Chandler can still feel the waves even as he's lying on the beach, a safe distance from the shoreline. Every so often the warm tide laps at his feet, and he pulls them back onto the towel beneath him. Joey's at his side, underneath the giant umbrella that hours ago shielded them from the sun. Joey reaches over Chandler to grab another beer out of the cooler.

"Am I in your way?" Chandler snaps.

"Yeah, a little. Maybe I ought'a man the cooler. I've been tryin' to get you to hand me a beer for, like, five minutes." Chandler rolls his eyes at the exaggeration, and Joey pops open the can and takes a long gulp. He wipes the foamy trail of froth from his chin; Chandler squeezes his thighs together and slides his feet into the sand. That should not be arousing, goddamn it.

While Joey stares up at the star-speckled sky, oblivious to the world, Chandler tosses a glance his way; there's two can-shaped holes in the sand between them where they've been sticking their beer cans, and, wow, Joey's forearms are really defined. Chandler wets his lips, tries not to think about those arms pinning him down. A tight pull in his cock makes his thighs shift and squeeze again for some sort of friction.

"You alright?" Joey asks, looking over at him. "Did somethin' bite ya?"

Chandler chuckles under his breath, because the urge to make a joke about how Joey could bite him anytime is near irresistable. "No, I—I was just thinking... Would you ever go out with me?" He frames it as a joke, his mouth pulled into a quirky half-smile.

"'Course, we go out all the time."

"No, I mean as a couple. Together. Like Ross and Rachel. Or Ross and Bonnie. Who is he dating right now?" Chandler wonders in an attempt to distract Joey from his idiotic musings.

"You're askin' me if I would date you?" Joey sounds insulted by this, like he's way out of Chandler's league and he knows it.

Chandler begins immediately back-pedaling. "I mean, theoretically, y'know, if you were into guys." He's just implied that he's into guys himself, but, fuck it, it's not like everyone they know doesn't secretly assume that anyway.

Joey just laughs and shakes his head. "Chandler..."

"What? Am I not attractive to gay guys?"

"I'm not gay."

"I know that! But if you were—" Chandler stops himself from spewing out more word-vomit. "Never mind." He stares up at the night sky, wishing he could punch himself in the face for screwing this up. Out of his peripheral vision, Chandler can see Joey staring at him, which only makes his embarrassment more obvious. His face feels like an oven.

"I dunno, maybe," Joey says, like he's been thinking about it. "I mean, we like a lot of the same stuff, and we already know each other really well. So maybe it'd be like what we already have, just with kissing—and sex."

Chandler swallows thickly at the thought of having sex with Joey. His legs twined around Joey's waist, Joey's mouth covering his own as they move together, his fingers dragging down Joey's back... A shiver trails up Chandler's spine that makes him twitch involuntarily.

"You get bit again?" Joey asks.

"Yeah, damn mosquitos."

Joey takes another swig of beer. "They haven't bit me."

The tide rises up and sloshes at Chandler's feet again; he doesn't bother drawing back this time, enjoying the warmth of the water. "Hey, what do you think it'd be like?" he starts after a moment, because he doesn't know how to have a conversation that isn't awkward and embarrassing. "I mean, you've only ever had sex with women, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So, if you were with, well, let's say, me, for the purpose of this conversation, how do you know you'd be any good?"

Joey actually laughs at that. "I know my way around the equipment."

"Yours, maybe." And now Chandler's thinking about Joey jerking off. As if he needed any more erection fuel tonight.

"I think the basic rules still apply." Chandler scoffs a little, and Joey leans in closer, because he doesn't believe in concepts like personal space around Chandler. "Why don't we practice? I can try stuff out on you, and you can tell me if I'm any good or not."

Chandler's eyes go wide, and he squeaks out, "What?" in an impossibly tiny voice.

"Maybe I need all the help I can get! You could teach me stuff!"

"Why does it have to be me?"

"'Cause you're the one who brought it up—unless you think Ross would let me do it?" They share a laugh at the idea of Ross being comfortable with something like this. Joey's got a flirtatious half-smile on his lips when he says, "C'mon, Chandler, be a pal."

Chandler doesn't want to seem too eager about this, so he plays it cool and shrugs his shoulders. "Alright, fine. Let's get back inside, and we can—"

"Why can't we just do it here?"

Chandler just stares at him and gestures to the expanse of the beach. "Uh, hello?"

"Nobody's out here. And even if somebody was, we got this." Joey gestures to the umbrella fanned out behind them. "And it's dark out."

"This is becoming way more romantic than I was hoping for," Chandler gripes, but on the inside this is hitting every single one of his secret kinks.

"Yeah, it kinda is." Joey grins at him, then his expression softens. "You want me to kiss you first?"

Chandler's first instinct is to shout "yes!", but he manages to keep his urges in check. "If—if you want." Joey sits up and moves a little closer. Chandler rises up to meet him, and they stare at each other for a moment before Joey closes his eyes and presses his mouth to Chandler's. Chandler's heart stutters in his chest, and he just holds his mouth there because he's not sure how far Joey's going to go with this, and he doesn't want to fuck this up by getting too into it.

