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You nearly burn a hole in Monica’s chair closest to the television with how excited you are. You can’t contain your excitement once Joey tells them what he’s planned for your birthday.
Chandler offers a thumbs up to Joey, which boosts the latter's decision (knowing that this was his idea to reveal his feelings for you).
Monica pulls Ross, Rachel and Phoebe into the kitchen.
Joey runs across the hall to grab the main dish Monica stuffed in his fridge since she has no room.
The witty one of the group asks to see the tickets since his friend never showed him. He didn’t know which show he was taking you to and he was curious. He leans over and tilts his head to read the tickets. “Huh,” Chandler tilts his head.
“What?” You ask, your pep on pause.
He lifts his head with raised brows. “Uh- well, I just- I find it a bit ironic.”
“What's ironic?”
He lets out a nervous chuckle. “Well, you know, Joe doesn't like musicals and yet, he got you tickets to your favorite one.”
“Well,” you nervously smile. “I mean, didn't he do that one-”
He shakes his head. “Said he hated it and never wanted to do it, see, or hear one again.”
“Oh.”
Chandler's eyes widen at your deflated expression. “But- but,” he over enunciates. “He- he got them because he likes yours, yeah?”
He jumps off the couch and sits on the arm of the chair, hugging you. “Please don’t cry. Forget I said it. I didn’t say that, right? Because I’m not a horrible person who ruins a very nice and very thoughtful gift.”
You lean into him, a somber smile tugging at your lips. “You didn’t ruin anything, Chan.”
“Really?” He pulls back, glancing down at you. “Cause it feels like I did.”
You shake your head, fighting the thoughts running through your mind once you see his sad expression. “Nope.”
“What’s this?”
You jump, surprised at Joey standing there. “What’s- uh- what’s going on here?”
“Dog pile?” Chandler weakly offers.
“For what?” The Italian crosses his arms.
“To keep her from wearing a hole in Mon’s favorite seat.”
“Okay,” he shrugs.
You think you're in the clear until you giggle at the extra weight from Joey taking up the other arm of the chair.
“Guys no,” Monica cries out. “You’re going to break it and you break it, you buy it.”
“I part own it,” Chandler responds.
“Yeah, well, damnit you’re right.”
You chuckle and lean into Joey without fully realizing it even after Chandler left.
Or at least until he slid down and told you to sit on his lap. “Joey, I'm not going to sit on your lap.”
“Why not?”
You roll your eyes. “You want me to sit on your lap. Are you not worried someone would say something?"
He shrugs, “no. I'd let Chandler sit on my lap.”
“Chandler's sit on lap worthy-”
“So are you. Maybe a little more.”
You pause and stare at him for a few seconds before moving and adjusting yourself into the new position.
-
No one said anything and Monica filled a container for you and Joey to take home (knowing your schedule was packed especially with you most likely forgetting to eat since you're going to the musical).
You set the container on the counter. “Are you sure it's okay for me to stay here?”
He nods with a big smile. “Obviously. I don't just offer up my place to anyone.”
You glance at him from the corner of your eye with raised brows.
“Anymore. I don't do it anymore.”
“Oh?” You look down and fiddle with the tin foil. “Why not?”
He shrugs. “Just cause.”
You missed the longing look he stares at you with.
“Oh, okay.”
-
You two enjoyed your time, you more so. It was so fun even when Joey joined in with you at your favorite songs.
Joey wraps an arm around your waist to help you up the stairs.
“I regret wearing these shoes.”
“I thought you said they went perfect with your outfit?”
You sigh, leaning against the wall as he pulls out his keys. “I do but, my god. We walked nearly half a block and my feet feel like they’re bleeding.”
“I told you we wouldn’t be able to find a cab.”
You click your tongue and roll your eyes. “You’re not helping me here, Joey.”
“I didn’t say I’d be helping you. I made a comment.”
“Well,” you cross your arms. “I don’t like it.”
“You look like you’re going to pass out.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s get you into bed.”
You pout, “I have to take off my makeup and shoes and do my hair-”
“Let me help you, alright?”
You sit down on your bed, bouncing with it. “Okay. I mean, are you sure? Can you-”
“You forget I have seven sisters.”
You sleepily smile at him. “Right.”
“I’ll be right back, okay?”
You nod, rubbing your eye.
He comes back, finding you sitting up with your eyes closed and jerking awake as you almost stumble forward. “Come on,” he mumbles, scooting your back. “Your make up wipes.”
You grab them and start wiping your face, pausing as you feel your feet move. “Oh, Joey, honey. You don’t need to do that.”
He chuckles, “I got it. It’s not a problem. Work on taking off your makeup.”
You pout and do as he told you.
He sets your shoes to the side and takes the used makeup wipes to throw away. “I’m gonna throw these away and by the time I get back, I want to see you in pajamas.”
You giggle, delirious from your lack of sleep. “You just want to see me naked.”
“Not even close.” He hands you your pajamas you had picked out before leaving. “I’m trusting you to take care of yourself with this task.”
You manage to put your pants on but get tangled in your long sleeve.
“Oh, god. Come here, baby.” He helps pull your head out of the sleeve and adjusts it so you’re not lost.
“Thank you,” you mumble before crawling into bed with his help.
He pulls your sheets and comforter up to cover your arms, knowing you get cold at night. He lingers for a minute before placing a kiss on top of your head.
-
He slowly tip toes out, gently closing the door behind him only to find a smug Chandler sitting at the counter. “You hungry, Joe?” He scoots a bowl closer towards the other seat he set beside him. “Come on, let’s chat, shall we?”
The Italian rolls his eyes. “I don’t want to talk but I will take that bowl of cereal.”
The sarcastic one scoots the bowl closer towards himself. “You don’t talk, you don’t get cereal.”
“I wonder how Monica would react to you having my hand up your-”
“Bah!” Chandler frowns, passing the other bowl to his friend. “That was just mean. Plain, mean.”
Joey chuckles, bumping his shoulder against his friends.
“Alright, now will you tell me what happened? I mean,” the sarcastic man shoves a spoonful of cereal in his mouth. “You don’t even like musicals. What changed?”
He smirks at the sight of his friend hunched over, trying to act incognito. “Oh, oh. I should have asked, who changed your mind?”
Joey rolls his eyes. “Nothing and nobody changed my mind. She wanted to go and… I knew all the words so I figured why not.”
“Why not, huh. Okay.” Chandler smugly smiles as he continues eating his cereal. “If that’s what you say.”
“It is what I say.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to sleep.” Joey sets the empty bowl in the sink and rushes towards his room.
“How much of that did you hear?” Chandler asks, spinning around to spot you, standing there, tugging at your sleeves. “I- not much.”
“You and him are terrible liars.”
“I am not lying.”
“And my last name isn’t Bong on my TV catalogue.”
You roll your eyes and go back to bed.
“I’ll be here all night,” Chandler says before closing his eyes and laughing.