A/N: This is the third fic in my After Hours series. It's a bit different because 1) it's an RPF and 2) it'll most likely be a multi-chapter fic. This story is dedicated to all my reviewers from Unrequited Love (it's on my profile if you want to check it out-it's a Heya fic) who wanted Nayanna. I told you I'd get around to writing some Nayanna for ya'll and here it is, the finished product! Please review; your input is really what makes me want to write. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. This fic is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Spoilers: Maybe some. This takes place now, so any rumours about season 3 are fair game.

["It is strange to be known so universally and yet to be so lonely." -Albert Einstein]

"Naya?"

I look up to find a pair of eyes and a set of blonde hair in my face. She's kneeling on the ground right in front of me, her baby blue dress riding up the tiniest of bits. I immediately try to wipe away the cascading tears, the smudged makeup, but it's no use, no matter how hard I try I continue to weep. I have been for the good part of an hour, too. Once I was done filming with Heather, I was out of there, running off to anywhere so long as it didn't involve my best friend. I needed space. So here I am, leaning against the back of a wall in one of the many bathrooms here on set. It's one of the nicer ones though, I so I don't terribly mind. I do mind, however, that someone managed their way in; I was nearly sure I locked the door. Guess not.

"W-what are you doing here?" I finally splutter out, my attempts at making the words semi-resolved failing.

"I just wanted to check on you. I ran into Heather and she said she'd been looking for you everywhere. She told me you ran away right after you were done shooting?"

I sniffle. "Yeah, uh, I had to talk to…Ryan about…something. It's all good now."

"Really?" she asks, a hint of 'I'm not stupid and I know that's not true' evident in her voice.

"Yeah…"

"I don't believe that for one second."

"Well it's true," I snap. I'm so not in the mood for a serious talk right now. I just want to wash my face, get out of Santana's Cheerios uniform, and head home. I need to be alone, some time to think things through. Sure I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, a huge amount of siphoning through feelings with a fine-toothed comb, but it's what needs to be done. Plus, I'm not ready to share any of what's been on my mind with anyone else, so I really have no one to talk to but myself anyways.

"If it's true then why are you in here crying?"

"Dianna," I warn, not wanting to go into this.

"Please, Naya, just talk to me."

"Hmm let me think for a minute. No." My voice is cold and sarcastic and I want nothing more than to stand up and march out, not giving her a second glance. I don't however, I just stay where I am, curling my knees under my chin and wrapping my tan arms around them. I wish I could stay like this forever, safe and in the comforts of a quiet, peaceful room with nobody else in it. That is, until Dianna showed up.

"What has been going on with you lately, hmm? You've been distracted, unfocused."

"Nothing," I lie, annoyed. Can't she take a hint?

"Come on! Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think we all are? What the hell is going on with you, Naya?"

"I don't wanna talk about it, alright! Just…please. Leave me alone!" More tears have begun making their way down my face and Dianna's expression immediately softens.

"Hey there," she coos, moving to sit next to me. She throws her arm around my shoulders, a lock of her short, blonde hair tickling my ear. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I just…we care about you, Naya. We all do. We just wanna know what's going on so we can help you."

I sniffle, taking this all in. It's clear that she wants to help. Apparently…everyone does? Everyone as in…?

"Wait, what do you mean 'we care about you'? Does everyone else think there's something up with me?"

A snort almost erupts from Dianna's throat but she shoves it back down, trying to maintain her 'well, duh' smile that's ever so close to gracing those pretty lips of hers. I guess she realizes the seriousness of my question when I don't even try to grin.

"Um, yeah, kind of. I mean, you haven't exactly been subtle about whatever this is, Naya. You've been way quieter than usual, you've turned down everyone's offers to go to lunch, you hardly ever come to parties; there's obviously something up and we, everyone, just want to know what we can do to help you."

I don't know what to say. On one hand, it's really sweet that they all care about me so much. Especially Dianna; she is the one sitting on a bathroom floor talking to my right now. But on the other side of it, I know I'm not ready to tell people yet. I still have to figure things out for myself.

