A/N: Previously posted on Livejournal; moved for convenience. Based off a series of 3 comics on tumblr (user deactivated, so sadly I can't credit).
Santana felt claustrophobic. The hotel room was much too small to hold any seven people, let alone if one of those people was Rachel Berry (whose insanely large ego took up physical space that actually more than made up for her lack of height), and if another was Lauren Zizes. Of course, there were now eight people contained in one small room meant for no more than three or four, because that walking stereotype Hummel had snuck into the girls' room and was now engaging in a heated debate with the dwarf over some dumb musical theatre thing or another.
"No way. Cats was a much more iconic musical than Phantom."
"Are you serious? Find one person who's never heard of Phantom. Just try. It's not possible. Cats, on the other hand-"
They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Tina stood up from where she'd been sitting, doing Mercedes's hair, and opened it. Mr. Schue was standing in the hallway with a grim look on his butt-chinned face.
Kurt sighed. "Alright, fine, Mr. Schue, I'll go back to the boys' room."
Mr. Schue quickly corrected, "No, Kurt, actually, you can stay here. I need to talk with Santana for a minute."
Santana was startled at the sound of her name but got up off the bed and walked across the stubbly hotel carpet towards the door.
"Um, there's no easy way to say this," the teacher mumbled, "but you're going to have to switch rooms."
For a moment Santana was blindsided by the fantasy of having her own room, with her own shower, and didn't understand the meaning behind the words. "My own room? How?"
"Well, not actually your own room. We can only afford two rooms, so," Mr. Schue grimaced. "You'll have to share a room with the boys."
"What? Is this some sort of joke? Because to be honest, I'd rather sleep on the floor in this tiny, overstuffed room, than in the other room with those mentally challenged nitwits. What the hell is this about?"
Mr. Schue looked at the ground, and back up again. "We have to separate the rooms by sexual orientation. But since we've only got two, we've got to make do with everyone who likes boys in one room, everyone who likes girls in the other. It's not ideal, but it's our only option. Kurt, you don't mind switching with Santana, right?"
Kurt's eyes were wide. "Mr. Schue, I must admit, though I may have accused you of not being accepting in the past, this does seem out of character for you. While I do enjoy socializing with the girls, the notion that because of my sexuality I–or Santana–would do anything like what you're implying just because of sleeping in the same room with people of the gender we happen to be attracted to is both preposterous and incredibly homophobic."
"Hold up." Santana was still processing the huge load of BS that Mr. Schue had just dropped. "I'm not ga-"
"Don't even bother, Santana, we all know." Quinn interrupted her. "But none of us mind. I agree with Kurt, this is ridiculous."
"Guys!" Mr. Schue called, trying to get control of the situation. "I think it's just as stupid as you do. But this wasn't my idea." He held up a paper booklet that read Show Choir National Championships 2011 Rules and Regulations. "It says in there that we have to separate ourselves like this or we could be disqualified. Apparently in past years there have been... incidents that prompted parents from several different schools to complain."
"That's still stupid. I'm not switching rooms because some idiots from other states can't keep it in their pants for one night." Santana adamantly crossed her arms.
"Look, Santana. I know it's rough but do you really want us to be disqualified before we even get a chance to sing? You've worked as hard as anyone to get here."
Weighing the options in her head, Santana frowned. Coming all that way and then going home without a fight would be pretty pathetic. After a moment she growled, "Fine. I'll take one for the team."
As she packed up her stuff and followed Mr. Schue out of the room, everyone else was silent.
Mr. Schuester led her to the door just to the left of the one they'd come out of and knocked. There was a crashing sound form inside the room, someone hollered "Just a sec!", and a minute later, Puck opened the door. "'Sup?"
Mr. Schue and Santana walked into the room, which was already a disaster zone. Pillows and sheets were everywhere, and it looked like someone had been chucking Raisinettes around–at least Santana hoped they were Raisinettes. A lamp was on the floor with the shade bend at an awkward angle. Finn stood next to it, poised with a football in his hand as if he'd been about to throw it.
Mr. Schue glanced over the mess with disapproving eyes but didn't say anything. "Look, guys, long story short, because of some rules, Kurt and Santana are switching rooms. She's going to be sleeping in here, and I expect all of you to treat her with respect." He shot a pointed look at Finn, who only appeared confused.
"I don't get why they're switching though," Artie said.
Puck raised an eyebrow. "Is it because they're gay?"
"Wait, you're gay?" Sam asked Santana with disbelief. Mike shot him an incredulous look.
Finn was having even more trouble processing the news. "I lost my virginity to a lesbian?"
"Guys! This is exactly what I was talking about," Mr. Schue yelled. The boys fell silent, but Santana's cheeks burned with shame, though she did her best not to show it. "This situation wasn't anyone's first choice, but I don't want you making it any harder than it has to be. Santana is doing us a big favor, and I think she would appreciate it if you didn't make things any worse." He gave them a final hard look, and then let himself out.
An awkward silence similar to the one that had occurred when she left the girls' room hung over the group until Puck tried to break it. "Sooo..."
