I wake up to a dark room and the sound of the DVD menu playing over and over again. I squint to see the clock on the DVD player; it was after midnight. Holy crap… how did we sleep for this long? I felt B's slowly and softly breathing body curled around mine, holding me protectively. Rarely was I the little spoon, I just liked it better to curl myself around her, even though there was a size mismatch. She just… fit. I didn't know if she felt the same way about when I was little spoon.

We had fallen to a more comfortable position than the one we were originally in when we were sitting and cuddling together on the couch. B was laying flat across the cushions behind me, and I was snuggled into her front. One of her arms was draped under my neck, falling off the couch. Her other was strongly, possessively, holding me close to her. If I had a problem with closeness issues, I would be flipping out right now. I could feel her whole body wrapped against mine; she even had a leg in between mine. B just slept like this – close to other people. I always felt so loved when I was around her, but I could never tell if it was just because she loved to be close to people. People. Not just Santana Lopez. Insert a Quinn Fabray or a ugh… Hobbit Berry and I'm sure the hold would be just as tight. Right?

I close my eyes for a second and just let my body fall back into Britt. She shifts slightly, and her arm locks itself further over my chest. She pulled me impossibly closer. I could literally feel every part of her intertwined with me. I sighed. I just wish this meant as much to her as it did to me. Eventually, I'm going to have to get over my feelings. I wouldn't give up this friendship for all of the Mercedes Benz convertibles and un-max-outable credit cards in the world. I just recently came to terms that these were actually intense feelings, though, and not just sexual frustration. This is going to take some time.

My mind wandered as I closed my eyes and snuggled with B. I thought about what she had said earlier. "Q is always hot, San." I searched through my mind of me ever thinking this before on my own. If I was gay, I would have totally thought about Q before now, right? I mean, she is the picture-perfect version of a female, next to B, of course. Her body was toned and she had mastered the HBIC smirk that, I'll admit, always got me going a little bit. What? I pushed that thought out. We all changed together, all the time. Me and a bunch of other scantily clad toned, tanned, and trim ladies, and I had never given them a second look. So… what does this stuff mean?

It suddenly dawned on me that I never noticed any of those other girls before because… I was always looking at Brittany. I never had the time to notice anyone else because I was always paying full attention to her, just like I had for the rest of my entire life, that I could remember, anyway. Thinking back to any "relationship" I had had thus far in high school, I always had pinkies linked with her while I made out with any guy in the hallways. Wow, that is definitely as weird as it sounds in my head right now…

Even Puck. I slept with many a guy, but he was the guy I kept going back to. It was easiest with him. He was clearly the choice for the "boyfriend," but I was never really into it. He was, by popular vote of the high school, the hottest guy in school. Next to Finnocence… ugh. Seriously, that kid and his pasty-ass nipples. I just don't see it. Come to think of it, I don't really see it in Puck, either. The trim six-pack I knew so well he had melted out of my mind, only to be replaced by a vision of softer hips… and probably firmer muscles. B's body was now in my mind.

I suddenly became acutely aware of the fact that her body was on my mind a lot, even when I was with Puck. I mean, "with" Puck, with Puck. I'm pretty sure the only reason I even mildly got off when I was under his much-too-quick, panicked thrusting was because I had such a vivid imagination of B's body. The noises she makes. What her sweat tastes like. What she tastes like… gotta get off this train of thought, Lopez. No time tonight for a cold shower. I groan, closing my eyes even tighter, as if that could push the thought of Britt out of my mind. I had tried so many other things to get her out of it, and none of them work. Maybe closing my eyes tighter would. Who the fuck knows.

I'm totally gay. I know it. I keep trying to explain it away, but I know I am. Nothing with anyone else has ever remotely come close to what B and I have shared, even though that was always strictly without feelings. I always slammed that door when the opportunity presented. I had about a million different lines stored in my back pocket to feed to B if she ever looked like she was getting too involved. I used many of them. Seriously, I need to stop whining like a fucking kicked puppy. I forced her into her choice. I can deal. It may be hard, but whatever. I still get B as a best friend. I know Stubbles McCripple Pants will never understand her like I do.

I sigh, one last time. No more feeling sorry for myself. Can't do anything to change what's going on, right? Right. I deeply inhale, just to get the deepest breath of B that I can before I move her. I smell cinnamon and vanilla, with a slight bit of some kind of candy smell. I don't know how she does it, but B always smells a little bit sweet like candy. I know all of her products, and none of them smell like what she does. It's just her.

I roll over so I'm facing her and start softly blowing in her face. I blow on the little hairs that are falling on her forehead, causing them to tickle her. I reach my hand over and run it down her arm, softly tickling her all the way down to her waist. It's gonna take more than this to wake this girl up… My hand slides to the hem of her shirt and I feel a little guilty. This is how I know I have feelings for her, strong ones. Before I realized I was like, Nicholas Spark's in love with her, I wouldn't have ever thought twice about touching her, in any way.

I slide my fingers under the hem of her shirt to her oh so warm skin. I blow in her face one last time and begin to run my fingers up her side, feeling her ribs under my fingertips. I say her name and run my fingers up and down, softly tapping them as I move them. I repeat her name again, close to her ear this time. She moves a bit, I know I'm getting through. Takes an elephant to pull her from dreamland, though.

I place my whole hand, flat, against her rib cage. My thumb is kind of caressing the fabric of her bra. I shudder, knowing how close I am to something I want… I squeeze a little with my fingertips and bring my lips to her ear and speak softly, sing-songing her name. "Baby B… Britts. B! Wake up…" I feel her stir, and pull my head back. Her sleepy eyes meet mine. She lazily smiles. "Hi, Sanny."