Joey tilts his head, kisses him a little harder before sucking at the corner of his mouth. Chandler lets out a quiet gasp that Joey must have heard, because he chuckles and actually pulls back in inch or so. "You squeaked," he says with a grin.

"I—I—no! That wasn't a squeak! That was nowhere near squeak territory!"

"Well, whatever, it was cute." Joey cups Chandler's jaw and brings him in for another kiss before Chandler can answer. His hand slides to the back of Chandler's head, fingers curling in his hair. Chandler can't help but moan around his mouth, because Joey is a fucking amazing kisser, and the slight scrape of stubble against his chin is foreign bliss that makes his skin tighten. He reaches up, lays his hands on Joey's shoulders, and Joey pushes forward until Chandler's back flops onto the towel and the sand beneath it. Chandler's legs snake around Joey's waist. Joey strokes a hand over Chandler's knee and slides it up the leg of his swim shorts while their mouths break apart and reconvene. Chandler gasps around Joey's lips when he feels the heat of his palm gliding over his thigh. He ruts his hips forward, desperate for some friction.

"Whoa." Joey breaks away and settles between Chandler's legs, staring down at him in a way Chandler can't decode. He does, however, notice their positions, and he figures the intensity of their little make-out/groping session has hit Joey like a two-by-four to the solar plexus. Joey wets his lips, looks down. "You're, uh, you're hard already?"

Those were not the next words Chandler was expecting to hear. His face heats up in chagrin as he sits up to hide his arousal. "Y—yeah, I'm sorry. It's just been a while since..." Chandler doesn't want to admit that the way Joey touches and kisses him stokes a fire in his veins unmatched by anyone he's ever been with. "Maybe we should just skip to the sex stuff?"

Joey frowns—is he disappointed?—before moving to stand up. "Okay, lemme just get a condom from Ross, and we can—"

Chandler grabs Joey's arm to stop him. "Wait, what? How are you going to get a condom without also getting an interrogation about why you need a condom?"

Joey shrugs. "I dunno, I'll just make somethin' up."

Chandler tugs harder on his arm. "Uh, no, you're not doing that. I don't trust you. There's only four women here, and Ross will be pissed off if you have sex with any of them."

"Then I'll just tell him we're usin' it."

Chandler makes a face like he's horrified by the idea. "I think Ross would just refuse to give it to you out of spite."

"Alright, forget the condom." Joey sits down. "We can still do stuff." He thinks for a moment, then looks meaningfully at the cooler.

"No, you are not putting beer in my ass, and, oh my God, I can't believe I actually had to say those words to another living, breathing human being. Kill me now."

Joey rolls his eyes, like that was a great idea and Chandler just doesn't appreciate his creativity. "Okay, fine, so I can't put my dick in you. Whatever, I can still get you off."

Chandler smiles, coy and teasing. "I don't think so."

"Chandler, I got you hard just by kissin' you. I think I can do this."

Chandler frowns at the amount of truth in that statement. "Alright, prove it."

Joey doesn't need any more convincing. He moves closer and kisses Chandler again, but this time it's harder, fierce, like Chandler's teasing struck a nerve. He licks his way inside of his mouth, and Chandler makes a muffled sound of surprise as he falls back, lets Joey crawl on top of him. Joey's hands push at the elastic of Chandler's shorts and shove them down his thighs. Chandler kicks the shorts off so he can spread his legs wider, because he just gets the urge to open wide and inviting when Joey's this close. Joey drags the heat of his palm along the inside of Chandler's thigh and over the jutting peak of his hip bone. Chandler squirms and hooks one leg around Joey's waist, squirms again when Joey grabs his dick and tugs. He makes a whimpering noise and bites his lips together.

Joey chuckles, kissing the thin line of Chandler's mouth. "Still don't think I can make you come?"

Chandler wants to say something about how Joey already has—many, many times—but he's still not sure if Joey's only doing this to prove a point. Instead he just rocks his hips into Joey's fist and says, "Y—yeah, that's—that's gonna happen."

Joey rubs his thumb over the underside of Chandler's cock, and, oh, sweet Jesus, that's good. Chandler chokes out a desperate sound, his chest shuddering with the weight of it. He digs his fingers into the muscles of Joey's arms, needing something to cling to that won't break. His dick's dribbling pre-cum at the tip, and Joey smears it over his fingers before he lets go. Chandler opens his mouth to say something, but it's all subsumed into a gasp when Joey's fingers push inside of him. "Oh fuck," he whines out, as Joey sits up and tugs Chandler's hips up the incline of his thighs with his free hand. Joey presses in again, and the new angle makes Chandler moan and shove into Joey's hand, needing so much more than just two fingertips. "Oh, God, Joe, I'm"—Joey curls his fingers, and Chandler yelps, his cock tight against his belly. It's taking all he has right now not to reach down and jerk himself off to completion, because his dick is so hard it kind of hurts.

