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The One With The Jam

Summary:

When Joey and Chandler finally get to making out, Chandler’s lack of physical reaction makes Joey question his interest. So Chandler takes a leap of faith and comes out to him. To his relief, Joey seems pretty unfazed by this news about Chandler’s body so long as the latter still wants to kiss him. (Spoiler alert: he does.)

Please read the notes!

Notes:

Some terms and descriptions Chandler uses are outdated and although I’ve done without slurs and details of his coming out and dysphoria, be warned for potential triggers. Also Chandler once uses the word "queer" as a self identifier.
I wrote this with season 2 Chandler in mind, but it could take place anytime he and Joey aren’t going out with anyone else.

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Chandler isn’t quite sure how it happens.

One minute he and Joey are saying goodnight to the others and walking across the hall, the next Joey has him pinned against their door (luckily, from the inside) and they’re kissing like it could save their lives.

They’re chest to chest, Joey’s hands venturing down his back to his butt.

Chandler lets out a quiet gasp as Joey’s knee parts his thighs, tongue sweeping across his bottom lip. Well, maybe it’s more of a loud gasp. Sort of a quiet whimper, really. Or not so quiet…

“Chandler.”

“Hm?”

“You zoning out again?”

“Uhh – no…”

Joey chuckles, pecking his mouth before he pulls away.

“You sure? ‘cos you don’t really seem into it.”

He inclines his head to nod down to Chandler’s crotch. Chandler follows his stare to where there is, of course, no visible bulge in his own jeans but a rather impressive one in Joey’s. He looks back up to Joey’s face. His expression seems… nervous.

Chandler swallows. “Oh, no. I am. I’m really, very into it,” he assures him, reaching up to grab Joey’s face and pull him back into a kiss. When Chandler bites down on his lip, Joey makes a noise low in his throat that positively unravels him.

Joey’s hands have reached the waistband of his jeans and he starts tugging at the hem of his shirt, fingers brushing against the bare skin beneath it when Chandler freezes.

Joey leans back again, a frown creasing his forehead.

“What’s it now?”

Chandler’s heart is pounding in his chest, palms starting to sweat as the thoughts race through his head.

He’s fully aware that his weird behavior is putting Joey off, and it’s taken them so long – way too long – to get where they are, and now that they’re both pleasantly buzzed up on the wine Monica had cracked open and Joey’s gone without a date for so long he’s finally, finally snapped and gotten his hands on Chandler like the latter has spent the last few months practically praying for, he’s about to push him away.

But he has to. He can’t do this.

Joey’s looking at him with a face that gives away exactly what he’s feeling. Confusion. Disappointment. And… hurt.

He’s an actor, for God’s sake. Why does he have to wear his heart on his sleeve like that when he’s had a little to drink? It’d be much easier to put him down if he didn’t seem to care for Chandler so much.

“Chandler,” Joey says, and his voice is so gentle Chandler wants to burst into tears or throw something across the room or kiss him or break the damn coffee table with his bare hands.

“You know you don’t have to prove anything. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t try. Because – well, I may come off as an easy guy, but I’m not stupid. If you’re not into men, I don’t wanna be your experiment or something. I don’t wanna screw up our friendship over somethin’ silly like that.”

Oh, God. No. He thinks Chandler’s using him? After the months of build-up? The weeks of sexual tension? The drunken kisses they’ve both pretended to forget immediately after they happened, so they could repeat the motion without it being A Thing? All the heated stares and hands on knees under the table Chandler’s given him tonight alone after Monica had insisted they finish the bottle?

He’s got to tell him now.

Wait, he can’t tell him! Oh, but Christ, that face – fuck it, he’s going to tell him. Shit. He’s really going to tell him…

“Joe, listen.” Chandler sighs, grabbing Joey by the front of his shirt when the other makes a move to step away. He uses his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. He’s got to get this out now before he changes his mind.

“I really do want to do this with you. And I am into guys. I know I’ve only been going out with women for as long as you’ve known me, but – well, it’s not like I’ve hooked up with even half as many women as you, plus we both know about the less than nice things that can happen to people who come out, so you can’t really blame me for acting like I wasn’t…” He clears his throat, forcing the word out. “Queer.”

Joey nods slowly. When he opens his mouth, Chandler lets go of his shirt and presses a finger to his lips. “Wait.”

He takes a deep breath. “The reason I stopped you isn’t because I’m – insecure about how I feel towards men.” He lowers his voice, well aware that they’re still leaning against their front door and the walls aren’t exactly thick in this building. “I have done stuff like this before, alright. It’s not about that. It’s… well. Okay. How do I put this…”

“It’s me, isn’t it?” Joey starts, sounding terribly disheartened, and Chandler lets out a groan.

“No, no, it’s not you, it’s me. – Wow, that is so not something I was expecting to say. Anyway – would you please let me finish? I’m trying to be serious here.”

He closes his eyes, lowering his voice even further. So much that he can feel Joey lean in slightly to hear his next words.

“Promise you’re not going to hate me?”

