A/N: Hello everyone!

So, with Drifter coming to an end soon, I figured that I needed another story to replace it, right? :P This story is a little something that I started working on just for fun with no real intention of posting, but here we are! It's on the shorter side, around ten chapters (give or take a few), but I hope you all enjoy!

Glad you made it. See you at baggage claim. :)

I smiled at James' text, relieved it hadn't been along the lines of sorry, couldn't make it or something. He wasn't flaky like that, and it would have been seriously out of character for him to bail on me, but with the way my life had been going for the last couple of months, I was taking nothing for granted-not even my best friend coming to the airport to pick me up. Or letting me live with him until I got my shit together, even after he hadn't seen me in five years.

Guilt jabbed me in the gut. I'd all but ghosted James five years ago, and still he was picking me up and taking me in.

Man, I'm gonna owe you so big, I thought as I reread his text. As if I didn't already. At the very least, he was probably going to want an explanation for me disappearing on him. And I supposed I owed him that much, even if the thought of that conversation made me want to throw up.

One thing at a time. Get off the plane. Go meet up with him. Settle in. And then...then talk. Eventually. Fuck my life.

The plane lurched to a stop at the gate, and as soon as the seatbelt light went off, people jumped out of their seats and started popping open overhead bins. Clear back here in row thirty-nine, it seemed pretty pointless, but that didn't stop anyone.

I was shoehorned in by the window, so I didn't bother getting up. It wasn't like I could stand anyway-coach was clearly not designed for anyone over about five feet tall, and if I stood now, I'd be hunched over to keep from clocking my head on the bin.

My whole body ached from sitting the past few hours, and that ache seemed to intensify as the forward rows started clearing out and people filed off the plane. Just a few more minutes, and I could stand and stretch.

At least the flight was over. I'd made it. All I had to do now was get up, collect my crap, get to baggage claim, collect the rest of my crap, and meet up with James. After that…

I sighed, deflating a bit and leaning against the rigid seatback. I was here. I was in Seattle. So...now what?

As I took off my seatbelt, I glanced at my left hand, momentarily puzzled when my ring didn't click against the buckle.

Oh. Right.

I wasn't wearing it anymore. Hadn't worn it in weeks now, but I still wasn't used to that thick gold band being gone. It seemed like such a small thing to even notice, given how chaotic my life had been lately, but under this much stress, every little thing registered. My lack of a ring was just one more thing on the heaping pile of shit to obsess over. And it was less stressful than worrying about if the new job would work out, how I'd manage to get a car and a new place, if I could still find my way around the Seattle area, if James was angry at me over disappearing, if-

God, Kendall. Get a grip. One thing at a time.

Shaking myself, I tamped down the fresh anxiety prickling along my spine. I had time to figure things out. Today's priority had been to get to Seattle and settle into my temporary home. I was halfway there. Everything else could sit tight until tomorrow.

My seatmates moved out of the row, and I pried myself up as well. After a couple of minutes, it was our turn to make our way up the aisle. I tried not to glare at the first class seats. The upgrades had been relatively cheap. A hundred bucks or so, if I remembered right.

Tempting, especially for all that extra legroom, but I couldn't justify it. Not with a divorce-in-progress, rapidly depleting savings, and that minor detail about being between jobs.

Okay, I technically had another job lined up-I started a week from tomorrow-but until my paychecks actually started rolling in, I was going to continue budgeting and spending as if I were unemployed.

So no first class upgrade. Even if that meant folding all five-eleven of me into a seat designed for a hobbit.

After a bit more shuffling, I was off the plane. I strode through SeaTac International, thrilled to be up and moving. The aches and knots loosened with every step, and my heart fluttered with...shit, was that excitement?

Yeah, it was. My life had been utter chaos for the last few months, and things I enjoyed had only served to remind me how crappy I felt, and thus made me feel worse.

But suddenly the prospect of seeing James-my best friend since elementary school-had me walking a little faster. And smiling. And nervous. And, yeah, excited.

We'd been joined at the hip until we'd graduated high school. College had taken us to other states. His career had brought him back to Seattle while my marriage had kept me in Chicago. Whenever I'd come to visit, we'd always made a point of meeting up, and we rarely went more than a few months without seeing each other.

And then I'd stopped going to see him. Stopped talking to him on the phone. Our only connection had been on Facebook, and I'd nearly unfriended him so many times, I was queasy with shame just from thinking about it.