The sound snapped Santana out of her miniature embarassment-induced coma. Time for some damage control. "Listen up, chicos," she snapped, and the five boys stood at attention. "Before anything happens, I just want to get one thing straight. If you piss me off or try anything, I will cut off your balls, and make you eat them."
She smiled neatly, while the boys all instinctively shielded their junk. She plopped her suitcase down next to the bed that more intact and sat down.
She noticed that the boys were still standing stiffly, unsure of what to do. "At ease, soldiers," she commanded them, and they visibly relaxed. Sighing, Santana thought it wouldn't be so terrible as long as those idiots left her alone.
"Heads up!" Finn shouted as a wild toss of the football almost nailed her in the face. She sent a medium-strength angry glare his way, but the look of terror on his face was enough to cheer her up a little bit.
Mr. Schue was about to head back to his own room after handing the situation when he saw Brittany sitting down in the hallway outside the girls' room, clutching her suitcase. "Brittany? Is something wrong?" he asked.
"No," Brittany replied.
Mr. Schue waited for an explanation, then asked, "Why are you not in the room?"
Brittany pouted and explained, "Well, you made Santana switch rooms because she's Lebanese, so I thought I wasn't supposed to sleep in that room either."
"Brittany, I'm sorry," Mr. Schue told her. "Are you also–Um, would you like to sleep in the other room as well?"
Brittany tilted her head. "No, you said that everyone who likes boys would go in one room, and everyone who likes girls would go in the other. I like both," she shrugged, "so I figured I should sleep in between."
Oh. Mr. Schue understood the issue now, but they didn't have any other rooms. "Tell you what, Brittany. You can sleep on the couch in my room."
"Oh, alright!" Brittany seemed relieved, and followed him. "So you like boys and girls, too?"
On the bright side, all of the boys seemed to have forgotten that Santana was there. They'd gotten bored with playing catch, and had been talking about football and stats and dumb stuff like that for a while.
Now, Artie was trying to throw the rest of the Raisinettes (thank God) into Sam's mouth, and Mike and Finn were playing Blackjack. Puck was lying on the other bed, looking through the huge list of channels on the TV. "Guys, check it out," he exclaimed. "Look at all the 'adult channels'. Let's get some porn!"
"No way, Mr. Schue would kill us," Finn mumbled. "Especially with..." Santana didn't look up from doing her nails, but she could tell they had all suddenly remembered her presence and were looking at her. Wonderful.
"Oh, come on," Puck chuckled. "Girls totally like porn just as much as guys, they just don't admit it. I think we could find one that's pleasing to everyone. I don't think any of the rest of us would be opposed to finding some girl-on-girl, am I right?"
"Yeah, well who's paying for it, big guy? I'm sure as hell not," Santana said matter-of-factly. "Stupid idea."
"Okay, fine." Puck grumbled, knowing better than to push Santana. He turned the TV off, and slumped down on the bed with disappointment.
"What do we do now?" Artie asked, not paying attention as he hit Sam in the nose with a Raisinette.
Puck's face lit up once again. "Let's have some fun... Truth or Dare."
Santana actually snorted. Truth or Dare was something she always associated with fifth grade girls on their first sleepover... but apparently, seventeen year old boys liked it too, judging by the murmurs of approval from the rest of them.
"Who's up first, then?" Sam asked.
"Oh, me! Dare!" Finn shouted, a bit too eager.
"Alright." Sam got a wicked grin on his face. "I gotta go the the bathroom," he laughed.
After a minute, he returned. "Okay, bro, you thirsty?"
"Um," Finn replied, realization hitting him.
"Go drink it. It's a dare, you can't back out," Sam slapped Finn on the back and pushed him towards the bathroom.
The other boys gathered around to watch and hooted with laughter, while Santana remained where she was. Really now?
"That was nasty, man," said Mike as the group returned. "You are one sick dude, Sam."
"Who's next, then?" Finn asked, wiping his face with a washcloth and looking vaguely nauseated.
"Well, I got a 'truth' for everyone," Artie said. "Well, I guess it's not original, but, hottest chick in glee club," he said plainly. After a pause, he added, "and you can't say anyone you've dated within the last year."
"Rachel," Puck answered without hesitation. When he got a couple looks, he defended himself. "What? She's got a pretty sweet body under those animal sweaters. And besides, the Jew vibe never fails to get me going."
"I'd say Brittany," Mike offered.
"Me, too." Sam agreed. Santana clenched her fist around the nail file so tightly her knuckles hurt. Jealousy? No... she was just sitting there doing her nails. No jealousy involved.
"So I can't say Rachel or Quinn?" Finn whined. "I guess then it would be San-" his voice broke with realization, "-tana," he whimpered. The other guys looked warily in her direction, waiting for the reaction.
Santana briefly wondered whether she should kill him or not. Yes, Finn was an idiot. But she really didn't want to have to fix her nails again after cleaning all of the blood and guts out of them, so she decided to take it as a compliment. "Thanks, Finnocence. I'm honored to be your third choice."
Finn didn't seem to know how to respond to that, but Artie broke the silence. "I'd say Quinn. I'm surprised no one else did."