Joey draws his fingers out, slow and gentle, rubbing at his entrance in a way that makes Chandler moan lazily into the night air. It's soft and slow, just enough sensation to feel good but not tip over the line into "too much," and Chandler settles into the towel-covered sand, lets himself relax as Joey strokes over him. He feels a hand slide under his ass, lifting his hips a little, but Chandler doesn't pay too much attention to it until he feels something hot and slippery alongside Joey's fingers, and—holy fucking hell, that's his tongue.

Chandler gasps out something that might be "ohfuckohfuckohgodJoe"—he's not really sure because all he can focus on is Joey's tongue inside of him, licking him open and stroking and rubbing, and, sweet skateboarding Christ, it's so much better than any sex he's ever had in his entire life. Chandler's whimpering out shuddery fragments of words, because the heat of Joey's breath, the faint scrape of stubble, and the wet stab of his tongue down there have destroyed his ability to speak coherently. Joey laps at his opening, tongue dragging up, then down, up again, down, over and over. Chandler curls his toes, sobs out, "Joe, please..." and that's when Joey's tongue slides in deep between his fingers, and Chandler's fucking gone, hands slapped over his mouth to trap his moans. He comes like it's his first time in years, splattering thick stripes over his shirt and in Joey's hair; some of it drips down where Joey's mouth is still lapping, and Joey flicks his tongue out to taste it. Chandler just sighs, his chest heaving from sobs and exertion. He thinks he may have actually died.

Joey's sucking kisses into the skin of Chandler's inner thighs, and Chandler doesn't even care that he'll have irrefutable evidence of tonight on his body. "Oh my God," he groans when he's able to make words again. The stars look like they're swirling dizzily in the sky. "No wonder I can hear whenever you bring a date home. Jesus Christ."

Joey chuckles and lets Chandler's hips sink down onto the towel beneath them. "Best sex you've ever had, huh?"

"Probably the best sex I'll ever have in my entire life." Chandler takes a moment to reflect on this. "God, that's really sad. I give up. I'm done. Just give me my shorts and leave me here. I don't wanna be naked when I wash up on shore somewhere miles away." He reaches out blindly, and Joey hands him his swim trunks.

Chandler still refuses to move beyond the necessary motions to pull his shorts on. His whole body is loose and shuddery-good right now. Joey takes a swig from his now-warm beer and stares out at the ocean thoughtfully. Chandler tips his head to watch the tranquil waves sloshing at the shoreline.

The first time he has sex on the beach and it's with Joey; he doesn't know whether to laugh or cry about this.

Joey prods at the silence after a moment. "Y'know what you were talkin' about earlier? The whole dating thing?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe we ought'a try it? We just learned the sex is gonna be great, and we're so close already it's like, why not?"

Chandler pushes himself up on his elbows so he can see Joey's face, because he doesn't believe this isn't a huge joke at his expense. But Joey looks deathly serious. Chandler feels a flail—panic? elation?—in his chest. "You—you actually wanna go out with me? Me? And you? Together?"

Something about Chandler's expression make Joey second-guess himself. "I just thought since it was so easy for me to"—he gestures vaguely to Chandler in a way that's supposed to represent their earlier, uh, activities—"that maybe we might have somethin' here. Was it...was it not easy for you?"

"You were there, Joe. You know it was," Chandler admits. "I guess... I wouldn't mind it happening again."

"Really?" Joey's grinning in that way of his when he sees an especially provocative commercial for hamburgers or fried chicken. Chandler ranks right up there with food; he's pretty proud of himself.

"You're voluntarily asking for this?" Chandler sits up, cycling through various stunned facial expressions. "We're not the last people on earth in some sort of post-apocalyptic wasteland?"

Joey laughs and crawls closer, pressing his mouth over Chandler's to shut him up. Chandler moans around his lips and digs his fingers into Joey's hair. "I wanna go out with you, Chandler," Joey murmurs before sucking at Chandler's lower lip. "I wanna be your boyfriend."

Chandler laughs nervously; never in a million years would he have guessed he'd actually have a boyfriend. "Man, am I proving my entire high school right today or what?" Joey kisses him again, and Chandler rejoices that he's not wasting time asking if they'll break apart like Ross and Rachel did, that he just knows they can endure anything. For once, Chandler's grateful for Joey's faith in the impossible.

When Joey breaks away to speak again, he's smiling at Chandler like a kid on Christmas morning, and Chandler finally gets it. "When we get home, I'm gonna take you out on a date. Anywhere you wanna go, even one of those really fancy restaurants with the famous chickens."

"You really think we can pull off this whole first-date thing after you've had your tongue in my ass?"

"I've done it before," Joey says, like it's nothing.

"You told me she took you out."

Joey shrugs, says, "Still counts," and drags Chandler in for another kiss.