When all was said and done, we'd gone five years without seeing each other in person. Without really staying in contact at all besides that passive presence in each other's newsfeeds. If not for social media, God knew if I'd have ever been able to find him again.

One thing was for sure-he wouldn't have reached out and offered to help me.

I don't deserve you, James.

The final stretch to baggage claim was an escalator, and at the top, people were gathered around, watching for whoever they were meeting, and-

There.

Holy shit. There he was.

Smiling down at me, arms folded on the chest-high railing overlooking the escalator, was James. His hazel eyes sparkled like they always had, and the five o'clock shadow that had been in some of his recent Facebook photos looked ever better in person. Or maybe I was just that thrilled and relieved to see him.

How the hell did I go five years without you?

Well, no time like the present to start making up for it.

He grinned as the escalator brought me closer. "Hey, man!"

"Hey you." I smiled back, heart thumping and my throat suddenly tight. As soon as I was clear of the top of the escalator and out of everyone else's way, James threw his arms around me and hugged me tight. I dropped my bag, closed my eyes, and held him.

He'd always given the best hugs. Somehow, we'd always fit together perfectly, and after all this time, and after all the hell I'd been through recently, his enthusiastic embrace was exactly what I needed. He held me so tight I could barely breathe, and I just didn't care.

"Oh my god, I missed you." I said.

"I missed you, too." He said into my shoulder. Without letting go, he added, "How are you doing? How was your flight?"

I groaned. "Don't ask about the flight."

He pulled back, frowning at me. "That bad?"

"That bad. But it's over now. I'm ready to get out of here."

The smile came back to life, and he gestured past me. "Let's see where your bags will come out, then."

Fortunately, it was only a couple of carousels down, and by the time we joined the thickening crowd, the bags were starting to appear. Sometimes it wasn't so bad, being one of the last to deplane. At least I wouldn't have to wait long for my damn suitcases.

In theory, anyway. The first showed up almost immediately. The second wasn't far behind. The third, however, took its sweet time, and as bag after bag that wasn't mine appeared, I prayed like hell it hadn't been lost. With my luck lately, I wouldn't have been surprised. I just wasn't sure if I could deal with yet another hiccup while I tried to start my new life.

I glanced at the two suitcases standing beside James. "Those will fit in your car, right? I didn't even think to ask if-"

"Relax." He winked. "You know I've always got room for your junk in my trunk."

A lady next to him scowled, and I chuckled, rolling my eyes before turning my attention back to the carousel. It felt good to be the target of his crude banter again.

The third suitcase finally showed up, and James and I lugged them out to the parking garage. I was still a little dubious about fitting all of this into a single car, but the trunk of James' car turned out to be remarkably spacious.

"See?" He slammed the trunk lid. "Got it all in and didn't even need lube."

I laughed. James' sense of humor obviously hadn't changed, and that little touch of normalcy-that piece of the past that had remained constant the whole time we'd known each other-eased my anxiety.

Some part of me had wondered if we'd still be able to get along. We'd spent so many years in different worlds, and hadn't crossed paths in five-what if we'd both changed too much? What if living together proved that we'd drifted too far apart and were too different and things went to shit like they had with my now ex-wife?

I already lost her. What if I lose you again?

That fear had been careening around in my head ever since he'd reached out on Facebook and offered to let me stay with him. But now, as we climbed into his car and started out of the labyrinthine parking garage, James' playful comments and easy smile settled the nerves more than he probably realized.

"So." He kept his eyes on the road as he drove down the dizzying, tightly-coiled ramp from the parking garage. "Do you want to grab something to eat? Do you need anything?" He glanced at me. "I went grocery shopping this morning and made sure everything's well-stocked but I don't really know what you eat these days." The near-frantic concern in his tone warmed me all over. That had always been him-the mother hen who made sure everyone around him was taken care of.

"I'm good. I'm just glad to be off the plane."

"I believe it. Flying is such a nightmare these days."

I just grunted in agreement. While he drove, I surreptitiously watched him, trying to be absolutely sure he was here and not a hallucination.

Oh, he was definitely there. He had a few more lines than he'd had in our younger days, and he wasn't as tanned as he'd been the last time I'd seen him.

