Note: Partly, I needed a break from the angst that comes with writing Only One. Also, I appear to have gathered a fair share of ideas and headcanons about this show; thoughts about the characters and their pasts, moments that I believe should have happened between them, and so on. I thought, maybe instead of compiling a list that the world will never see, maybe I could write small snippets based on these headcanons. Most of them are shamelessly Chandler-centric. I'm still not sure if the world actually is interested, but eh, here comes the first one.

Smutty Chandler/Monica! (Be aware of the M-rating!)

The Art of Teasing

Chandler is an attentive lover.

Honestly, this starts out as plain insecurity because he doesn't want to be a bad lover and he figures, what better way to avoid that than to give, focus and listen? Of course, Monica's heartfelt lesson from back when he had been dating Kathy had helped, a lot, and Chandler had worked on it from there. And he likes it, really really does, watching his lover squirm and moan and completely fall apart from what Chandler is doing to her.

When he and Monica get together, the whole experience is taken to another level (With Monica, everything seems to be taken to another level). Monica is a woman who knows what she wants and she has no problems being verbal about it, guiding him with her enthusiastic responses, and even words ("Oh, oh, lower, more...!") and once he gets to know her reactions better, Chandler learns to distinguish when he can tease and when he can give.

He learns to rile her up until she's quivering, all sweaty pale skin, dark hair splayed over the bedsheets, and it is the best thing that Chandler has ever experienced, the most beautiful and arousing thing in the world.

Keeping both their focus completely on her helps keep him going, too, sweet teasing denial that keeps him away from the edge. In time, Monica learns this too, and uses it to her own devilish, amazing schemes. He knows that she loves having that power over him, and Chandler doesn't really mind submitting to her wishes and ideas. Every time is like this fantastic privilege, that he gets to do this with her, getting to feel and see her like this.

He is so tantalizingly close, a few touches away from orgasm as he watches Monica buckle and moan under him, pushing herself down on his fingers and Chandler kisses her cheek and neck and her mouth as she comes undone.

It takes a few moments, but when she comes back up from her pleasure, Chandler feels weak because she has got that look. Satisfied, pleased and altogether playful.

"That was, nice," she says to him, running her hands over his back.

"Just, nice?" Chandler breath hitches as he tries to affect causal. "I must be loosing my touch."

She laughs, pleased, her 'you're so cute'-laugh, letting her hands run lower, towards his hips and seriously, she's killing him.

"I, uh." His thoughts are jumbled. "Whatever you're thinking of doing, please do it faster?" Her hands are on him now, just feather-light touches teasing his cock just so. He may or may not let out a very unmanly whimper. "Because I really can't take it much longer."

She withdraws her hand, challengingly. "Say that again."

"Wh-what?" He's dying, and she thinks this is funny? "Please?"

Monica pushes herself up on her elbows and Chandler leans to the side reluctantly to make room for her. "Again," she whispers into his ear, moving over him until Chandler is lying on his back and his brain isn't quite sure what is going on anymore. Her hand moves directly to his cock again, caressing lightly.

The hell with pride. "Please," Chandler mumbles, arching his hips into her touch. "Monica, sweetheart, love of my life. Please."

"You're not taking this seriously." She keeps running her hand up and down his length, giving just a little less than the required amount of pressure.

"I've. Uh. Never been more serious." He pauses and says, in a softer voice. "Please?"

She kisses his cheek sweetly. Her hand tightens just so, and she speeds up and Chandler may or may not see stars as he comes, hard, over Monica's arm and hand and his own stomach. He lies there for a moment, his mind working itself out of the gray haze that seems to have overtaken it.

"We are way too good at this," Chandler says finally, staring at the ceiling as it comes into focus again. He hears Monica let out a breath of air that sounds sort of like a laugh, and he moves his head to look at her. They grin stupidly at each other for a moment, until Monica suddenly makes a face and wipes her hand off on his bare stomach.

He grimaces, glancing down at himself. The downside of not having had a condom available; sex is even messier than usual. He reaches over the bed to grab a tissue, offering one to Monica and using another to clean himself off. He and Monica toss their tissues simultaneously towards the trash can, both hitting their target. They grin again, stupidly. They've been grinning a lot since they hooked up that first time, in London.

"Seriously, though," Chandler says, stretching out his arm, offering her to cuddle up against him. She does so with a surprising familiarity, considering that they've only been doing this for a couple of weeks. "I mean what I said. I may be the best, but that's only because you make me."

Monica pinches the tender skin below his nipple; he yelps and tries to move away but her weight on his arm keeps him put.

"Can we drop this subject now?" she says, rolling her eyes.

"I like this subject," he protests, and tries to squirm away again when she reaches out, threatening to pinch him again. "Dropping the subject!"

"Smart man." Monica rests her head on his arm, smiling at him sweetly, and Chandler can't help but smile back, even as his stomach is doing small flip-flops.

It is too early to consider love; but, he thinks, sometimes it is difficult not to.

end