“So, there’s the bed, pillows, blankets, anything else you guys need?” Fenny asked.

“Another bed if you’ve got it,” Greg grumbled.

“You boys play nicely, don’t make me come out here,” she smiled. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Brad chimed.

“Eehnugh,” Greg moaned. Fenny flipped off the light and disappeared into her room. “I’ve never hated you as much as I hate you right now,” Greg announced as each man scooted as close to his edge of the bed as possible.

“Just get to sleep,” Brad yawned.

“My wife yells at me, two hours in a car with you, Gina makes an idiot out of me, my car dies a miserable death, I’m stuck watching The Breakfast Club, and now sharing a lumpy bed with you.”

“I don’t like it any more than you do.”

“If you tell one other living soul about this, I will hunt you down and set fire to…”

“Greg, please,” Brad sighed into his pillow.

Greg closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep, difficult because of the death-grip he had on the metal frame of the bed. The last thing he needed was to wake up spooning with Brad.

“Ow,” came the startled groan from the floor. “Damn you, Brad.” Greg climbed back into bed, giving Brad a deliberate shove to make up for the kick Brad had given him that had knocked him out of the bed. The throbbing in his knee slowly subsided and he began to slip back to sleep, until Brad rolled over, elbowing him in the head.

“This is worse than I’d imagined,” Greg growled. As if on cue, Brad let out a snort and began to snore, loudly, mercilessly. Greg pulled the pillow up over his head; if anything, that made the snores echo more loudly in his head. Greg glanced at his watch. Only 1:20. He gave Brad a rough wallop with the pillow. He grumbled in response and was silent for a minute or two before slowly building up to a freight train of buzz saw-wielding hyenas again. “Jesus Christ.” Greg wondered if holding a pillow over Brad’s face would suffocate him to death or just knock him out.

“Fuck this,” he said, rolling out of bed and stumbling through the living room in the dark. He opened the door and immediately tripped over a suitcase. “Ouch.”

The bedside light flicked on and he blinked against the brightness. “Get the hell out of my room,” Gina hissed.

“You’re honestly gonna send me back into that torture chamber?”

Gina blinked at him. When he didn’t have his glasses on, his eyes were too close together. “Yes.”

“He kicked me off the bed, he tried to kill me, and he’s snoring. Just listen.” They paused for a moment. “This is snoring that will wake the dead and kill the living.”

“Fenny puts up with that?” Gina gasped.

“You see my problem, then?” Greg asked hopefully.

“Yeah. Shut the door.” He did as he was told, grateful that the snoring was quieted a bit. She threw a blanket at him. “Make a spot on the floor.”

“Gina…”

“What? If you’re gonna whine, I’ll send you out.”

“The floor?” he sighed. “I’m an old man, I can’t sleep on the floor.” He tried on his best puppy dog face. “I promise I won’t try anything.”

She glared at him for a moment, too tired to argue. “Fine,” she breathed. “You so much as touch me, and I swear I’ll send your testicles to Cuba.”

“You are a goddess.” He climbed on the bed next to her, using the blanket she had given him. They got themselves properly settled and appropriately far apart, and were beginning to fall sleep when Brad somehow managed to let out a series of snores that must have rattled the neighbor’s windows.

“That does it,” Greg declared, and jumped out of bed. Gina got up and reluctantly followed to make sure he didn’t actually kill Brad. They met Fenny in the hallway.

“You’ve been fighting Ritza for this?” Gina asked.

“He’s never snored like this before,” Fenny shrugged. “Maybe he’s got a cold or something.” She went into the living room where Brad was curled on his side. “My dad used to snore, and my mom rolled him over. Supposed to stop ‘em.” She gave him a solid push and he sprawled out on his back. All was silent. They waited. And he snored.

Gina disappeared down the hall again. Greg grabbed a pillow and held it over Brad’s head, lowering it slowly. “Killing him is not the answer,” Fenny said sleepily.

“It’ll let me sleep,” Greg answered.

“Well what if your bunkmate in prison snores? Or worse?”

Greg glared at her. “Can we knock him out for a while?”

“Do you not snore if you’re unconscious?”

“I don’t know, but I’m willing to find out.”

“Here,” Gina said, thrusting a handful of cotton balls at Fenny. “Up his nose.”

“Come on you guys, is this really gonna work?”

“Worth a try,” Gina said.

Fenny sighed dejectedly and carefully worked a cotton ball in each nostril. “He’s still snoring,” she announced.

“No shit,” Gina yelped.

“Tabasco,” Greg announced. “You got any?”

“Why?” Fenny asked warily.

“Something I read once. You put Tabasco on a snorer’s tongue and it freaks out the system or something.”

“You just wanna mess with the guy,” Gina said.

“So?” Greg countered.

“What’s all the racket?” Brad asked blearily.

“All the racket?” Greg demanded. “I should kill you for that, I really should.”

“Brad, you were snoring,” Fenny said. “Kept us up.”

“I’m going back to bed,” Gina announced. “Either make sure he doesn’t snore or kill him or send him into the hallway or something.”