"Hey," I say, through a chuckle. "Sleep well?"

She nods at me. I tell her what time it is, and she freaks out a bit and reaches her phone from the ground. "Ah, crap." She has like 2 missed calls and a few texts from her parents. And it looks like some from Wheels. I can't even think his name, I hate it so much. Bitter much? Her parents know where she is, and it isn't like it's the first time she's fallen asleep here… or been in the middle of something else… that's kept her from going home, but like any good parent, I'm sure they're still nervous that she isn't home when she didn't say she was going to spend the night. At least, I can imagine that's what a good parent would do. My mom didn't seem to give a flying fuck. I enjoy the free rein, though.

"You going to stay? You've still got that spare uniform here and we can stop at your house quick in the morning if you need anything. Q's driving me, we can all go together?" I look at her. I know she's going to say no.

She meets my eyes, yawns, and fires off a text to, presumably, one of her parents. I've been kind of forcing, not really forcing, but planting the idea in her head that I don't want her spending the night lately. In fact, last night was like the first time in a couple of weeks, which for us is insanely long. I don't want to have her in my bed with me, tangled up in me, when I know I can't scratch the itch I've had since I was like three… or something. It's so hard to hold her but have her be the one that's leaving in the morning for someone else. I didn't really realize that I had just asked her to stay without even making it seem like I didn't want her to. In fact, as I played it back in my head, it was kind of like I was telling her all the reasons why she should stay. Besides, you know, the "I'm in love with you" one.

"Yes. I've missed spending the night over here." There. That weird-ass eye sparkle again. What did that mean? "Race you upstairs!" I chuckle and slowly move off of her, taking my time. As soon as I'm off enough so she won't hurt me, she bolts up and races off towards the stairs. I'm actually excited she'll be spending the night. Just 'cuz I can't necessarily keep it doesn't mean I won't test drive it… I shake my head, chuckling again, knowing I won't do anything of the sort. I can think about it though, right? We'll cuddle, I'll pine, she'll sleep. Done deal.

I stand and stretch, noting that I feel no twinges of soreness in my neck or back. She has magic fingers and I don't get sore while laying on her. Add that to the list of reasons why Brittany S. Pierce is perfect for one Santana Lopez. Oh my god, I seriously need to stop. I flip off the TV and the DVD player, fold the blanket, and set it on the back of the couch.

I walk to the foyer to turn off the light and make sure the door is locked. It is, and the spare key B used to get in is sitting on the table. I'll have to remember to put that back tomorrow for the next time that I get locked out. I check the kitchen to make sure nothing is out of place. Even though my mother probably won't be back tomorrow, it's still habitual. There's a reason I have a phobia of actually using things in my house like a real person would.

Everything seems right, so I trod up the stairs towards my room, turning off the hall light as I go. B peeks her head out at me, mouth foamy with toothpaste and my toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. She's wearing my t-shirt again. Seriously, she ninja took it away and ninja brought it back again. I have no idea where she hid it. She's got some sleep shorts on, mine as well.

I change as she finishes brushing her teeth and we swap places in the bathroom. I hear her turn off the room light and click off the lamp. I do my bathroom stuff and by the time I get back into my room, I figure that she's probably asleep.

She isn't, but she's close.

I climb into bed next to her, happy with how she warms my side. She's always done this, since we were kids. She'll lay down where I normally lay until I come to bed. She's always claimed she was just making it warm for me, but I've seen her try to ninja sneak a sniff of my pillow. Never called her out on it, though. She moves over, making room for me. She rolls over to face the wall, but leaves her hand draped backwards over her body to, of course, link pinkies with me. I shuffle up to her, but don't super cuddle. I'm not needy, come on.

Also, since we were kids, we've done this thing before we fall asleep. Kind of like a tradition, when we both remember. We're allowed to ask each other one question and the other person has to answer honestly. We've never really gone to far or weird places with it. B's questions are usually about animals or favorite colors or favorite airplane foods (yeah…) and mine follow the same path. Simple. Fun. Like us. There have only been a few serious ones in our friendship, but never about our "relationship." Neither of us has ever gone there.

She squeezes my pinkie and I know she's so close to falling asleep. Her breathing is already shallow and I can tell when she's close to drifting off. I wondered if she would remember a question. It had been awhile since we'd soberly slept in the same bed. I squeeze back. Night, baby B.

I hear her voice whisper out to me, soft, yet thick with sleep. "If you were a dolphin which ocean would you pick? I'd totally pick the California one. I'd be a tan dolphin." She's stumbling over her words; I know she's barely with me.

"I'd pick the same one you were in, B. We would totes be the hottest tan dolphins ever," I whisper back. She doesn't respond. Her breathing is even slower, and I swear I hear a little snore come out of her. She doesn't snore unless she's dead tired. I snuggle just a little bit closer. I swear I'm not being desperate… I just want to feel a little bit more of her. I'm immediately jealous of how easy she can fall asleep.

I know my question. Might as well ask it. I barely whisper it out. "Why didn't you pick me, B?" I lightly kiss her back and close my eyes to sleep. I know it has to be late. Practice is going to be a fucking bitch tomorrow. I start to drift off to my own dreamland.

Next to me, B blinks away the smallest tear, forcing her eyes shut for sleep.

My last thought: I swear I feel her pinkie grip mine tighter.