"Well, Finn and I couldn't because of your rule," Sam pointed out.
"And you only picked her because you can't say Brittany," Mike observed.
"That may be, but I still think she's got quite a nice body."
"Hey, Santana? What about you?" Puck inquired.
"Are you seriously asking me which one of the girls I think is the hottest?"
Puck leaned back to sit with his arms stretched behind him. "Yeah. It would be rude not to include you." Artie chuckled at that. "So spill."
"Fine," she decided to humor them.
As she opened her mouth, Mike cut her off. "You can't say Brittany, either."
She clutched the nail file tightly once again. "Why not?"
"Because of the love," he sang. Puck high-fived him. "It'd be just like Finn saying Rachel."
"I don't–" Santana sat up quickly. "I'm not–"
"Save it, Lopez," Puck told her. "You're more transparent than that glass closet you live in. It's okay to love someone."
"You could stand to treat her better though," Artie muttered under his breath.
Desperate to divert the conversation, Santana blurted, "Quinn. Quinn, okay?"
"Wh-what?" Sam chuckled. "Was that your answer?"
"She's got a sweet ass..." Santana muttered.
"See? That's what I was saying. The rest of y'all are crazy." Artie declared.
Leaning over so that neither would hear him, Mike whispered to Sam, "I think Artie and Santana have eerily similar taste in women."
It was getting pretty late, so the group finally started getting ready to go to sleep. After Santana changed into her pajamas, Puck laughed. "Nice boxers. Stereotype much?"
"Nice tighty-whities. Weenie much?" she fired back without batting an eye.
They all slowly gathered around the two beds in their various sleepwear, unsure of what to do. "So... sleeping arrangements...," Finn began. "Looks like three to a bed. Who's sleeping where?"
"I think it's only fair if Santana gets to choose," Sam suggested. The others murmured agreement.
"Alright," she exhaled. "You two fools," she decided, pointing at Mike and Artie.
"What? Why them? Don't you trust me?" Puck exclaimed with mock outrage.
"Other Asian is the only one I actually trust," Santana said frankly. "But him," she motioned at Artie, "him, I can just shove off the bed if he tries anything funny."
Preparing for the most uncomfortable part, she waited for Puck to help Artie into the bed, then slid in next to him and Mike, trying to take up as little room as possible so they wouldn't be smushed together.
Once the lights were turned out, she relaxed a little bit. She could pretend she was alone. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep.
Will felt his wife cuddling up to him. "Terri, stop it," he thought warmly. But then he realized he was dreaming. He was divorced, and in a hotel in New York. So who was next to him in his bed, hugging him tightly?
When the realization hit him, he jumped away. "Brittany! What are you doing?" he shouted, louder than he had meant to.
The girl groggily sat up and rubbed her eyes. "What? What's happening?"
"Brittany," Mr. Schue began, rubbling his temples, "this is not appropriate. I told you to sleep on the couch."
"Sorry," Brittany replied. "I just really can't sleep without someone to cuddle with. At home I usually cuddle with Lord Tubbington, or Santana when she sleeps over."
Mr. Schue sighed. "Just go get ready, Brittany. We've got a big day..."
When Santana woke up, the bed was empty except for her. The guys were all sitting on and in front of the other bed, watching cartoons with the volume turned down.
"Sorry Santana," Sam loud-whispered. "Did we wake you up? I told you we shouldn't be watching TV," he smacked Puck on the head.
"No... that's okay." Santana said warily. "I'm going to be using the bathroom for a while, I need to shower."
"That's cool," Finn said. "We've all already brushed our teeth and peed."
Santana figured that one was one upside to sharing the room with a bunch of boys. She could only imagine the wars that were probably taking place that very moment in the next room while six girls and Kurt all fought for use of the shower and mirror.
She, on the other hand, was able to take her sweet time showering and then doing her hair. Once she was done, she found the boys watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and arguing over which one was the best.
"Dude. Donatello is the coolest by far. Don't even argue," declared Puck.
"No way," Artie said. "Swords are way more badass than staffs. Leonardo is way better."
"I don't see how you can argue against Michelangelo and his nunchucks," Santana stated, joining the conversation. The guys looked up, a little surprised, but not seeming to mind her joining in.
"Well, it's getting close to eight," she said, looking away. "We'd better go meet the others for breakfast."
"Um, wait, before we go, Santana, this is gonna sound cheesy, but," Finn began, "we think it's pretty cool that you were willing to share a room with a bunch of guys to help the team. Most girls would have totally freaked, but you were pretty cool."
"And we just wanted to say, that, um, even though you're gay, that's cool," Sam mumbled, "We know we joke about it, but you're still our friend."
"Yeah," Artie added. "If anything, it speaks to how much we respect you, because we tease each other all the time."
"Yeah, you're like our bro," Finn exclaimed excitedly, before Puck punched him in the shoulder with an exasperated look. "Um, no, not like, our bro, I mean-"
"Hey." Santana stopped him. "I could have worse bros than you guys." She smiled genuinely, and so did the rest of the guys. (Finn, especially, was both happy and relieved)
"Especially because you're all my bitches."