“Cotton balls?” Brad asked, pulling them out of his nose.

“Gina’s idea,” Greg smiled. “And I’m willing to wager there’s plenty more where they came from, so stop snoring if you don’t want any other orifices filled.” He wandered down the hall.

“Brad, you don’t normally snore,” Fenny said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Something wrong?”

“Maybe it’s the funny springs,” Brad mused. “Or the dust from the mattress not being used.”

“If you’re trying to worm your way into a real bed, it’s not gonna happen,” Fenny declared.

“Then you can’t blame me for snoring,” Brad shrugged and rolled over to sleep.

Fenny sighed. “You’ve really put me in a bad spot, you know. If I let you sleep out here and snore, those two will suffocate you.” She looked at him, his tousled hair, the moonlight on that half-hidden smile, and her reserve broke. “Fine, come to bed.” He leapt up eagerly. “There will be no funny business.”

“Alright,” he agreed reluctantly as he followed her to the bedroom.

Fenny climbed back into bed and got comfortable while Brad slid in beside her.

“Can I turn out the light?” she asked.

“Go ahead,” Brad smiled and he snuggled under the covers.

Fenny did so and then turned over, away from Brad. She was blissfully falling back into the land of nod when she felt Brad’s hand on her bum.

“Move it or lose it,” she grumbled.

“Oh was that you, I thought it was the covers,” Brad said innocently.

Fenny lifted her head and looked at him over her shoulder. “Course you did.”

“Sorry, can we just sleep now?” Brad asked.

Fenny let out a sigh and got herself comfortable again. Less than thirty seconds later, there was more movement on Brad’s behalf, and this time he spooned against her.

“Brad,” Fenny breathed.

“Mmm,” Brad mumbled.

“What did I just say?” Fenny asked.

“My hand isn’t on your ass anymore,” Brad said defensively.

“No, they’re both preoccupied somewhere else entirely,” Fenny countered.

“Oh, so they are,” Brad mused.

“I should send you back out there,” Fenny scorned.

“But?” Brad asked.

“Shut up and go to sleep,” Fenny mumbled.

Brad grinned to himself and planted a soft kiss on Fenny shoulder.

Gina lay staring at the ceiling. She was awake now. She hated when that happened. Not only that, but Greg had ditched the blanket and, claiming bad eyesight, climbed under the covers with her. It wasn’t that it was a bad thing, but she hadn’t had the joy of brushing against hairy legs for a while. She looked over at Greg’s sleeping form,

“Greg? you awake, Greg,” Gina whispered.

There was no response, so she poked him.

“Greg,” she whispered again.

“What?” Greg mumbled sleepily.

“I can’t sleep, entertain me,” Gina mused.

“Its 2am and I’m tired and pissed off, I can’t entertain,” Greg huffed.

“Well, look who’s got their grumpy bootums on,” Gina scorned.

Greg rolled onto his back. “Don’t use my own words against me,” he grumbled.

“Hey, it’s your fault I’m awake,” Gina retorted, propping herself up onto her elbow.

“And it’s your fault I’m awake,” Greg countered.

The fell silent.

“I wonder what my mum’s gonna think of this one?” Gina mused to herself.

“You’re gonna tell you mom?” Greg gasped.

“She won’t believe me. ‘Hey, Mum, guess what I did in the states…'” Gina giggled.

“What do you think she’ll say?” Greg asked.

“She’ll probably call me a slut and remind me that you’re married,” Gina replied.

“Smart woman,” Greg agreed.

They fell silent again.

“Do you think Fen and Brad are doing it?” Gina asked.

“Do you think I care?” Greg grunted.

“Just making conversation,” Gina mused.

“Don’t you feel even slightly uncomfortable that we’re sharing a bed?” Greg exclaimed.

“Actually I find it terribly amusing,” Gina perked. “Don’t tell me you feel…” she started giggling again.

“What’s so funny?” Greg asked.

“You,” Gina replied. “This is me you’re with, we have the world’s first indescribable relationship.”

“Your point being?” Greg asked bewildered.

“Never mind,” Gina mused and took the liberty to snuggle up to Greg.

“So is this a dare too?” he asked.

“Nah, you’re just like a big, squishy teddy bear,” Gina cooed.

“Oh god, don’t you dare tell anyone that,” Greg giggled.

“You don’t want me to snuggle, then?” Gina asked blankly.

“Oh no, you can snuggle. Don’t let me deny you that pleasure,” Greg mused.

“Pleasure, right,” Gina mumbled.

“Ok, just for that I’m turning over,” Greg jeered and rolled over away from Gina.

“Fine, I’d rather not be too close to someone who reeks like an exhaust,” Gina scorned.

Greg turned back over and wrapped his arms and legs around Gina so she couldn’t move. “I’m going to stay like this all night now,” Greg said, trying not to laugh.

Gina couldn’t talk for giggling, which caused Greg to laugh and they both ended up in hysterics, for reasons they weren’t sure of.