You and Joey are… step-siblings. You had a love/hate relationship with him, and you had to move in with him for a few weeks because your parents had kicked you out for spending more than your allowance. He gladly let you stay with him, but he took away most of your privileges as a joke, he made you order him pizza most nights, and he didn’t let you out of his sight most days- what’s wrong with that? It’s not my fault he’s protective of his baby step-sister (you’re not literally a baby, you’re 21, and he’s 32).

It was morning, and he was sat at the island on the edge stool, wearing a black and white plaid robe, a white shirt and grey sweats, sipping on a glass of beer, Chandler was over, standing on the opposite side of the island, sipping on a cup of coffee, they were both watching the tv from afar.

The noise pissed you off, so you got up, and walked over to the door of the room you slept in, opened it and stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, your hair was frizzy and dishevelled from tossing and turning, your glasses had been put on in a rut and the silk robe you wore hung off one of your shoulders, revealing a lacy bra strap, and the slit in the bottom of the robe revealed a smooth leg draped with a black stocking that went up to your mid-thigh. You spoke, looking at the two of them with judgy, half-squinted eyes and pursed lips.

“What the hell is that noise, Joey? And Chandler! What are you doing here so early?!”

Joey’s gaze softened and he rapidly blinked, his throat feeling dry at the sight of you, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed cautiously. Chandler looked at you with that signature judgy expression, he hardly liked like he was judging you, but you knew everyone all too well, before they both answered at the same time.

Both: “What does it look like?!”