2 years ago
"Look, are you going to be okay?" Chandler had asked her.
"Well, I have to be. I don't really have a choice!" And that phrase could have been her logo for the rest of that night.
Her birthday was now her personal hell. She didn't know where Ross had gone, Joey and Chandler were hooking up with her friends, Phoebe was running some kind of underground escape from Monica's party to the boys, and Monica was monitoring people's drink coasters.
And Rachel had bounced back and forth all night between her parents while they did nothing but complain and bitch and ugh. She'd had enough.
So Rachel ended up here, out in the hall, hiding. Actually, she was counting the number of people Phoebe snuck across, and who Phoebe would bribe back so that Monica didn't feel too badly about her party.
"You can be shirts and I'll be skins," came a familiar shout as a woman's legs moved past where Rachel sat in the hall. She didn't bother lifting her eyes. "I'll be skins!" Chandler called again as the woman disappeared down the stairs.
Maybe she could fall asleep out here. People might think she'd passed out drunk, but who the hell cared? It was her birthday.
She noticed Chandler walking toward her out of the corner of her eye, and fully expected him to rejoin the party. Instead he stopped.
"Hey." He sat down against the opposite wall. "How you holding up, there, Tiger?"
She frowned at him.
"Oh, sorry. When my parents were getting divorced I got a lot of 'Tigers,'" he explained with a nod. "Got a lot of 'Champs,' 'Chiefs,' 'Sports.' I even got a 'Governor.'"
Ah, the infamous Bing divorce. They all knew what hell that had been. She'd noticed him glancing at her periodically throughout the party. Maybe he recognized the signs of a divorced-child breakdown.
"This is it, isn't it?" she said, imagining future holidays and family gatherings unfolding just like today. "I mean this is what my life's going to be like. My mom there, my dad there." She gestured to each party. "Thanksgiving, Christmas. She gets the house, he gets some condo my sister's going to decorate with wicker," she spat the last word out. She hated the idea of her dad having his own place, of separation. This is what it was. Chandler was watching her, and she found herself staring. I mean it was Chandler, but he'd been there. "Chandler, how did you get through this?"
"Well," he said gently, shifting on the step and directing his blue eyes to some distant point down the hall. "I relied on a carefully regimented program of denial… and wetting the bed." He gave her a sympathetic half-smile.
Of course there was no secret answer. But he was here, and he was listening, and that seemed to help.
"You know, I just… It's so weird," she began, standing up with Chandler following. "I mean I was in there just listening to them bitch about each other, and all I kept thinking about was the Fourth of July."
"…Because it reminded you of the way our… forefathers used to bitch at each other?" he joked.
And so she told him about the Fourth of July. About the fireworks. The holiday always reminded her that even if her Family bitched at each other, they could still shut up and be a family. Gone now.
Chandler listened, large blue eyes intent.
"And now it's just…" she finished, feeling the pressure building behind her eyes. This sucked.
"Yeah, I-I know." Chandler took a step forward, one arm out and she folded herself into his chest, letting him comfort her. She did feel better. She stood there, until the ache in her heart subsided, and then they were just holding each other.
Wow he smelt nice. How was she just now noticing it?
She turned her head in towards his neck and brushed her nose along his throat.
"Rach?" His arms tightened around her.
Her hand stroked down his back to the front of his body. She moved her nose up to his ear and licked the place right beneath his earlobe. He shuddered.
"Rachel," he whispered. His voice was husky.
"Yes?" she asked, kissing along the underside of his jaw.
He backed her up against the wall with a moan of appreciation as she palmed him over the outside of his pants. He pulled her face away from his neck, and she tried to push their lips together. They brushed together firmly and electricity crackled over her skin, but he pulled back.
She tried again, and again there was firm pressure and their mingled heavy breathing, but again he pulled back.
Impatient she met his gaze and his blue eyes bored into her catching her breath. They were frozen, so close their noses brushed, breath mingling. She felt sensitive, and so, so turned on.
Sudden pressure between her legs drew an embarrassingly loud moan from her, and her head tilted back, resting against the wall. He leaned forward as he began to stroke her, fast and hard, heat rolling off him and his breath warming her ear as he pinned her to the wall. Dirty, dirty things were coming out of his mouth and in no time at all she was saying his name over and over and over. Her hips bucked and she screamed and he covered her mouth in a hot languid kiss-
-she was staring at her bedroom ceiling, the apex between her legs throbbing, her ears ringing. She blinked, then stretched with surprise. Holy hell.
