Rachel and Quinn were roomed together for the sectionals trip entirely by accident.
Mr. Schue was the one to break it to them. He had put Brittany and Santana together because they were Cheerios, and Mercedes and Tina together because they were friends (and even he knew better than to put Mercedes in a room with a Cheerio overnight), and that had left the two of them.
"It's not like I could put you in a room with a boy," he told them, as if their having to room together was the worst thing in the world.
"I understand, Mr. Schue," said Rachel, wearing her martyr face. "I'm sure that Quinn and I will be able to behave civilly. It is for one night, after all. And my fathers have taught me how to tie somebody to a bed, in case anything goes really wrong."
Quinn had to duck her face and bite her lip to keep Mr. Schue from seeing the snort of laughter that threatened to erupt from her.
"Rachel, I-" began Mr. Schuester, rising from his seat.
"I think she's kidding," said Quinn softly, raising her head to look at Mr. Schue and avoiding Rachel entirely.
"I know," said Mr. Schuester, rubbing his face. "I know. You guys always kid. But one day – "
"The worst I would do is paint her toenails green," promised Rachel, winking at Quinn. "I need her in a good physical state…so that she can perform well and help us win."
"I don't think that you have to worry about that," countered Quinn, but her hand pressed protectively against her stomach as she said that. She didn't want Rachel to worry about it, but it was what she worried about every hour of every day. High school was hard enough without adding a swelling belly into the mix.
"All right, as long as you two are resigned, you can go," said Mr. Schue, gesturing them out of his office. "But if I hear about you fighting about it before the trip-"
"You won't hear anything, Mr. Schue," promised Rachel as she herded Quinn out of the door. As soon as they got out of earshot, she finished her statement, "Except for Quinn's groans through the walls."
"Rachel Berry!" exclaimed Quinn in surprise.
But the truth was that they both needed this trip. Seven Minutes in Heaven (a nudist Heaven, apparently) at Rachel's party hadn't been enough. Hiding under the bleachers on drizzly Sunday afternoons hadn't been enough. Nor had evenings on Rachel's porch, or behind trees in the park. If they were both honest, they were coming close to losing it in Quinn's backseat in the school parking lot. And that was the epitome of Ohio cliché, which was something neither of them wanted to live out.
Rachel and Quinn didn't sit next to each other on the bus to sectionals. The bus left after school on Friday, and Quinn took her spot next to Finn and left Rachel to sit next to Kurt in the front of the bus, directly behind the seats where Ms. Pillsbury and Mr. Schue were pretending that they were just friends. Kurt rolled his eyes every time Ms. Pillsbury laughed, and Rachel tried to figure out how to take a picture of their touching hands with her phone through the crack in the seats, and the bus stopped four times so that Brittany could go to the bathroom. That was even more times than they had to stop for Quinn.
When they finally made it to the hotel, Mr. Schue stopped them all in the hallway to tell them the rules for the third time. No sleeping in somebody else's room. No going between rooms after midnight. No drinking alcohol from the mini bar. Wake up call was at eight. They were all expected to be in the breakfast room, with their make up done, at eight thirty. And he would be taping their doors to make sure they didn't leave after midnight.
Santana rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically.
"Taping won't be necessary, Mr. Schue," volunteered Rachel, beaming at him. "I'm sure that everybody will be going to bed early in order to be properly rested for tomorrow. Right everyone? Now, if you'll just hand me my key card, Quinn and I will tuck ourselves in so that we get our victory sleep."
Rachel stepped forward and plucked the proffered key from Mr. Schue's hand, and Quinn dodged Finn's goodnight hug and followed Rachel into their room, keeping her face down so that nobody would see her flushed cheeks.
The door clicked shut behind Quinn, and Rachel turned around and unfurled a scrap of pearl colored silk dramatically.
"What is that?" asked Quinn, her mouth dropping open.
"My pajamas," said Rachel matter-of-factly.
"You wear those to bed?" clarified Quinn.
Rachel tossed her hair over her shoulder.
"A girl needs pretty things to boost her confidence," said Rachel. "A confident sleeper is a well-rested sleeper, and a well-rested sleeper is a winner when awake. My fathers understand that. That's why they spare no expense on my bedtime regime."
