
It all came flooding back. The airport, Julie, that disgusting sicky-sweet phone call... running out of her apartment, ending up at that tiny bar, pouring out an increasingly incoherent tale of crystal ducks and cats and blackouts to the nodding, ever-patient bartender. Somewhere around the fifth glass of wine, visiting Paolo had started to sound like a good, no, a great idea. She'd run home for something... oh, yeah; cuter, sex-worthy underwear... seen the light under Chandler's door, and decided he needed to be screamed at...
She remembered the rest, and her whole body flushed.
"You're awake," he murmured into the back of her neck, hot breath sending tingles down to her toes.
"Yeah, I... yeah, I am." She snuggled back into him, fitting her body into his. He tightened his arm around her.
"What time do you have to go in to work?"
"Noon... what time is it now?"
"Nine-thirty. Whaddya say to cereal and a shower?"
She ground her hips slowly against him, enjoying the immediate effect it had. "I say... reverse the order."
"Yes, ma'am." He rolled her onto her back, brushing his lips against hers. She responded with a sigh, letting her palms travel up his arms as he moved on top of her, sliding his hand up her ribs.
The sunlight streamed in through Chandler's window, painting the room golden, turning the bed into a glittering dust-dance. Rachel ran her hands across Chandler's back, chasing the patches of light that made his skin glow.
"You keep this up, we're not going to make it to the shower," she laughed.
"That's a tragedy," he quipped, lips already fluttering down her throat as his hands strayed ever lower. She opened for his touch, tracing slow figure-eights on his stomach, his chest, his thighs, letting her fingers drag over his skin, exploring him, eyes wide and drinking him in.
He took her breast in his mouth, his tongue swirling lazily, and she arched into him, reaching out for him, gratified to hear him gasp, teasing him with feather-light touches.
"You're killing me," he chuckled.
"You mind?"
"Hell, no."
She slid her hands up, pressing into his back, letting him know what she wanted... and he slid into her, slowly, discovering her inch by inch. His eyes closed, a slight smile on his face, letting the sensations sink in.
He moved like a last, slow dance, trailing soft, lingering kisses on her eyelids, forehead, cheeks... finally capturing her mouth as his fingers teased her to the same languid rhythm, their bodies writhing in slow motion.
Last night had been delirious, rabid... this was slow jazz, aching, each moment drawn out, pleasure oozing over her, each neuron catching fire individually, with time to savor the blaze.
She whimpered against his lips, and he drove into her harder, faster, his thumb beating time against the place where her heartbeat had relocated. She clawed out with both hands, grabbing handfuls of bedsheet, biting her lip to keep from screaming as heat surged over her, making her weak, making her eyes roll back in her head.
Chandler moaned, low in his throat, and the sound of it sent her over the edge, her whole body in spasm, every muscle contracting... and Chandler cried out her name with one last shudder, whispering into her neck, collapsing against her with tears in his eyes.
The sudden weight of him struck something within her, and she was laughing for pure joy, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him even closer.
Mine, she thought fiercely, surprising herself. Mine.
"What's so funny?" he asked, lifting himself up, a quizzical smile on his lips.
"I'm... I was so... so sad yesterday, and now I'm... I'm..."
She trailed off, and he grinned. "Ready for that shower?"
***
Chandler made a final adjustment, running his hand under the shower spray. "Okay, perfect. Ladies first..."
She stepped in, turning her face to the spray, letting the heat beat down on her. The shower curtain rings scraped and Chandler followed, bending to pick up a bottle of shampoo.
"I should warn you," he laughed, squirting shampoo into his palm, "When we get out of here... that blue towel on the floor? That's Joey's. Never touch it, never use it, never make eye contact with it. I keep the clean ones in that little cabinet over the hamper. Same goes for the red thing that sort of resembles a washcloth."
"Good to know."
"Turn around."
She did, and felt his fingers slide into her hair, working the shampoo into it, the pads of his fingers massaging her scalp. She sighed, leaning back against him.
"You have freakishly strong fingers, Chandler. Not that I'm complaining."