She didn't know how long she lay there, basking in the after-glow, but eventually her alarm went off. She had to get ready for work.
While she picked out her outfit, she debated seeing Chandler today. She'd avoided him all day yesterday, trying to control the stupid thoughts she'd been having around him, especially after the pizza-incident. These sex dreams were getting worse. She'd had vivid sex dreams on and off for several years, but since her crush and since she'd really felt his body on her body, she couldn't trust herself to be around him. Or alone with him. Or in close proximity to him.
The worst part was, she was pretty sure he'd noticed. He'd come over and seen her a few times yesterday and she'd all but sprinted out of the apartment.
Dressed and ready, she walked into the living room.
"You really almost died, Rach?" Monica was standing in the kitchen, frozen with the orange juice jug in her hand, while Phoebe shuffled a deck of cards at the dining table.
She shrugged. "It really wasn't that big of a deal."
"Oh my God, you did almost die?!" Monica cried, setting the jug down before launching into Rachel's arms. "This was two days ago! I go to one party and nobody tells me anything!"
"Oh… I'm sorry, hon. But I'm okay, I promise. Chandler got that pizza right outta me," she said, as Monica squeezed her so tightly she thought her boobs might fly out her back to escape.
"Yeah, he looked like he wanted to put something right into you too," Phoebe smirked, still shuffling her cards, and Monica and Rachel both spun to face her.
"Um… What?" Monica stared at Phoebe with a disbelieving smile, and Rachel's face and neck flushed. Monica's grin widened when she noticed, patting Rachel on the back.
"Please, it was so obvious," Phoebe laughed, turning to face them.
"Not to me it wasn't," Rachel said. She crossed her arms and shifted away from Monica's hand.
"Well of course not to you. You couldn't see how he was standing. Oh Mon, you should have seen the way he grabbed her from behind 'accidentally.' They were practically bunny-bumping."
"That doesn't mean anything. That's just how you stand when you do the Heimlich," Rachel said firmly, joining Phoebe at the table. She tried to force the blush out of her cheeks.
Phoebe's eyes widened with a sudden realization. "You know when I lived here he was always asking if he could take a girl out on our balcony?"
"Ooh, I bet he wanted to fulfill a fantasy of his," Monica teased, nudging Rachel's ribs. If it was possible, Rachel looked even more red. Monica crossed to the kitchen and resumed making toast for the three of them. "Phoebe you can't really take that stuff seriously when it comes to Chandler. Give Rachel a break. Did I tell you he spent all beach-weekend asking me out?" She laughed.
"Seriously?" the red quickly faded from Rachel's face, and Monica hummed.
"Yeah. He asked me a hundred stupid questions like, 'if we were the last people on Earth,' and then he practiced picking me up at the front door."
Phoebe snorted, and Rachel's heart rate picked up. She watched her friend closely, but Monica wasn't displaying any of the signs of infatuation. If anything she looked amused.
"So?" Rachel asked as she opened the morning paper casually, her focus entirely on carefree Monica.
"What?"
"So? What was your answer?" Rachel's grip tightened, and she tried to loosen her hands. She turned one of the pages. She was being casual.
"Well, I think my exact words were," Monica walked to the table, brandishing a butter knife in the air, "I think you're great. I think you're sweet, and you're smart. I love you." One of the pages tore free of the paper in Rachel's hands, and she stared at it as if it had performed a magic trick in her hand.
She didn't notice Phoebe eyeing her.
"So... you and Chandler...?"
"What? NO! Are you kidding it's Chandler, and you didn't let me finish. I'll tell you what I told him. He will always be the guy that peed on me. Call me crazy, but that's just not what I'm looking for in a relationship."
Rachel slumped in relief, now no longer pretending to read. She paused. Why was she so relieved? Her crush could not go anywhere. If Monica dated Chandler, the group could adjust, but if she did...
Monica spun back to their breakfast, and Phoebe cocked an eyebrow at Rachel. She looked pointedly at the torn newspaper. Rachel had been holding her paper upside-down. She gave an innocent smile and folded it neatly.