"Listen Di," I start out carefully, "Thank you for caring, thanks to everyone, I guess, but…I'm not really ready to talk yet."

"That's fine. But whenever you are, you know where to find me. Or anyone, for that matter. Does…does Heather know what's going on?" I give her a steely glare and she cowers a bit. "I only ask because usually you tell each other everything but when I was talking to her earlier, well, she seemed to have no idea what was up with you."

"Yeah, well I don't tell her everything, okay?" Between the growing anger and my sniveling voice, I'm amazed that Dianna hasn't called an insane asylum yet.

"I know that, Naya, but you tell each other a lot." Her voice is suddenly softer, making me realize the truth to her statement. I do tell Heather a lot, and she tells me equally as much, maybe even more as of late. I hate lying to her—well, technically I'm not lying, I'm just not being one hundred percent truthful…to her or me—but like I said, I'm simply not ready. I hate that every time I give her a one word answer or a smile when she says 'hello' rather than a big Naya hug, she looks like she's about to cry. I don't like making her hurt, but I have to protect my own feelings before anyone else's.

Maybe Dianna's right, though, maybe I should tell someone what's going on. It'd certainly help having someone to talk to. Then again…I can't tell Heather…no. That would just make things more awkward and real. I don't want to spring everything on her in fear of her realizing my maybe-feelings for her.

"I know that, but this is something that's kind of…personal," I finally say in response.

"So personal that even Heather doesn't know? Geez, Naya, what is it? Are you okay?" She doesn't ask it mockingly, she's genuinely concerned. Great. Now I've got her to worry about, too.

"No, no. It's nothing bad. Yes, I'm fine. Well…kind of. I mean, I'm fine physically and stuff. I just…ugh." My mind is working a mile a minute and for the life of me I can't figure out what to say. My brain won't pinpoint one thought; rather it's flitting around, surfing through all the crap up in my head and trying to tell Dianna of it all at once.

"Naya," she murmurs soothingly, placing a warm hand on my thigh. "Stop. Breathe. If you want to tell me, then go ahead. Take your time; I'm in no rush. If not, then just know that I'm here for you, okay?" I nod silently. Her hand is rubbing circles on my flesh and it feels so damn relaxing. This is good. This is what I needed; some time to talk to a friend who's understanding, not judgmental, even though she has no idea what's going on.

"Thank you," I whisper, looking into her eyes to show my appreciation. She stares back and we sit like that for what seems like quite a while. There's something there in her face that's unreadable. It's almost as if she's got some deep, dark secret buried within her as well. I'm dying to know what it is but I know it'd be completely hypocritical of me to ask her when I'm not giving her anything to go by about me. Part of me really wants to tell her, of course, but then it'd make it real, and I'm not sure how I'll be able to handle that. If someone else knows…it just would be so much different. But maybe nice…

"Dianna?" I begin, taking a breath and steadying myself. "C-can I tell you something?"

The blonde next to me laughs, the loud sound echoing off the walls in the tiny bathroom. "Of course you can, silly, that's what I've been telling you this whole time."

"I just…I know. But…please don't judge me, okay?" I wince, my eyes squeezing shut for the briefest of seconds. I can't believe I'm about to do this. Breathe, Naya, breathe.

"Of course not," she says reassuringly, but I can tell there's a hesitance there. She seems to be wondering what could be so big that I'd warn her not to judge me.

"Okay, well just remember you asked for it."

I sit for a while, totally silent, the sounds of our breathing the only thing to be heard. I stare straight ahead at the painted white door. Some of the paint is peeling off in crackly bits and there's a small pile of paint chips on the ground. A leaky faucet begins making its presence known and I irritably whip my head towards it, as if that would shut it up.

"Um, Naya, are you gonna say anyt—"

"I think I'm gay."

I say it quickly to get it over with. I also go quiet when Dianna starts to speak but by the it's too late; the four words are already out of my mouth.

Oh shit.

Did I really just…?

My heart starts beating rapidly and I can feel a new level of adrenaline coursing through my veins. I can't believe I just said that out loud. I—

Oh. My. God. I just said that out loud.