"Yeah, well... I type all day. I also have overdeveloped smoking muscles."
She grinned. "I noticed... last night."
"Did you now." He put his hands on her shoulders, turning her gently. "Okay... rinse."
She let the water beat against her hair, reaching down and grabbing the soap, working up a lather, pulling Chandler towards her.
"You wash me way better than I do," he sighed happily.
"Yeah, well, you do it all the time, the thrill is gone." She went up on tiptoe, kissed his cheek. "Turn around, lemme get your back."
She stopped, running her finger down his side. "Um... Chandler?"
"It's a nubbin," he sighed.
"A... nubbin?"
"Third nipple."
"Third nipple," she mused, running the soap over it.
"Yeah... if you're gonna freak out and run, watch out for the loose tile by the sink..."
"I'm not running," she laughed. "I think it's kinda cool."
"No, you don't. No one thinks that is cool."
"Yeah, but I... I actually do." Rachel's eyes twinkled. "What can I say? I like knowing your little..." she let her hands play over it, her lips curling in a mischevious grin, "... naked secrets."
"Yeah, um, about that." Chandler turned, letting her soap his back. "Maybe we should talk about us, um, having the naked secrets, and the... well... the Ross situation?"
"Ross is with Julie... why would he care?"
"Oh trust me, Rach... he's gonna care. He's gonna hate me. I mean, the man tried to have Paolo deported."
"He did?" she grinned. "That's... bizarrely flattering."
Chandler stiffened. "And, um, about that."
"About...?"
"C'mon, Rach. You showed up here last night in tears over Ross... I think I've earned a little insecurity on this point. You were so in love with him yesterday!"
Rachel sighed. "I don't know. I don't know how I feel about that."
"Ah, just what I wanted to hear..."
"Seriously, Chandler! It's not like I planned this! I mean... I came over here for the sole purpose of screaming at you! Washing your back the next day was not on the agenda! Turn around and rinse!"
"So... what do you want to do?" He stepped under the water, letting the soap slide off.
"Okay, bottom line. Neither of us are dating anyone, right? We are two unattached, consenting adults... and the only person who might care about what we did together, has a girlfriend, which means he doesn't have the right to care. We did nothing wrong. How is this anyone's business but ours? I say, we don't mention it."
"Um. So is this, uh, a one-time thing we're not mentioning, or an... ongoing process?"
"What do you want?" Rachel asked, wrapping her arms around him from behind and rubbing her soapy skin against his.
"Kinda hard to think objectively, with the... boobies and all..."
"Which is why I'm doing it..."
"So, uh, I take it you want this to continue?"
"I don't know about you, Chandler," Rachel whispered, laying her head against the smooth planes of his shoulders, "But I'm having a great time. A surprising, totally unexpected, what-the-hell, where-did-this-come-from, great time. And that doesn't happen to me that often."
"Me either," Chandler admitted, pulling her hand up and wrapping it in both his own.
"So?"
Chandler whirled, taking Rachel in his arms, pressing her up against the tile, his hand cradling the back of her head. His mouth came down hard on her own, and Rachel responded passionately, wrapping arms and legs around him.
"I take it that's a yes?" she laughed.
"That's a yes," he said huskily.
"So," she grinned.
"So... you're my secret girlfriend."
"I'm your girlfriend?" Her mouth curved in delight.
"What, uh... what were you gonna call it?"
"Something more vulgar. But I like yours way better."
They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, grins growing. Rachel raised her hand, traced the line of Chandler's jaw.
"Hmm. Well... I think... as my first act, as your new... secret girlfriend..."
"Yeeeeeeeees?" he drawled... then his eyes flew wide as Rachel suddenly slid down him, landing neatly on her knees and taking him into her mouth, her nails dragging down his thighs, pulling him towards her hungrily.
Chandler's knees buckled, his arm flying out, grasping onto the soap dish for support. Bottles of conditioner went flying.
"You... are the best... secret girlfriend... I've ever had."