"Toast for three," Monica announced, setting a plate and jam down in front of them. The phone rang. "Got it!" Monica called.
"Okay, spill," Phoebe said, leaning forward. Rachel frowned, crossing her arms and legs.
"Spill? Spill what?"
"Oh come on that was so obvious. You have a thing for Chandler? Seriously?"
"Hey, guys. Do you have today's paper?" Ross asked as he wandered in through their unlocked door. Rachel was never more excited to see him since that disastrous beach weekend.
"Hey Ross! Here you go." She handed him the paper. Ross paused to stare at her, suspicious.
"Um… thanks, Rach."
"No problem," she said, avoiding Phoebe's eyes as Ross went to sit on the couch.
He opened his mouth, then shut it with a frown. Silence stretched between the three of them.
"I'm going over to the boys to see if they have any more juice," she announced, ignoring the two jugs and full glasses that were sitting out on the table. Phoebe gave her a look, but Ross didn't seem too surprise. They didn't always avoid each other, but they certainly weren't above occasionally bowing out. It prevented conversations from crashing to a halt.
She walked into the boys' to find Joey sitting in a lawn chair and Chandler standing at their counter. Seeing him was like a shot of adrenaline. His tie was undone, hanging around his neck while he poured something into a thermos. His hands… he had been much closer than this in her dream.
He looked good. Tan. And the shirt he was wearing made his eyes bright. She could smell his specific scent from the door, so she buried herself in their fridge, staring at a lone jar of pickle juice.
"Hey, uh Rach, funny story," Chandler said. She loved the sound of her name on his lips, not that she was thinking of herself on his lips. "I bumped into Joanna on the street yesterday."
"My boss, Joanna?" she flinched on his behalf. Chandler was probably the new Sophie. "Wow, that must have been awkward."
"Well no, not really," he said, waving a hand, his slender fingers dancing through the air. Those fingers… "Actually, she asked me if I wanted to get a drink."
Rachel's stomach dropped. She closed the fridge and approached him cautiously.
"You, ah… didn't say yes to that, did you?" she asked, laughing. There was no way. That relationship had ended sooo badly.
"No! No," he said, matching her laughter. Thank God.
"Hello, Rachel," a naked Joanna said as a very naked Joanna crossed from the bathroom to Chandler's room. Rage built in her, bright and hot. She fixed the man across from her with a hard look as his bedroom door closed.
"Well, not at first," Chandler amended. Rachel saw red.
Her chest felt tight and, after she made him promise that he would end the relationship, she decided to leave for work early. If she got a head start, she might not have to see Joanna for long today.
Who should she run into but Phoebe in the hallway.
"Are you going back in?" Phoebe asked, motioning to her and Monica's apartment.
Rachel narrowed her eyes at her friend, "You're going to follow me either way, aren't you?"
"Pretty much."
"Well, I'm going to work. I just found out Chandler is sleeping with my boss again, so I need the office to be perfect so she won't have a reason to freak out when he breaks up with her," she confided as they began walking down the hall. Phoebe shot her a sympathetic look at the news.
"Why is he going to break up with her?" Phoebe asked.
"I almost got fired the last time."
"You asked him to, didn't you?" Phoebe said with a grin.
"Well, so what?"
Phoebe smirked knowingly as they reached the street. "You like him."
"No, Phoebe. This is my career we're talking about here. I don't want him to jeopardize it again over sex with someone he called, and I quote: 'a big dull dud'."
"Mm… A jealous lover already, Rachel Karen Green? You know I'm sure you're not missing out."
"Phoebe!"
"What! It's true." They walked in silence for a while, then Phoebe went on, saying, "My psychic told me one of my friends would have kinky sex this week."
Rachel scoffed. "You think Chandler and I are going to have kinky sex?"
"No," Phoebe laughed, and Rachel raised a brow. "I mean your boss. She seems like a boss in the bedroom if you know what I mean." Rachel's stomach rolled. She thought back to the balcony and Chandler's hands on her hips… An image of him with Joanna flashed in her mind and she immediately recoiled. Best not to go into that territory ever again.
"What, and I can't have kinky sex?"
"No," Phoebe answered like it was the most obvious thing she'd ever said. Rachel put a hand on her chest, offended. "Oh, don't take it personally, Rach. You're just, very vanilla."
Rachel frowned. "I am not vanilla."