I think it's registering.

I chance a glance towards Dianna and see that she's giving me a funny look. It partly looks like she wants to tell me something but it also seems as if she's debating how to reply. Come on now, Di, say something. You're killing me here.

"Really?" she finally asks. Her voice is soft, serene. I let out a long string of air I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Her calmness of the whole situation is relaxing me and I feel my shoulders deflate downwards. A few stray tears have started making their way down my face yet again, the few drops leaving salty trails in their wake.

"Yeah."

"Hey. Don't cry," she says when she notices I'm starting to heave once more. "Naya," she breathes when my cries only grow stronger. "Come here," she murmurs, pulling me into her arms and engulfing me with a much needed hug.

"Y-you're amazing, you know t-that, Dianna?" I mutter into her sweater, the sobs wracking my body making me stutter.

"You're not too bad yourself." She continues to rub circles over my back and when we pull away from each other she doesn't let go of my shoulders.

"Why are you crying?"

I sniffle and proceed to wipe my runny nose with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. Mascara and wetness also dab at the sweatshirt but I'm at a point where I really couldn't care less.

"Because I've never told anyone. And I don't even know if I am…you know."

"Well that's fine, there's no rush for this kind of thing."

Another silence passes by. My sobs are dying down to hiccups and I feel Dianna snuggling in closer to me. I sigh contently. It feels nice to have someone be there for you, to have a friend, to have a person willing to listen to all your crap. She's nuzzling closer now and I scooch in as well. I want all the comfort I can get. It's odd. Part of me is getting kind of awkwardly hot. Damn it, Naya. Stop it. You've already got Heather on your mind; you absolutely do NOT need Dianna in your dreams, too.

"I'm fine with it, you know that right?" Dianna says suddenly.

"Yeah, Dianna. I know."

"Good," she mutters into my hair, "good." She kisses my forehead lightly and I feel a shiver run down my spine.

"So can I ask you?"

I stare at her, bewildered, while she idly strokes a pale, perfectly polished finger up and down my arm. "Ask what?"

"About Heather."

I gulp. Oh shit. Does she know?

"Um. What about her?" I ask as normal as possible. I don't want to give anything away in case she's talking about something completely different.

"Do you…you know…like her?"

I pull back from her embrace and stare at her. There's no look of joking in her eyes, nor is she trying to contain any smiles of sorts. This is real. She's essentially asking me if I have a crush on my best friend. Damn it. I didn't want anyone to know I might be gay much less know I might be hopelessly in love with Heather.

"Well of course I like her, Di, she's my best friend."

She gives me a look that makes me shrivel back to the wall timidly. Of course she won't buy that.

Sighing, I give up. "Fine. Yes, okay? I think I might. That's…I mean, she's…she's the reason I even started questioning my sexuality in the first place." I look away, not wanting to meet Dianna's gaze in case she's gonna start making fun of me. I know she won't; I'm just being paranoid. But still…you never know. Falling for your best friend? It's just so damn cliché.

"Naya. Naya, come on. Look at me." Groaning internally I turn to meet my friend's caring gaze.

"I get it, okay?"

I stare at her, puzzled. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I know what it's like, how it feels."

I'm sorry, Miss Agron. What was that?

"You know how…what feels?"

"Lov—I mean, er. Falling for a friend. It sucks. But it feels good at the same time."

I soak this in, letting my thoughts wander to who perfect Dianna Agron could have fallen in unrequited-love with. Beats me. I never thought she could have a problem larger than 'what kind of outfit should I wear today that'll make all them Faberry slash Achele fans tumblr riot'.

Oh. Oh. Faberry. Fabray, Berry. Achele. Agron…Michele?

"Wait a minute, Dianna. Do you and Lea—?"

Before I can finish she clamps a hand over my mouth to shush me. "Geez Naya, what are you trying to do, alert the whole cast and crew?" I yank away and she sulks, looking down at her feet.

"Sorry, that was uncalled for."

"I'll say," I mutter. "What was that even about?"

"I…it's nothing, okay? Just forget I ever said anything."

