Work Text:
When Monica saw the size of your kitchen she patted you on the back with sympathy. It was a few rows of tiny cabinets, an old electric oven and a steel sink. The fridge was pathetic and the little wooden table with two battered chairs didn’t exactly say “welcome home”. This was mainly due to the fact that you hadn’t landed a stable income yet, getting cheques here and there for the odd design or advertisement. You knew that getting nicer furniture would definitely take a few more months of saving. You were so grateful when Monica offered up her kitchen so that you could make a comfort dish that would be harder to manage in your miniscule preparation area. Of course, there were a few laminated sheets of paper detailing the rules of her kitchen, the neat freak in her just had to get out somehow.
When you unlocked the door to the apartment, it was peaceful and quiet. It made you laugh to think of all the crazy things that had taken place in somewhere that was now so quiet. You placed the highly detailed instructions on to the counter as you began taking out pots and pans. You dumped a large bag of ingredients on to the table and pulled your hair into a large grip to keep it from getting in your way. After grating, slicing and stressing out about the different times to put things in the oven, you noticed that the silence was a bit too peaceful. So, you switched the Radio on. You weren’t aware that outside on the balcony, sitting on a fold out plastic chair, Chandler was smoking after a short day at the office. He realised that you were in the kitchen and was stressing out about you being there alone. Joey and Ross had been trying to get him to finally confess his ever-growing feelings towards you. It had been months of slightly awkward but still endearing moments, him talking to the guys about you like it was high school and getting flustered when you come down in just a towel, asking to borrow his moisturiser. He was only able to get out a few syllables when you did that. It was harder for the two of you because you both liked each other. Which was something that Chandler found hard to believe. He began to overthink everything he did around you, worried that his feelings might slip through and ruin the friendship that had grown, not only between the two of you, but also the whole group. He thought about how awkward it would be with you living upstairs, staying away because he opened his mouth and shot himself in the foot. Rejection was hard already; it was even harder when it was living right above you.
So, he just sat and waited. Stress-smoking and calling himself an idiot for not announcing himself when you walked in. The music stopped and the DJ buzzed on about some random thing that you weren’t listening to. You hummed as you slid a few trays in the oven, a pot on the stove slowly simmered as you stirred it from time to time. “And next up we have Madonna! “Like a virgin” a classic 80s hit!” the DJ announced with that classic radio DJ pronunciation. It was a guilty pleasure song. A song that you pretended not to know all the words to. But, to your knowledge, there was nobody that could make fun of you. Hell, you could even dance along. So, you did exactly that. Miming the lyrics as you danced around the apartment. Spinning, laying against the back of the sofa and then continuing as if you were in a music video. Chandler was sat out there, slightly embarrassed because he was not supposed to be witnessing this, but also enjoying the performance that you were giving. Singing with a wooden spoon as a microphone and dancing on the sofa, unaware of him being there, kicking himself. As you danced you did a slight turn to the window, just a mindless look, not expecting to see the guy that you had grown quite an unmistakable attraction to. He jumped in the air and hit the ground as an attempt to hide. You couldn’t believe what was happening. Chandler had just seen you dance like nobody was watching. Because you didn’t think anyone was watching, but there he was, hiding in a ball on the floor as you stomped over to the window and climbed out on to where Chandler was cowering. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he yelled from behind his hands. You hit him with the wooden spoon that was now appearing to have several uses. “I can’t believe this! Why?! Why didn’t you…WHY?!” you yelled. Your face was now red as you realised, he had seen you bending into all kinds of positions for your make-believe music video. “Look, I’m sorry! I just didn’t want to… b-bother you! That’s it! That’s why I didn’t come in!” you could see that he was lying. You could see it so clearly. You jumped up and down as you yelled some more. You had never felt so embarrassed. After a few seconds of just standing there in shock, you put your hand out to help him up off the ground, he took it gratefully as you tried not to look at him out the pure unbridled self-consciousness that was burning through your body. “I know you’re lying, Bing.” You sighed. He paused with that look he had when he knew he’d been caught out. “Look, I just didn’t want to bother you. I-I know that you don’t like to be disturbed when you’re cooking.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his rushed lie. “Please just tell me. And tell me that you didn’t see me fall off the sofa.” You grabbed him by the tie as you said this, trying to emphasise what you were saying. But it seemed to have the opposite effect. He was now gazing at you, red in his cheeks and a look of bewilderment in his eyes. You couldn’t help but stare as well now. “Look, I-I just… Okay. You really want to know?” you nodded, not wanting to say anything that would change his mind. “Well…you see…” you slowly let go of him as he began to stutter. “Just fucking tell me!” you whined. He straightened himself out before rubbing his brow. “Okay! Okay! Maybe, and I mean MAYBE, I possibly, hypothetically, can’t stop thinking about you. All I do is wonder how you are, what you are doing, would you ever care about me in this soul-crushing, head over heels, smacked with a wooden spoon way that I care about you? Or maybe I’m just some crazy guy who is just flat out insane for thinking I have even the slightest chance of being with you.” He smacked his hands against his face, once again hiding from you. You were speechless, unable of knowing what to say to him. So, you didn’t. You slowly moved his hands from his face, your eyes stayed glued to his, slowly you gently planted your lips on to his. He eased into you, moving his hands to your jaw, softly touching you. You pushed away from each other suddenly, shocked at each other but with no regret for what you had done. “Well, I’ve never done that with you before.” Classic emotional deflection but it meant something to you. You smirked a little and sighed. “I like you too.” After you said this is was like your heart had burst from how fast it was beating. “So, what do we do now?” he asked. You stop to think before blurting out, “We could…make out again?” which made him just shout. “YES…I mean okay!” so you did.