--------------------
Rachel's eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to focus. She raised her head from the pillow slowly, gingerly; the ghost of a headache beating softly somewhere behind her temples. She was warm, so wonderfully warm, and an arm was thrown around her waist...
It all came flooding back. The airport, Julie, that disgusting sicky-sweet phone call... running out of her apartment, ending up at that tiny bar, pouring out an increasingly incoherent tale of crystal ducks and cats and blackouts to the nodding, ever-patient bartender. Somewhere around the fifth glass of wine, visiting Paolo had started to sound like a good, no, a great idea. She'd run home for something... oh, yeah; cuter, sex-worthy underwear... seen the light under Chandler's door, and decided he needed to be screamed at...
She remembered the rest, and her whole body flushed.
"You're awake," he murmured into the back of her neck, hot breath sending tingles down to her toes.
"Yeah, I... yeah, I am." She snuggled back into him, fitting her body into his. He tightened his arm around her.
"What time do you have to go in to work?"
"Noon... what time is it now?"
"Nine-thirty. Whaddya say to cereal and a shower?"
She ground her hips slowly against him, enjoying the immediate effect it had. "I say... reverse the order."
"Yes, ma'am." He rolled her onto her back, brushing his lips against hers. She responded with a sigh, letting her palms travel up his arms as he moved on top of her, sliding his hand up her ribs.
The sunlight streamed in through Chandler's window, painting the room golden, turning the bed into a glittering dust-dance. Rachel ran her hands across Chandler's back, chasing the patches of light that made his skin glow.
"You keep this up, we're not going to make it to the shower," she laughed.
"That's a tragedy," he quipped, lips already fluttering down her throat as his hands strayed ever lower. She opened for his touch, tracing slow figure-eights on his stomach, his chest, his thighs, letting her fingers drag over his skin, exploring him, eyes wide and drinking him in.
He took her breast in his mouth, his tongue swirling lazily, and she arched into him, reaching out for him, gratified to hear him gasp, teasing him with feather-light touches.
"You're killing me," he chuckled.
"You mind?"
"Hell, no."
She slid her hands up, pressing into his back, letting him know what she wanted... and he slid into her, slowly, discovering her inch by inch. His eyes closed, a slight smile on his face, letting the sensations sink in.
He moved like a last, slow dance, trailing soft, lingering kisses on her eyelids, forehead, cheeks... finally capturing her mouth as his fingers teased her to the same languid rhythm, their bodies writhing in slow motion.
Last night had been delirious, rabid... this was slow jazz, aching, each moment drawn out, pleasure oozing over her, each neuron catching fire individually, with time to savor the blaze.
She whimpered against his lips, and he drove into her harder, faster, his thumb beating time against the place where her heartbeat had relocated. She clawed out with both hands, grabbing handfuls of bedsheet, biting her lip to keep from screaming as heat surged over her, making her weak, making her eyes roll back in her head.
Chandler moaned, low in his throat, and the sound of it sent her over the edge, her whole body in spasm, every muscle contracting... and Chandler cried out her name with one last shudder, whispering into her neck, collapsing against her with tears in his eyes.
The sudden weight of him struck something within her, and she was laughing for pure joy, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him even closer.
Mine, she thought fiercely, surprising herself. Mine.
"What's so funny?" he asked, lifting himself up, a quizzical smile on his lips.
"I'm... I was so... so sad yesterday, and now I'm... I'm..."
She trailed off, and he grinned. "Ready for that shower?"
***
Chandler made a final adjustment, running his hand under the shower spray. "Okay, perfect. Ladies first..."
She stepped in, turning her face to the spray, letting the heat beat down on her. The shower curtain rings scraped and Chandler followed, bending to pick up a bottle of shampoo.
"I should warn you," he laughed, squirting shampoo into his palm, "When we get out of here... that blue towel on the floor? That's Joey's. Never touch it, never use it, never make eye contact with it. I keep the clean ones in that little cabinet over the hamper. Same goes for the red thing that sort of resembles a washcloth."
"Good to know."
"Turn around."
She did, and felt his fingers slide into her hair, working the shampoo into it, the pads of his fingers massaging her scalp. She sighed, leaning back against him.
