Chapter 2: Is This Real?

Alone, at last.

Chandler turned back from the closed hotel door, now safely chained, and promptly lost his breath.

Monica was smiling at him radiantly. There were absolutely no words for the beauty that was she, for the longing he detected in her eyes. A pink blush crept up her cheeks.

"Wow….." Chandler rasped, stunned, and he took a step into her. "You look…."

"No time for that!" Monica half-groaned, and she set to work on his tie. They undressed each other with frantic speed, stopping at what seemed like every other discarded article of clothing to kiss in little, desperate pecks.

It was only once they had both bared themselves to each other, in all their respective glory, did a heavy weight descend upon the hotel room.

Flushing furiously, Monica's hands trembled, shifting as if she was lifting them to her breasts.

"…. Don't…." Chandler croaked. "It's nothing I haven't seen before." Her skin blushed crimson, and she glanced down with a shy, even embarrassed smile. Chandler watched as her blue orbs expanded and darkened a little, now that she had a full view of his…. his….

He smirked. He wasn't sure how long that she had been the thought that led to him getting so hard – he couldn't have pinpointed exactly when it started, except to say that it had been for some time. At least a year.

Monica had one hand near her mouth, as if trying to hold in a gasp of astonishment. "You…. you want me…." she breathed.

Chandler's expression collapsed into something that might have been lovesick. "Surprised? God, Mon….. who wouldn't?"

She smirked, recalling what he had told her down at the rehearsal dinner, and she looked so adorable, Chandler couldn't stand it anymore, as he swept her into his arms and kissed her.

When they finally broke apart lustily, there was a certain solemnity in how they now retreated towards the bed, a solemnity that hadn't been there before in their first interaction. Monica scooted backwards along the mattress, Chandler crawling after her, almost in awe. Not once did either of them break eye contact.

He was on top of her now, her legs spread for him, though they hadn't joined just yet. Chandler forced himself to be patient. He knew Monica wasn't teasing him, or even if she was, it certainly wasn't intentional on her part. Both of them were simply pausing, to savor the moment. Have a better appreciation of what they were about to do.

They had already crossed the Rubicon from friendship into something nebulously more, in first going to bed together. But last night could still be chalked up as something drunken and reckless, so long as they took the off-ramp here.

From how Monica's irises were now little more than pools of black desire, it was clear she was ready to blow past the off-ramp.

Chandler swallowed hard, keeping perfectly still as Monica contemplatively traced his lips with her finger. He responded in almost perfect harmony, brushing her dark locks back from her lovely face, mesmerized by her.

"….. Chandler….?" She searched his gaze.

"I don't want to hurt you." He meant it in the physical sense, even as he was subconsciously aware that there was more to it than that. So much more. He didn't want to be the one to leave her in an emotional heap if they lost control of this thing, if it went south. The ghost of Kip, and how his and Monica's relationship had irrevocably altered the friend group in its aftermath, hung thick in the air. Chandler recalled well how Monica had been crushed after losing Richard. Hell, she'd been despondent over that Pete, even though in Chandler's esteemed opinion, she was mad to have considered the millionaire playboy much of a loss. To think that some loser would choose a Fighting competition over this woman….!

Every last one of those men was a fucking fool. "Those other guys were insane," he breathed, dipping his lips to hers, before moving on to press kisses along her face. "Absolutely insane, to let you go….."

He and Monica embraced, their palms reverently and tenderly clasping rippling, sweaty skin. She guided him to her entrance, so that he could properly mate with her.

Once he was inside her, Monica drooped her head back with a sigh befitting an addict achieving their next hit.

The couple moved together with impossible gentleness almost unachievable for the carnal, beastly act in which they were now engaged. Chandler didn't ask Monica every other second if 'This is OK' or 'Are you all right?' – her moans of pleasure in his ear were making that very clear, and his asking of her would have been pathetic anyway. There was such a thing as being too cautious in bed, something that many guys often confused for gentlemanly deference.

Even their breathing was in sync, the sounds they both made heavy, staccato, breathy and labored. Kissing her neck, Chandler caught a glimpse of his love: she was drooped underneath him, utterly relaxed, her lashes fluttering around closed eyelids as she softly writhed beneath him.

The smack of their lips could be heard in the silence as Chandler and Monica kissed again and again. It was heaven, to worship her like this. Chandler only exerted himself as much as he had to, not because he wasn't receiving any enjoyment, but because he wanted Monica to feel like the princess she was. Have someone make love to her the way she deserved. Nevertheless, he let her set the pace, only speeding up when she was close to release and began panting in his ear to take her "harder….. faster….. faster….."

"Monica….." Chandler groaned, lolling his face in the valley of her breasts, kissing the swells of them, nuzzling his nose into her peaked nipples.

"Oh, Chandler….. Chandler….." She embraced him lovingly, lifting her hips to meet his. There was something in her tone that sounded like she was actually crying from the bliss. "Say…. Say my name again….. just like that…."

"Mon…." He grunted. "Have mercy, what you do to me, woman…."

She wrapped her legs about his torso completely, in the second before she whimpered, her muscles clenched and trapped him deep inside her, milking him, and she came with a content sigh. Chandler felt his fingers dig into the pillow, catching some of the dark strands of her hair that now fanned out around her head like a halo. Lifting his head, to behold her flushed and breathless smile, he was awestruck. She didn't look real, almost. He kissed her tenderly, and she melted up into him with a murmur.

Chandler swore she was forming words in that murmur, but his lips swallowed them and he didn't hear.

"Can….. can I stay….?" He warbled, sounding like a lost little boy. Please let me stay inside you. He inwardly cursed himself for sounding so clingy, already needing her. Needing her like he needed air.

"Oh, goodness, yes! Of course….. Of course….." Monica held him close, stroking the nape of his neck. Chandler shifted off of her slightly, to the side, lest he crush her.

He drifted off to sleep with her naked body pressed to his, fitting perfectly into place like a puzzle piece to his soul.