Quinn turned around and dropped her bag onto the luggage rack. She toed off her shoes and shrugged off her sweater, and only when her sweater had dropped to the floor did she realize that Rachel had been completely silent for thirty seconds.
"What?" she asked, turning around and finding Rachel staring at her.
"Where are your pajamas?" asked Rachel.
Quinn sighed and unzipped her bag.
"They aren't like yours," she warned.
"I should think not," said Rachel pertly. "Victoria's Secret doesn't have a maternity section."
Quinn's jaw dropped and her fists clenched, but when she turned around again, she forgot her anger immediately.
"Oh dear god," she breathed as Rachel smirked at her.
Beneath Rachel's smirk was the slight shimmer of pearl silk and not much else. Her nipples stood out against the material, barely concealed, and her thighs looked impossibly soft in the lamplight.
"Your turn," whispered Rachel, and Quinn sighed and held up her sweat pants.
"Joe Boxer?" asked Rachel incredulously.
"It's not my fault," snapped Quinn. "Negligees aren't exactly good at keeping pregnancy a secret from one's parents. And I'm the goddamn president of the celibacy club."
Rachel stepped forward and grabbed the hem of Quinn's shirt, pulling Quinn towards her until their hips touched.
"It's all right," she whispered. "It's not like you'll be wearing it for long, anyway."
Quinn giggled and wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist, and Rachel tilted her face up and pressed her lips to Quinn's. Quinn opened her mouth and prodded Rachel's lips with her tongue, because kissing her in the privacy of their own room felt like being able to breathe again after swimming underwater.
Then came the knocking at the door.
"Who is it?" called Rachel.
"Mercedes," came the reply. "Open up."
Rachel shrugged on her bathrobe and tied the sash tightly around her middle as Quinn opened the door.
"You'd better not have been serious about that going to bed b.s.," announced Mercedes, raising her eyebrow as she surveyed Rachel's bathrobe, "Because there's an episode of My Super Sweet Sixteen on, and you're going to come and watch it with us."
Quinn silently picked up the room key from the nightstand, and Rachel sighed dramatically and followed them to Mercedes and Tina's room.
"I love this episode!" exclaimed Quinn after a few minutes had passed. "It reminds me of my 16th birthday. Except that my parents weren't present for the party. And they didn't know that I was wearing all of those diamonds."
"Girl, I know what you mean. My parents chose to be out of the house for my sweet 16, and they still to this day do not know why the floor in the living room dips in the middle. But if they had seen all of those girls stepping in their Timberlands-"
"My 16th birthday was lame," said Tina sadly, shaking her head. "We had orange creamsicle cake at my grandma's nursing home and played Scrabble."
"That's awful!" exclaimed Quinn, more at the thought of the caloric count of the cake than at the idea of Scrabble in a nursing home.
"Yeah," replied Tina, shrugging. "But the next week I got to see Katy Perry live, so I guess it was all right."
Everybody turned their heads to look at Rachel, who blinked and asked, "What?"
"What was your party like?" asked Mercedes.
"Well, I haven't had it yet," said Rachel defensively, "But I'm sure it will be just as great as this girl's. My fathers are probably planning on taking me to New York. Maybe we'll even have dinner with some Broadway actors. My dads know quite a few intimately, you know. And what better way to spend a birthday than in the presence of greatness?"
"We could throw you a party too," offered Tina. "I think you could, m-maybe, celebrate with friends, too."
"We could host it at my house," offered Quinn, "As long as there was no alcohol. That way you wouldn't have hostessing duties."
"Really?" asked Rachel, blinking rapidly against the tears in her eyes. "You guys would do that for me?"
"I mean, you did give up the lead in a musical for glee club," said Mercedes, "Even if you did leave because Tina got a solo."
Rachel looked like she was ready to pick that battle, so Quinn sat up quickly and bumped Rachel's leg with her own.
"I think we should be getting back to our room. Rachel has this crazy idea that she has to get up at six, like usual, and if I'm going to be civil at that hour, I need to get to bed pretty soon."