"You have freakishly strong fingers, Chandler. Not that I'm complaining."
"Yeah, well... I type all day. I also have overdeveloped smoking muscles."
She grinned. "I noticed... last night."
"Did you now." He put his hands on her shoulders, turning her gently. "Okay... rinse."
She let the water beat against her hair, reaching down and grabbing the soap, working up a lather, pulling Chandler towards her.
"You wash me way better than I do," he sighed happily.
"Yeah, well, you do it all the time, the thrill is gone." She went up on tiptoe, kissed his cheek. "Turn around, lemme get your back."
She stopped, running her finger down his side. "Um... Chandler?"
"It's a nubbin," he sighed.
"A... nubbin?"
"Third nipple."
"Third nipple," she mused, running the soap over it.
"Yeah... if you're gonna freak out and run, watch out for the loose tile by the sink..."
"I'm not running," she laughed. "I think it's kinda cool."
"No, you don't. No one thinks that is cool."
"Yeah, but I... I actually do." Rachel's eyes twinkled. "What can I say? I like knowing your little..." she let her hands play over it, her lips curling in a mischevious grin, "... naked secrets."
"Yeah, um, about that." Chandler turned, letting her soap his back. "Maybe we should talk about us, um, having the naked secrets, and the... well... the Ross situation?"
"Ross is with Julie... why would he care?"
"Oh trust me, Rach... he's gonna care. He's gonna hate me. I mean, the man tried to have Paolo deported."
"He did?" she grinned. "That's... bizarrely flattering."
Chandler stiffened. "And, um, about that."
"About...?"
"C'mon, Rach. You showed up here last night in tears over Ross... I think I've earned a little insecurity on this point. You were so in love with him yesterday!"
Rachel sighed. "I don't know. I don't know how I feel about that."
"Ah, just what I wanted to hear..."
"Seriously, Chandler! It's not like I planned this! I mean... I came over here for the sole purpose of screaming at you! Washing your back the next day was not on the agenda! Turn around and rinse!"
"So... what do you want to do?" He stepped under the water, letting the soap slide off.
"Okay, bottom line. Neither of us are dating anyone, right? We are two unattached, consenting adults... and the only person who might care about what we did together, has a girlfriend, which means he doesn't have the right to care. We did nothing wrong. How is this anyone's business but ours? I say, we don't mention it."
"Um. So is this, uh, a one-time thing we're not mentioning, or an... ongoing process?"
"What do you want?" Rachel asked, wrapping her arms around him from behind and rubbing her soapy skin against his.
"Kinda hard to think objectively, with the... boobies and all..."
"Which is why I'm doing it..."
"So, uh, I take it you want this to continue?"
"I don't know about you, Chandler," Rachel whispered, laying her head against the smooth planes of his shoulders, "But I'm having a great time. A surprising, totally unexpected, what-the-hell, where-did-this-come-from, great time. And that doesn't happen to me that often."
"Me either," Chandler admitted, pulling her hand up and wrapping it in both his own.
"So?"
Chandler whirled, taking Rachel in his arms, pressing her up against the tile, his hand cradling the back of her head. His mouth came down hard on her own, and Rachel responded passionately, wrapping arms and legs around him.
"I take it that's a yes?" she laughed.
"That's a yes," he said huskily.
"So," she grinned.
"So... you're my secret girlfriend."
"I'm your girlfriend?" Her mouth curved in delight.
"What, uh... what were you gonna call it?"
"Something more vulgar. But I like yours way better."
They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, grins growing. Rachel raised her hand, traced the line of Chandler's jaw.
"Hmm. Well... I think... as my first act, as your new... secret girlfriend..."
"Yeeeeeeeees?" he drawled... then his eyes flew wide as Rachel suddenly slid down him, landing neatly on her knees and taking him into her mouth, her nails dragging down his thighs, pulling him towards her hungrily.
Chandler's knees buckled, his arm flying out, grasping onto the soap dish for support. Bottles of conditioner went flying.
"You... are the best... secret girlfriend... I've ever had."