She looks torn. Her face keeps morphing from excited to sad to confused. I want so desperately to ask her what she's talking about but don't want to push her. She had patience with me so it's only right for me to treat her the same way.

"Okay," I start hesitantly, "But just remember that I'm here for you."

She laughs and brushes something out of the corner of her eye, no doubt a loose tear threatening to fall. She catches it, though, and sighs deeply, running her hands through her short, blonde hair.

"When did you know you're gay?"

I blink, surprised at the suddenness of the question and the abrupt change in topic. "Um. Well…I don't know if I am gay, Dianna. I just…I think I might have feelings for Heather—how deep they run, I'm not sure—and I've had feelings for girls in the past, like, when I was younger and before Glee even got on its feet or I knew any of you. And I'll probably have feelings for women in the future. But that doesn't mean I'm gay. I'm still trying to figure stuff out here."

She nods in understanding, slowly moving her eyes around in a haphazard direction, perhaps to work her way through my new revelation. "I get that. Let me rephrase then. When did you start liking Heather?"

I shrug. "I don't know really. I guess maybe back towards the middle of season one. When I was dating Mark it was kind of a denial thing. I think I was trying to convince myself I'm straight and he was willing to go out with me so I was like 'why not', you know? But then I realized he was more like a big brother to me than anything so that was that. And after that I kept thinking about Heather and noticing women and guys sort of disappeared for awhile. So I don't really know."

Dianna sits with wide eyes, still snuggling close and now running her hands through my hair.

"Um. Sorry. That was probably way more info than you wanted to hear," I mumble, laughing nervously.

"Ha ha Naya, it's fine. I'm just happy you're finally talking to someone. It seems like you've had all this stuff on your mind for quite some time now."

"Yeah…"

"Well I'm honored you chose to tell me. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to."

"Um, yeah. I'd appreciate that," I say. I feel bad making her keep a secret for me but like I said, I'm not ready for a public announcement just yet.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, both of our minds full with wheels turning and gears shifting. I have so much to sort through and I'm sure Dianna's feeling the same way. Reflecting on everything—all the tiny details in my childhood, all the guys I dated, all those times when I secretly loved hanging out with a certain female friend of mine many years ago, that euphoric sensation I got when we'd hug—I realize that I've probably known for a while now, I've just tried to convince myself otherwise. I don't know why, really. I mean, I wouldn't say I'm ashamed. I'm definitely not homophobic. I guess I just figured it'd be easier to…you know, stay in the closet, what with all the media attention and such.

I catch Dianna's wandering gaze and silently wonder what she's thinking about. Her eyes are fluttering every which way, her head turning, making her cute bob of a haircut swish adorably back and forth. I've never really noticed it before—okay, I have, but I've never really given it much thought—but Dianna really is one of the prettiest women I've ever met.

No. You know what? If I'm gonna be gay, I can say it.

Dianna's hot.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to act like that typical sixteen year old boy that calls dibs on the hottest girls in school (or in this case, work), but you have to admit, she's certainly something to look at. Everyone knows it; Cory, Kevin, and the rest of the guys have talked about it. So why can't I?

Whoa.

Can you please stop thinking about Dianna in that kind of way, Naya? Thanks. But then again…her flawless skin, pretty blonde hair, sexy curves—

Oh shit. She's giving me a look. Am I looking at her? Oops. I am. Damn it. I'll have to remember to be more subtle about this kind of stuff in the future. No! You'll have to remember to not think about this kind of stuff in the future.

"Naya?"

"Yeah?" I answer, way too quickly. She gives me a quizzical look but continues, ignoring the jitteriness etched into my face.

"You okay there? You kind of…zoned out." She keeps out of her statement an obvious 'and you were staring at me'. Thank God for that.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

"Sure you are," she mumbles under her breath. As we sit in silence once more—this time an awkward one—I start thinking about what Dianna nearly let slip or let not slip earlier. What was she talking about, falling for a friend? It was as if she was speaking from a definite amount of experience. But what friend could she fall for? Not Cory. I know the both of them too well to know that they'd never be in a relationship. Cory's too goofy and teddy-bear like to make a good boyfriend, at least to Dianna, whom he sees every day. I'm sure he'd make some other girl out there happy, just not someone from the Glee cast.