Quinn waited for Rachel to tumble off of the bed, then followed Rachel next door to their room.
"Six a.m.?" asked Rachel. "Are you sure?"
"No way," said Quinn quickly as she took off her dress and donned Joe Boxer. "By the time we actually get to sleep tonight, there will be no way we're moving at 6 o'clock in the morning."
Rachel stepped behind Quinn and wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist.
"I like the way you think," she breathed into Quinn's ear, causing Quinn to twitch when it tickled. "But we do have to have energy for performing tomorrow."
Quinn turned around and smirked. "Oh, I know that performing is still most important, Miss Berry," she reassured her. "But I've also heard that certain nighttime activities make some people better able to compete the next day."
"Actually," began Rachel, "A lot of boxers and wrestlers abstain from sex for weeks before a competition, because it makes them more competiti-"
Quinn placed her hands on Rachel's cheeks and kissed her, effectively shutting her up. Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck and snuck her tongue into Quinn's mouth, and Quinn worked her thigh between Rachel's legs, causing Rachel to groan.
Suddenly there was a pounding on the door, and Rachel and Quinn jerked apart with a groan of frustration.
Quinn opened the door to find Finn and Puck leaning against the doorframe.
"Hey," said Finn, looking at Quinn with concern. "You look a little flushed."
"Choreography," lied Quinn smoothly. "Rachel is convinced that we need some more practice."
"Well forget practice," Puck cut in, poking his head into the room. "There's this bar next door –"
"There's even karaoke," Finn added, smiling at Rachel.
"-and I heard that they don't ID."
"No," said Rachel emphatically, stamping her foot. "We are not getting drunk before sectionals. And you're not going to either. It's almost midnight, anyway-"
"It's 11 o'clock!"
"- and we all need to be well-rested – and sober! – for tomorrow. So go to bed, Noah. If I hear that you were in that bar, I will personally pull every single hair out of that Mohawk on your head."
Puck raised his eyebrow challengingly, and Rachel took a step forward, and Quinn shut the door in the guys' face.
"Now that they're gone," began Quinn, walking slowly across the room to Rachel. She placed her arms around Rachel's waist, and Rachel spun around quickly, pushing Quinn back onto the bed and lying down next to her. Their legs dangled off the edges as Rachel slowly pushed Quinn's pajama shirt up until it was thrown against the headboard.
"I don't know why you even put that on," murmured Rachel as she pressed her lips to Quinn's nipple.
"I couldn't exactly let the boys see me topless," replied Quinn breathlessly as her hands tangled in Rachel's hair. "I am still the president of the celibacy club."
Rachel lifted her head and smiled at Quinn before moving to the other breast, and Quinn felt Rachel's thigh settle between her legs and squeezed her eyes shut, silently thanking God that they were finally alone in a place where they couldn't be caught.
That was when the tapping began.
It was at their window, which was on the second story, and it took them several moments of alarm to realize that gravel was being thrown at their window. Finally Rachel rolled off of the bed and flung the curtains back.
"It's the guys," she announced. Quinn fell back against the pillows and rolled her eyes. Of course it was. Who else but guys would think of being a cock block even when there was no cock?
And then Quinn's phone rang, and she crawled across the king-sized bed to reach the nightstand on the other side, where she had left her purse.
"It's Finn," she said. She flipped the phone open, listened for a second, then said, "No. We're going to bed. Goodnight," and shut the phone again.
That was when Rachel's phone started ringing, and after five minutes of alternate phone calls, including one from Artie, who had gotten in on the game, Rachel finally called Mr. Schue.
When the knock came at the door this time, Rachel and Quinn were prepared for it. Rachel's bathrobe was on correctly, and Quinn's nightshirt was back on, if inside out.
But instead of being just Mr. Schue, it was Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury.
"Figures," muttered Rachel as she opened the door.
"You girls had a problem?" asked Ms. Pillsbury as she peered into the room.
Rachel stood aside and pointed to the window.
"Come see for yourselves. It's 11:30, and Quinn and I are trying to get our victory sleep, but the guys won't leave us alone."
