And So It Goes

A/N; So this story is going to take some changes I wasn't expecting. Hopefully, this chapter will be much longer. Snort.

A/N2; Once again un-beta'd, although I have an offer and will probably take the dear person up on it. Any errors you point out, feel free to share in reviews.

Disclaimer; I can't stress this point too strongly, this story isn't real.

Rating; R.

Tres: You're Gonna be Wet Tonight on Main street

Joey wasn't the brightest crayon in the box – everybody knew it. But the moment Monica pushed herself against him and began to kiss him – and boy was it a kiss – he knew exactly what was going on. If there was one thing on this earththat he got, it was women. A part of his brain was screaming to pull away, because this was Monica; but the other half, the half guided by the lower portion of his body, told him to keep going.

And so he did.

Clothing came off much faster than either anticipated, succumbing to a desire neither had felt for the other before. It was strange and new, and succeeded in fueling them forward. Joey was an ardent lover, and knew exactly where to go and what to do to make Monica feel the maximum amount of pleasure. The alcohol in her brain was sending a rush throughout the rest of her body, and only one word resounded in her head. More.

He was larger than she had imagined, skilled beyond belief. Four orgasms later, and she collapsed, spent, on the bed. Neither friend said a word, because no words were needed. This would not go farther than this hotel room, beyond these two people. No one would everknow.

Monica pulled her clothes on quickly, feeling much more sober, and a little more aware of her actions. She ran her fingers through her hair, as the soft sound of Joey's snores – never entirely cured by the sleep clinic – filled the room. She sighed heavily, and avoided looking in the mirror at all costs, terrified of what would be there to stare back at her.

She twisted the doorknob slowly, eyes downcast, and at first she missed Chandler's form standing there. Her head jerked up, eyes widening at the site of one of her best friends, looking as confused as she felt. She should have expected him, should have been more cautious. This was his room.

"Oh, hey Chan…dler." She winced.

"Hey, Mon…ica. Is everything alright?" Despite the confusion just behind the surface of his eyes, he was also amused by the flustered Monica standing before him. It was the last thought in his mind that Monica could have been in the room with Joey. With Joey. She just needed to calm down, and she'd get through this!

"Yeah! I just went into your room because ours… is… well, cold! Right, cold, and I was checking for… an extra blanket. Uh huh. So what's up with you? How are you? Fine? Good! I have to go."

She tried to push past him but his hand caught her shoulder, stopping her quick getaway.

"You are a terribleliar." He was still more amused than anything, but her cheeks were flushed bright red and she was having trouble keeping her eyes from averting to the floor.

"Thanks. You're such a goodfriend."

He chuckled, and then dropped his hand from her shoulder. "Well, I hope your room warms up. Is Joey asleep?"

"Yeah," she answered, nodding. "Sleep well, Chandler."

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her cheek, barely noticing the way she winced and almost pulled away.

[[.]]

Chandler was peeling off his shirt when he noticed the empty condom wrapper in the trash basket by his bed. He frowned, eyes lingering for a moment, and for a reason unknown by him, his stomach turned. He shrugged it off, and figured that Joey must have had a woman up there at some point that night.

He yawned and pushed down his pants, then slid on his baby blue PJ's. He was comfortable now, and after a long walk and an army of thoughts he had to feed with his brain, he was most certainly ready for sleep.

He pulled down the covers of his mattress, and discovered that his pillow was resting on the other side of Joey's head. With a sigh, Chandler made his way to the opposite side of Joey's bed and pulled the covers back to grab his pillow, and when he did, his fingers grazed against something else. Something silk, soft against his fingertips. He stopped mid-pillow-pull and lowered his eyes to the fabric he held between his fingers.

Panties.

Bright red silk panties that danced a languid waltz on his hands. He stared at it, unable to pull his eyes away, because he somehow knew these panties. He'd seen them before, maybe even touched them. They were so vaguely familiar and he couldn't quite place them…

And then it hit him like a ton of bricks falling on the dot of an i. The panties were Monica's.

All the pieces of the puzzle fit, and the picture it created caused a familiar feeling of bile to rise in Chandler's throat. The way Monica was acing, the empty condom wrapper, the panties... Monica's panties.

Chandler's hand rose to his mouth to stop the heave that shook his body and he moved as fast as he could to the small hotel bathroom. He threw up twice until he was finally able to settle down against the cool tile of the floor.

Why are you so upset? He questioned himself. You should've known that if she ever slept with one of you, it'd be Joey. Great body, amazing with women Joey. Of course it would end up this way.

When he was finally able to stand up again, he found himself on shaky legs. There would be no sleep tonight. He had to talk to Monica.

He walked back into the bedroom and snatched the panties once again from the bed, stuffing them in his pocket. He exited the room, finding his legs more steady, his movements quicker. Her room was down the hall from theirs, and he took the risk of waking no one else up. Rachel had opted to stay in New York, and Phoebe was pregnant, so Monica was rooming alone.

He stopped in front of her door and didn't hesitate. He took a deep breath, raised his fist, and knocked. Monica was at the door only seconds later, hair pulled up, robe wrapped around her body, and an uneasy expression on her face.

"Oh, hey Chandler. What's up?"

He leaned against the doorframe, his shoulder supporting the rest of his body. He felt sick again.

"I think you left something in our room," he said.

"Oh?" She shifted feet. "What's that?"

He grabbed the panties from his pocket and held them accusingly in front of her. "Your underwear."