Then there's Mark. Hah. Mark. No way. I dated him, remember? And basing it off of my experiences with him, not that there were many…intimate ones—I was still trying to find out why my mind veered to Heather every time Mark and I kissed, after all—Dianna and him wouldn't make a good pair.

Kevin. No. Just…no. He's my Bee!

Chris? Um. I don't think I have to answer that.

Harry. Ehhh. Maybe. I mean, they'd be cute together. But think about it. Dianna dating someone in the cast? It just wouldn't happen. We're too much of a family for that. Sure Mark and I went out, but it was early in season one and, like I said, I was going through stuff.

I think that's it. Oh wait. Matt. Does he even count?

So who the hell else could Dianna be thinking of? There's not many people I know of that she's great friends with outside Glee. And even if there was someone I'm sure I'd know about him. Or at least Lea would; they tell each other everything.

Ah, Lea.

But…no. Dianna's straight. Like, ruler, arrow, edge of a piece of paper straight…right?

"Can I try something?"

I shake my head, willing myself back to the present. I almost forgot that the person in question is sitting right next to me. Looking up, though, there she is, makeup covering her face and adorned in that dress of hers, covered by a puffy, comfortable looking sweater.

"Uh…yeah, of course."

Before I know what's happening, Dianna's leaning into me, placing her hands lightly on the back of my neck.

"Don't freak out, okay?"

Sorry Agron, but I'm way past that point. It looks as if you're about to kiss me or something.

Keeping my mouth clamped shut I let her do as she wishes. She starts moving her hands lower, massaging my back soothingly. Her face keeps coming closer and closer and I swear I forget how to breathe. This…is…slightly…strange…

Her lips are now about a centimeter away from mine. Risking a chance of my voice sounding terribly croaky and nervous, I part my mouth slightly and breathe out a simple question, or at least one that should be simple but perhaps isn't in this certain situation.

"W-what are you d-doing?" I can't contain the stutter in my voice; wouldn't you be the teensiest bit confused if one of your best friends was kneeling this close to you? Especially after finding out that they're most likely one hundred percent gay?

"Just go with it," she whispers. Less than a second after she says it, she connects her lips to mine. I don't wince or flinch or pull away. Instead, I moan, slanting in closer to her. She rubs her tongue along my bottom lip and I comply, opening my mouth the tiniest of millimeters and letting her explore the confines of my mouth.

She tastes sweet; her lip gloss, if I'm correct, is peach flavored and I immediately match Dianna's flavor to be peach. It suits her. Fuzzy and soft on the outside yet juicy and sometimes sour, like the feistiness we all know she can render up, on the inside. I sigh inwardly. This is nice. I'm kissing Dianna and I'm surprisingly calm. I'm—

Wait a minute. I'm kissing Dianna.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

I pull away suddenly, as if I'm a little kid again who just touched her finger to the hot burner of a stove. Dianna recoils back too, a hurt look flashing across her face. It immediately turns to anger and then to confusion. I watch as her expressions act as a movie reel; each one portraying her quickly-changing feelings.

"Dianna, stop." I place my hand on hers and attempt to calm her down.

"I-I'm so sorry, Naya," she gushes almost inaudibly, refusing to meet my gaze.

"Hey, stop." I pull her chin up towards mine so I can look right at her. "In case you didn't notice, I wasn't doing anything to stop it."

Dianna goes to respond but stops, as if she's considering this true and perplexing fact.

"Well still, I'm sorry. I should just…" She stands up shakily, making her way towards the door. "I should go."

"No. Di, wait. Please!" Before I can stop her, though, she's outta there, turning out of the bathroom into the hallway and making a beeline through the many corridors and sets.

"Damn it," I mutter to myself. The sound echoes off the bathroom walls, making me realize I'm alone once more. Only this time, I feel more alone than I've ever felt in my life.