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“Why don’t you just leave, then?”
“Fine! I will!”
“Good!”
“Great!”
Chandler curled up next to his recliner, holding his head in his hands as his brain tried to melt out of his ears. God, why did he have to be so stupid! Now the best thing that has ever happened to him walked out the door because he told him to because he’s a fucking idiot.
Out of all the times, why did Joey have to listen to him? Why did he have to listen to his boyfriend who was not only scared of commitment and used humor as a defense mechanism, but held trauma from his parent’s divorce, regular insecurity over his internalized homophobia (that he has been getting over, but it hasn’t been easy trying to accept something that made his family break in the first place), and his debilitating depression and anxiety. (Could it get any better than that?)
He dug his fingers deep into his hair and started to scratch at the dead skin on his scalp. His throat was dry and his mouth was sour-tasting.
… When was the last time he let Joey kiss him?
When was the last time he and Joey did… it?
Chandler knew he was bad at showing affection, but this bad? No wonder why Joey left. He can do so much better with someone who would actually give him love and attention and the perfect life that he deserved. Chandler? He was so fucking messed up that it’s a miracle that he is able to even have friends, let alone a boyfriend.
God, Joey thought he didn’t love him.
Chandler started tugging at his hair, enough to cause tears to form at the corners of his eyes.
That was it. Wasn’t it?
And now Joey’s never coming back. Well, he would, because he lived in the apartment, but…
He wouldn’t come back to them.
But…
Chandler loved him. Oh my God, did he love him. If heaven had a face, or at least, like, a concierge that you would meet on the way in, that would be Joey.
But it’s not like Chandler’s going to get into heaven.
Oh, God, he and Joey were just destined not to be together. Why did he have to mess up the only chance he had with Joey? Why couldn’t he be happy with the way things were, late nights watching Baywatch and eating cold pizza and playing foosball?
… It wasn’t enough for Joey. He made that pretty clear.
So then why stay with Chandler? Why put yourself in a doomed position? Chandler always broke people’s hearts. It’s a miracle that Joey’s didn’t break faster.
He just wished it never broke at all.
God, he is such a royal fuck up. He’s a fucking jerk and selfish for keep Joey for as long as he did. Making Joey feel obligated to stay with him not only as a friend for however many years, but a boyfriend for two!
He didn’t deserve any of it. It didn’t deserve any of the happiness that came his way cause the universe was cruel and would always make him mess up one way or another.
He was going to die alone and miserable.
This…
This was it.
He had nothing without Joey. Nothing.
Hopeless, Chandler weakly lifted his head to look at his antidepressants, sitting undisturbed on the counter. That was what started this whole mess. Joey was just trying to fix him, and he couldn’t accept his help.
Maybe that’s the universe telling him that he didn’t deserve help.
Chandler hung his head again. He could last a few days without his medication. He didn’t deserve it--he didn’t deserve feeling happy or good or even okay. No, he deserved to be depressed and lonely and cold and heartbroken until he died.
The Next Week
Joey stood hesitantly outside the door to apartment 19. He wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea to come back, especially now after he practically avoided Chandler at all costs because he was just so angry at the man that he loved ever since that one fight--the only big fight they really ever had.
He just… wanted the man to take care of himself. And somehow it evolved to Joey complaining about the state of their relationship--which, most of his complaints he pulled out of his ass because he was so done with Chandler’s lack of care about himself. He just needed the man to know that he was important. He mattered too. Not just Joey. (Although he can’t say he didn’t like all the fancy dinners and late nights on the couch.)
But Joey ran away. He ran away from his chance to make things immediately right between him and his boyfriend, and now he wasn’t sure if Chandler wanted to be his boyfriend anymore. He… He let them stew in their feelings for a week. Neither of them tried to talk it out.
Was it… over? Truly?
Joey rubbed a hand over his face. No. No, he was not going to let it end just like that. The man in that apartment… he loved him. Madly. Deeply.
He was going to straighten this out.
Ha. Straighten. A bit too late for that.
Shaking his head, Joey got out his key and unlocked the door. “Chandler? You home?” He cautiously took a step inside when he got no answer even though the lights were on.
That’s okay. Cold shoulder. He could deal with that.
“Chan, I wanted to say how sorry I am.” He looked around the empty living room. It seemed devoid of all life, as if Chandler hadn’t been there for the past week. There wasn’t even a jacket on the ground or a recliner reclining. A bad feeling stirred around in Joey’s gut and he made a beeline to Chandler’s room. “Chan?”