Mr. Schue picked his way carefully across the room, and when he accidentally stepped on Rachel's bra, which was tangled with the comforter on the floor, he blushed. He made Ms. Pillsbury take over, and when she looked out of the window at the guys with their gravel below, she actually laughed.
"I think they really want you to come outside," she said.
"If they're thinking of going to that bar next door-" began Mr. Schue, but Ms. Pillsbury touched his arm gently and shook her head.
"Will, technically they haven't done anything wrong yet. If they're bothering the girls, we'll just move the girls. And at midnight, if they aren't in their rooms, you can go get them."
"So what are we supposed to do until then?" asked Rachel. "Keep answering their calls and listening to their rocks against our window? Become more haggard every moment we're forced to remain awake?"
"You can stay in my room," offered Ms Pillsbury. "Mr. Schuester and I were watching a movie in his, anyway, and if you fall asleep in my room, I'll just stay in here tonight. And that way, Mr. Schue will be able to come in here to find out if the boys are out after midnight."
Rachel looked quickly at Mr. Schue, who nodded.
"We accept," she decided quickly, handing Ms. Pillsbury one of their room keys and accepting one in return. "And if the guys aren't in bed at midnight, I would consider using force. They are jeopardizing our chance to win with their tomfoolery."
With that, Rachel flung her hair over her shoulder and did her classic storming out walk through the door, leaving Quinn to roll her eyes and follow.
"It's kind of creepy to be in a teacher's room," said Quinn as she stepped into Ms. Pillsbury's room.
Rachel glanced from the open suitcase with the symmetrically placed clothes to the pajamas folded neatly at the foot of the bed and shivered.
"She could walk in here at any moment, you know," blurted Quinn as Rachel slowly circled the room. "And if we put the latch on the door, she'll know something's up. She's a little flaky, but she's not stupid."
"The bathroom," blurted Rachel abruptly.
"What?" asked Quinn.
"We'll use the bathroom. She has, like, ten pillows on this bed, and if we're in the bathroom, she won't bother us."
"But both of us in the bath-"
"You're feeling nauseous, and I'm holding your hair back."
A smile spread across Quinn's face.
"You're smart," she admitted, nodding slowly.
That was how they ended up on the pillow-covered floor of a bathroom in their guidance counselor's hotel room. They collapsed against the pillows and giggled, and their voices echoed off of the porcelain, which only made them giggle more.
"We'll have to be quiet," whispered Quinn. "And with your penchants for high C's, that may be hard for you."
Rachel grabbed for the hem of Quinn's shirt, but Quinn was quicker, and she had Rachel's arms tangled in the straps of her negligee before Rachel knew what was happening.
"It's my turn," whispered Quinn as she pushed Rachel backwards and straddled her hips.
"And what will you-"
"Shhh," hissed Quinn as she pulled Rachel's negligee free of her arms. That left only a pair of tiny black panties and inches and inches of skin.
Quinn let Rachel pull off her t-shirt, then braced her arms on either side of Rachel's torso and gently pressed their bodies together. She lowered her mouth to Rachel's breast, nibbling the nipple lightly, then soothing it with her tongue, and when Rachel began to move restlessly underneath Quinn, Quinn trailed her hand down Rachel's stomach until her fingers caught against the waistband of Rachel's panties.
"God, Quinn," breathed Rachel, and Quinn craned her neck to press a kiss to Rachel's mouth. She sucked on Rachel's lower lip, and with Rachel suitably distracted, slid her hand down into Rachel's panties, curving her fingers to cup Rachel.
"Are you…okay?" asked Quinn uncertainly.
"I've just never…" Rachel trailed off, and Quinn shifted her weight to the side.
"If you want, we can-"
Rachel grabbed Quinn's wrist and held it where it was.
"Don't you dare," she whispered harshly. "I was just going to say that I've never pictured us doing this on the bathroom floor. I always assumed it would be in your car, or somewhere equally classy. But here we are, now, and it's like-"
Quinn moved her thumb to cover Rachel's clit, and Rachel broke off mid-sentence.
"You can talk later," Quinn told her. "But I'm a little too busy to listen right now."