There’s a hand on his forearm. “I couldn’t hate you, Chandler. Whatever you’ve gotta tell me. You – you’re my best friend, right?”

Chandler bites back a smile, eyes still closed, and breathes, “Let’s hope you still think that in a minute.”

-

“So what you’re saying is… you don’t have a dick?”

Chandler almost bursts into laughter. Only his heart’s still beating in his throat, and he’s not entirely sure yet that Joey’s not about to pack his stuff and leave, so it comes out as more of a choked sob.

“No. I mean, yes. That is basically what I was saying. The number of doctors who, uhh, perform this surgery is rather small, so I’ve been on the waiting list for like… five years now. What I do have are two huge scars on my chest.”

“Huh. And that stuff you use every morning in the bathroom is not a moisturizer?”

“Nope.”

Joey nods thoughtfully, staring at the air next to Chandler’s head. Of course now he’s got to wear his poker face…

“What’d happen if I used it? Would I, like – grow tits?”

Now Chandler really starts laughing. “Jesus, Joe, it’s not a sex change gel. Did you even pass freshman biology? It’s testosterone. You’d probably just grow more gorgeous chest hair than you already have.”

His roommate turns to face him, a smile playing in the corner of his mouth.

“You like my chest hair?”

Chandler blinks. “Um. Yes. I, uhh – I do.”

Joey looks smug.

So that’s what he’s focusing on? Out of all the things Chandler’s just told him? Wow.

He clears his throat. “So – uh. You… probably have a lot of questions.”

Please don’t ask about the name, please don’t ask about the –

“Just one, really. How’d you hook up with women all this time?”

Joey’s got his head cocked to the side, looking genuinely curious.

Chandler sighs.

“Well, in the beginning they tend to think I’m this amazing guy who knows just how to pleasure a woman and never asks them to return the favor… but after a few dates, they usually want to go all the way and then I have to break up with them before they stick their hand down my pants and feel – well, almost the same thing they’d feel in their own panties.”

He clears his throat, staring at the floor. His cheeks are burning.

“So you just – you don’t get off? Ever? I mean, except for on your own?”

Chandler shakes his head, still avoiding Joey’s eyes. “Well, it’s not like I can just tell them.”

”You told me.”

“Yeah, Joe, and you’re like the first person I’ve told in about eight years when I had to tell my mom and a doctor so I could start hormone therapy.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then –

“I am?”

Chandler looks up.

Joey’s staring at him with amazement in his big brown eyes.

God, Chandler’s gone on him.

He nods. “Well, uhh. I told Janice once. She was surprisingly okay with it which, to be honest, is the reason I kept falling back on her. But apart from that…”

Joey licks his lips, scratches the back of his neck. “Wow. Uhh… thank you. I feel – honored. Really.”

Chandler frowns. “You – do?”

Joey’s eyes are raking across his face and Chandler feels his palms grow moist again. Is he searching for signs of femininity? Is he going to say something that’ll make Chandler want to curl up on the floor and die? Is he finally going to tell him to beat it?

“So, help me out here,” Joey says. “Do you still want to…? ‘Cause I can’t say I’m really a fan of the whole one-sided kinda deal so if you want – you know, ‘cause I don’t mind,” he adds casually, as though he hasn’t just said the most incredible thing.

Chandler gapes at him.

“What do you mean, you don’t mind?”

Joey blinks. “Well, you’re still you, right? You’re still Chandler. The guy I’ve wanted ever since I moved in with him.”

If Chandler’s jaw could drop any further, it would.

Joey’s hand comes up to frame his face, thumb brushing across his cheek. “Y’know I hate to brag but, well – I know how to do it. Either way, I mean.” That cheeky, shit-eating grin Chandler loves so much is working its way onto Joey’s face and, God –

Joey lands the ghost of a kiss on the corner of his mouth, moving up to his ear.

“But we don’t have to. If you’d rather not. What you just told me – that must’ve taken a lot out of you. If you want, we can just – press pause for now? Grab some beers, put on Die Hard, let the evening fade out and – maybe, uhh… cuddle? If you’re into that.”

Chandler bites back the “I’m not a girl” comment on his tongue because Joey seems to get that and he doesn’t have to be so goddamn hyper-masculine all the time. That’s not really him, anyway.

So he sighs, leaning his head against Joey’s shoulder, and murmurs, “I’d love that, actually. Thank you.”

Joey pecks his cheek and pulls him over to the sofa.

-

It’s been a week and neither of them has brought up the conversation, apart from Joey asking if any of the others knew (Ross does) and reassuring Chandler that of course he wouldn’t tell anyone unless he gave him permission.

Late in the evening they’re sat on the sofa together, sharing a PB and J sandwich. When Chandler thinks about it, they’ve been acting like a couple in the eyes of other people for a long time.

He can’t focus on the action flick that’s on because he can’t seem to stop glancing at Joey whose face twists from an excited grin into a sympathetic grimace from time to time whenever the movie’s hero is injured.