The door opened to a sight that made Joey’s eyes widen and heart leap into his throat.
Chandler laid motionlessly in bed, his own eyes open but unfocused, unseeing, red-rimmed, and puffy. His face was devoid of any emotion, the complete opposite of the Chandler Joey knew. He was under mounds and mounds of blankets, so much so that it was a wonder as to why he wasn’t overheating. Angry marks traveled down his face, as if he was scratching it earlier.
Oh, no. This was bad. This was really bad. Chandler explained this to him once: dissociation. He described it as a long, dark spiral where his depression brain and his anxiety brain and all of his brains gang up on his real brain to tell him how horrible of a person he is. Which is why he also needed the boyfriend brain to pull him out.
Without another thought, Joey fell to his knees next to Chandler’s bed, cupping his cheek and stroking it with his thumb. “Hey, hey, baby. I’m right here. I’m going to wait for you right here, yeah? Whenever you feel ready to come back, I need to tell you how sorry I am. But, right now, how about I tell you about my day? I know you like to hear all the juicy details.” He chuckled lightly--stiffly--and placed a kiss on Chandler’s forehead. The man in question still hadn’t looked at him--really looked at him.
Joey bit his lip. He was worried, but Chandler would come back once he felt safe again. And, damn it, Joey was going to try his damndest to show Chandler that he was still safe. That they were still safe.
Chandler blinked heavily, his head fuzzy as if he had just woken up from hibernation. He had half the mind to check to see if it was already spring, but the other half felt like hell, so he was at a stalemate between pain and coherency. He just felt so jumbled and he didn’t know what was going on and fucking great now he was panicking—
“Shh, Chan, I got you.”
God, if it wasn’t the voice of the heavens, blessing him one more time before he left for good.
“I may be dreaming,” Chandler croaked, wincing at the sound of his own voice. “But please—please—stay. Joey, I swear, I’ll do anything—” What a pathetic mess begging his own boyfriend to not leave him alone—
Joey put a finger to his lips. “I’m sorry to break it to you, honey, but I don’t think you’re in the right state of mind to be talking about this right now. Chan, I’ve been here for two hours, trying to get you outta your head.”
Chandler honest to God whimpered. “I’m sorry, you didn’t have to stay for me, you probably had other things—”
“No, no! Chan, that’s not what I mean.” Joey fell silent for a moment, observing the dried tear tracks on Chandler’s face. “Have you been taking your meds?”
Oh God, now Joey was really gonna hate him. Tears already started pouring over. “I—”
“Oh, sweetheart—”
“I know I don’t deserve any of it,” Chandler blurted out. He clung to Joey’s t-shirt from under the covers. “But can I please be selfish just for tonight and ask you to stay and for us to just pretend for tonight that we’re still together?”
“Chandler…” Joey didn’t realize how deep Chandler was cut. “Honey, I’m still your boyfriend. You’re not selfish for wanting me to stay.”
Chandler did not look convinced at all, and Joey sighed. “We had a fight. That’s it. Couples have fights all the time, and they work through it. That’s what we gotta do. Work through it together.”
That just seemed to make Chandler cry harder. “I don’t know if I—if you—I’ll be better! I’ll take my meds, I’ll kiss you awake and hold you close all the time and always tell you I love you—”
“Babe, you already do that!”
“But it’s not enough! That’s what you said.” He buried his face into his pillow. “I promise that I will do anything—anything! God, I miss you and here you are right now and I just want you—”
A passionate kiss on his lips made him shut up, and Chandler let himself get lost in the sensations.
It was a quick kiss. But it meant the world. It meant that… there was still some hope that…
Joey brushed a strand of hair out of Chandler’s face, with such a soft expression that Chandler could have just melted then and there. In a gentle voice, Joey said, “I don’t think either of us are ready to have this conversation yet. I had a crappy day and I think you haven’t slept for the past three nights.”
“Two nights,” Chandler mumbled.
Joey smiled. “But the one thing that I know for certain is that I love you, Chan. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”
Something blossomed in Chandler’s chest, amidst the void of dark and despair. “Yeah?” He asked breathlessly.
“Yeah.”
When his eyes drifted slowly shut to the feeling of Joey’s strong arms around him, he finally identified what that feeling was.
Contentment.