Breathing heavily, I clutch Chandler to me, his body pressing me into the mattress. I never imagined that sex with him would be this good, this…powerful, but as my body starts to shake, I know that something about being with his is very, very different.

I take deep breaths, hoping to steady myself, hoping he either won't notice my body vibrating, or, since this has happened every time with him, he'll think it's just a thing of mine—

"You okay?" He whispers, pressing a kiss to my neck, then to my clavicle, then to hollow of my throat.

Yeah; good luck thinking clearly right now, Mon.

"I'm fine."

"You're shaking."

I move the damp hair off of his forehead and press a kiss there. "Yeah, well, that happens, I guess."

Damn it, I wish my body would calm down.

"Is this a…a thing of yours?"

I also wish he didn't sound so adorable when he asks me questions like that. But because my mind is so jumbled right now, I answer him honestly. "No, this is a new thing." I cringe slightly; it has to be a mistake to tell him that.

Instead, he pulls his face back so he can look me in the eyes, and the awe I can see in his face nearly melts me. "I make you shake?"

"Apparently."

"That's amazing," he breathes as he smoothes the hair away from my face and kisses me gently.

His reaction does nothing to calm my traitorous body, but at least it doesn't seem like he's going to gloat about it. I have to give him credit for that, too, because I think most guys would be hard-pressed not preen at least a little bit after finding out they can cause that kind of reaction in a girl.

I'm not really sure why I'm trembling so violently, either, other than sex with Chandler is like nothing I've ever felt before. And it's not just that he's hitting my hotspots, though that part is pretty fantastic. He's so sweet, and tender, and caring, and—dare I say it?—loving that I just don't know how to take it. He's simultaneously completely different and incredibly familiar; I should feel awkward doing this with him, but…I don't know…this feels like the natural next step. It feels right, as if all of the years we've known each other have been building up to this, as if we were inevitable.

Still, as easy as it would be to chalk my body's reaction up to jet lag the maybe five hours of sleep I've gotten in the last two days, it has to be Chandler—sweet, goofy, amazing Chandler.

Seriously—who knew?

I guess I'll just have to live with feeling…unsteady after sex from now on.

"You know, Monica," Chandler finally says, punctuating every few words with another kiss, "you do things to me, too."

This I have to hear. "Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"I've never had this sort of endurance before. But I think about not having sex with you as the alternative, and I'm suddenly ready to go again."

"Gee, that's…sweet?"

"All right, so maybe it's not the best example, but it's still the truth. With you, I want it more than I've ever wanted it before."

I gently stroke his cheek and smile. "I'm so glad you're still on London time."

He looks at me so tenderly that I think my heart breaks just a little, and I can't help but wonder what I did to deserve to have someone look at me like that. "Do you know how scared I was, walking back in to this apartment? The thought of you turning me away was just…"

"I know. I hated the thought of London being it for us. I don't think I want to go back to being just your friend."

He presses his lips to mine once more. I feel myself relax into him a bit more, the weight of his body on mine comforting, and my eyes start to grow heavy.

"Hey now, what's with that?" Chandler teases, gently skimming his hand down my side, down to my thigh, and back up.

"Sorry, " I answer, stifling a yawn. "I've gotten almost no sleep the last couple of days; I think it's starting to catch up with me."

"Do you want me to go?"

My eyes fly open; his voice sounds so sad and so hopeful at the same time that all I want to do is reassure him. So I do just that. I tighten my arms and legs around him, keeping him as close as possible. "The farthest I'm allowing you to go for the rest o f the night is the kitchen or the bathroom. Other than that, I want you right here with me. What if I wake up in a few hours in need?"

Chandler sighs with fake resignation. "Well, the last thing I want is for you to be deprived. So, if you insist, I'll stay."

I kiss the tip of his nose happily. "I insist."

We take a few moments to shift into a more comfortable sleeping position—now we're side by side, facing each other, our limbs still tangled so that we can keep each other as close as possible, our heads sharing a pillow.

Even though my body is begging for sleep, I fight it for a while, reluctant to close my eyes. I can see Chandler fighting it, too. Neither of us say anything, we just look at each other in wonder, and I can see in his eyes what I'm pretty sure he can see in mine.

Happiness.

*A/N…apparently, I like to lie to myself. I thought these were all going to be little one-shots (actually, I thought I was going to write one little ficlet and be done with it, so I'm a huge liar), and that each story would pretty much stand on its own, which I feel they do. But then this little bastard showed up, and I felt it worked better with, "With A Friend" then just hanging out on its own. So…yeah.