He’s finished his half of the sandwich, and there’s a little bit of jam on his bottom lip.

“Hey, Chandler, are you seeing this? That’s incredible; do you think I could do that?”

Chandler blinks, looking up from Joey’s mouth to his eyes. “What? Yeah. I mean –“ He glances at the screen. “Oh, yeah, no. I think that was a stunt man.”

Joey nods in that slow way of his, throwing a small smile Chandler’s way.

The jam is still on his lip. It’s extremely distracting.

Chandler clears his throat. “Hey, uhh – Joe.”

“Hm?”

Joey’s eyes are fixed on the screen again. Why’s Chandler’s heart beating so fast?

He scoots closer, and closer, until their thighs are touching – not pressed together, just barely brushing. His cheeks are burning. He can’t take his eyes off that little smudge of red jam.

There’s a sharp intake of breath as Joey turns his head to face him, noticing how close they are.

“Y-yeah?” He says, a little breathily.

Oh. What’s Chandler doing? Wasn’t he just going to point out how irritating that bit of jam on Joey’s lip is? Or make fun of him for it? Why can’t Joey just wipe it away like any normal adult would?

Chandler swallows. “You’ve got, uhh. You’ve… There’s a little… you have… really… nice… lips…”

And then they’re kissing.

Chandler doesn’t know who of them has closed the distance.

It’s different this time; this kiss is soft.

Joey’s releasing a little breath, and then he tilts his head and kisses back. Chandler lets his tongue dart out and runs it across his bottom lip, tasting the sweetness of the jam and the saltiness of the peanut butter. Joey’s hand finds its way into his hair, tugging gently on it, and maybe Chandler moans a little.

He’s not sure how much time has passed when they part, both breathing heavily. There’s a blush high on Joey’s cheeks and he seems almost dazed.

I did that, Chandler reminds himself in astonishment.

“Wow, Chandler – if you wanted a kiss you coulda just said.”

Chandler’s face grows even hotter.

“I – uhh. Actually,” he stutters. “You had some jam. On your lip. But it’s gone now.”

“I should damn well think so. You were very thorough.”

Joey winks at him and – oh, God. Can he stop being so unbearably attractive?

“So, uhh.”

Joey clasps his hands together. There’s an explosion on TV but it doesn’t seem to capture his attention anymore now that he’s looking at Chandler. “Did ya like that?”

Chandler raises an eyebrow. “Oh gee, what, like you couldn’t tell?”

Joey chuckles. “C’mere, then.”

Chandler obliges all too willingly, pulling one knee up to sit facing him, and leans in. Joey presses a chaste kiss to his lips before he opens his mouth, letting Chandler in. He catches Joey’s bottom lip between the two of his, biting back a smile when the other man lets out a sigh.

When he pulls away a little, teasingly, Joey follows immediately, giving a low whine.

Chandler laughs and kisses him again, hard, mostly to hear him make more of those gorgeous noises as he sits up on his knees, pushing Joey back against the armrest, and crawls up to hover above him. Joey’s arms loop around his neck, one playing with the hair at the nape of it, the other sliding down his back and into his jeans pocket, cupping his ass.

Chandler’s breathes a little Oh into Joey’s mouth when he feels him squeeze gently.

Joey hums, sucking on Chandler’s bottom lip as he puts a little pressure on his lower back, making Chandler slide his knees down the sofa, elbows resting on both sides of Joey’s face and body pressed up right against him. There’s a thigh between his thighs and – oh.

“Hmm – huh – Joe.”

“Yeah?” Joey drags the word out as he mouths along Chandler’s jaw, his hand still massaging his ass.

Chandler squeezes his eyes shut, breath faltering for a second as he holds himself back from grinding down against Joey’s very noticeable hard-on.

Joey’s hand stops moving and then he pulls it out of Chandler’s back pocket, lets both of his hands rest on Chandler’s back instead. “Hey, are you okay? Did I – is this, uhh – not what you want?”

Chandler sighs. The tension recedes and he sags against Joey, hiding his face in his neck. The scent of his aftershave lingers there, a smell so familiar and yet exciting from up close.

“I don’t know what I want,” Chandler admits in a soft voice. “I’ve never really had to think about that. Or maybe I just haven’t let myself. – I’m sorry,” he adds.

Joey slides one hand up his back and into his hair. “Well, that’s okay, Chan. Don’t worry ‘bout me, okay? I can take care of myself. And this is fine with me. I like just bein’ close to you. Wish we coulda done that sooner.”

Chandler feels his lips press against the side of his face.

“Never knew you were such a sap,” he murmurs.

Joey pinches him. “Now don’t you tell anyone or we’re never doing this again,” he says in a playful threat.

At least Chandler hopes it’s playful.

He smiles, presses a kiss to Joey’s jaw. “Can’t promise my lips are sealed. Maybe you’ll just have to keep ‘em busy.”

It takes a moment, but then Joey turns his head and grins. “Hey, I can do that.”

He still tastes faintly like strawberry jam.

Chandler thinks he could definitely to get used to this.