Rachel was silent then, even as Quinn's fingers parted her and entered her, though her breathing grew more audible. Quinn could tell that Rachel was consciously trying to stay quiet, which made it more of a challenge for Quinn to inspire a vocal reaction.
"Are you ready?" asked Quinn as she moved her fingers in and out of Rachel's body more quickly.
Rachel's hips rose to meet Quinn's hand, and she bit her lip to keep herself quiet, but finally she gasped, "Hold me."
Quinn wrapped her free arm around Rachel's shoulders and kissed her neck, and as Rachel began to pant, Quinn found herself whispering into Rachel's ear, "You're so beautiful, you feel so good, you're so close, so close," until Rachel tensed, and froze and Quinn's fingers cramped from being held so tightly.
Rachel fell back against the pillows, and although a smile played at the corner of her mouth, she didn't say anything.
"Are you all right?" asked Quinn, brushing the hair out of Rachel's face.
"If somebody had told me that it felt like that…" began Rachel. Then she looked at Quinn, and a look of concern fell across her face.
Rachel reached up and touched Quinn's face softly.
"You. I feel fantastic, but you…"
Quinn was on her back, and Rachel was on top of her, kissing her stomach, pushing down Joe Boxer, before Quinn knew what to do.
"Quickly," begged Quinn, because her body was throbbing, aching for Rachel's touch.
Rachel smirked and pulled Quinn's panties down slowly. Then she pushed Quinn's legs apart, Quinn suddenly understood what she meant to do.
"Oh, Rachel, no, you can't-"
But Rachel's mouth was already on her, her tongue probing, and Quinn gave up on talking. She threw her head back, because the sight of Rachel Berry between her legs was too much for her to comprehend at that moment, and concentrated on remembering how to breathe when the sensations at the juncture of her thighs were taking all of her attention.
Rachel didn't say anything after Quinn had come and was lying limply on the pillow bed. She just reached on top of the toilet for the comforter she had brought in with them, spread it over Quinn's body, then slid under it and wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist.
"Goodnight," whispered Quinn, stretching her neck to press a kiss to the top of Rachel's head.
Rachel rested her head on Quinn's shoulder and tilted her face to kiss Quinn's chin.
"Goodnight," she replied.
They woke up hours later to a timid knocking.
"Girls? Are you okay?"
Rachel sat up quickly, then blushed and pulled the comforter around her shoulders to hide her nakedness.
"Ms. Pillsbury?" she asked, her voice raspy with sleep.
"Rachel? Is Quinn in there? Are you all right?"
Quinn opened her eyes and blinked slowly, surveying the clothes flung everywhere and feeling the way Rachel's legs tangled with hers underneath the covers.
"We'll be out in a second," called Rachel, hastily handing Quinn her shirt and pants and searching for her negligee. She had left her bathrobe in the bedroom, but hopefully Ms. Pillsbury wouldn't notice.
"What will we tell her?" asked Quinn desperately as she tried to put her legs in her pants.
"Just look sick and leave it up to me," promised Rachel reassuringly. She stacked some of the pillows so that they could open the door, then helped Quinn up and flung it open.
"Good morning," said Rachel, smiling at Ms. Pillsbury. "Quinn was feeling nauseous last night, and we didn't want to get vomit all over the hotel room, so I just made a pallet for her next to the toilet. I hope you didn't mind."
"How long were you in there?" asked Ms. Pillsbury, concerned.
Rachel tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.
"You mean you weren't in here last night?"
Ms. Pillsbury blushed, and Rachel grinned.
"Don't worry, Ms. Pillsbury. Quinn and I won't tell. Just let us move the pillows out, and we'll get out of your hair."
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," insisted Ms. Pillsbury, but Quinn and Rachel were too busy laughing and gathering up the pillows to hear her.
"We won't have to worry about anything," said Rachel as she and Quinn returned to their room. "In fact, now that we have the dirt on Ms. Pillsbury and Mr. Schue, we can practically write our own hall passes."
"Wow," said Quinn, turning to face Rachel. "I'm really proud of how devious you've become."
Rachel beamed and leaned in to kiss Quinn.
"Just wait until we win," she murmured against Quinn's lips. "That's when I get really cocky."