But he still had the high cheekbones. Still had the sharp jawline. I couldn't see his eyes now because he had on sunglasses, but I'd seen them in the airport, and they were definitely etched into my mind. Still as amazing as they'd ever been.

Remind me not to go another five years without looking at you.

We finally made it to the end of the ramp, and I handed James a twenty so he could pay for parking at the booth on the way out. Once that was squared away, he got us on the freeway...which was basically a parking lot.

"What the hell?" I said. "Isn't it a little early for rush hour?"

James barked out a laugh and patted my leg. "Oh, Kendall. You really have been gone a while, haven't you?"

"Huh?"

"Rush hour has always started this early."

"Seriously? It's-" I paused as my jetlagged brain finally caught up. "Oh, right. Two-thirty means Boeing just let out."

"Exactly." He settled back against the seat, one hand resting on top of the wheel. "So it's going to be a while. If you want to stop for food or something, just let me know. There's plenty of options off ramps between here and home."

"It's fine. Honestly, I'm okay."

James glanced at me again, brow pinched with skepticism and concern. "Are you, though?"

You mean aside from guilt eating me alive over deserting you?

I swallowed. "I am. Just a bit jetlagged and stiff from that stupid seat. But I'm good. I promise."

"How about in general?"

I stared at the line of bumpers and rear windows extending into the distance, not sure how to answer the question. Things were improving, or at least calming down. I was adapting as much as anyone could under the circumstances. Nothing in my life felt remotely stable, and just thinking about that brought all the anxiety to the surface so violently I had to fight back an unexpected wave of panic.

Everything in my world had been in constant motion lately, and I was suddenly desperate to be still. Not on a plane. Not in a car. Just...not moving. Not needing to move. The last several weeks had been go, go, go, and I...fuck, I was exhausted. None of this was over, and there were wheels turning that wouldn't stop anytime soon, but was it too much to ask for an hour to catch my breath?

"You know," I said quickly. "I could stand to eat something after all." I gestured at the upcoming ramp for Southcenter Mall. "Why don't we swing in there and I'll buy us lunch?"

James didn't push the issue.

He just turned on his blinker and started crawling toward the ramp.

I'd been worried sick about Kendall, and now that he was here, that worry didn't back down at all. Oh, I still had some questions, and I still ground my teeth whenever I tried to figure out why he'd vanished on me, and I'd still cursed his name a few times in recent years, but all of that could wait. Sitting opposite him at some hipster bar and grill across the street from the mall, I ignored my menu and stared at him, more worried than angry.

He'd always kept himself in shape, and it still showed in his physique. I could see the fatigue that pushed down on his shoulders, but it couldn't hide the lean muscle underneath his snug black t-shirt. His blond hair was a little longer than it had been when I'd seen him last, and I liked it on him. The five o'clock shadow probably would have been a nice touch too, but his face was so pale and the circles under his eyes were so dark, it just made him seem tired.

He looked amazing and he looked terrible. Like time had been kind to him-he was even hotter than he'd been in high school-but life had been a dick, and now this incredibly sexy man seemed like he'd had the shit kicked out of him.

He was simultaneously pinging all those brain cells of mine that been fantasizing about him since we were teenagers, and tripping my drive to take care of him until his life was right again. I barely had room for that simmering resentment, though I knew it would probably elbow its way in at some point.

Of course I'd expected him to look like shit. After everything he'd been through lately, a physical toll was inevitable. I doubted I'd be in any better shape if both my job and my spouse had booted me to the curb in the space of a month. Who was I kidding? If I'd been through half that shit, I'd have been curled in a fetal position and begging for wine, ice cream, and death, and not necessarily in that order.

So yeah, it wasn't surprising to see him like this, but it was hard to take in. Kendall had always been so optimistic and happy. A human ray of sunshine who had somehow been the perfect friend for a prickly ball of cynicism like me.

That light had dimmed, though, and I hoped it was just the exhaustion that had dulled the shine in his eyes and made his sweet smile into something rare and half-hearted. Maybe a few decent nights of sleep, not to mention starting his new job and getting his feet under him, would bring him back to life.

Maybe he needed to get laid.

Say the word, and I will have ladies lined up outside your bedroom door.

Oblivious to me, Kendall closed his menu and laid it beside the placemat. He absently sipped his ice water and stared at the center of the table with unfocused eyes. Neither of us said a word until the waiter came to take our order.

I hadn't even scanned the menu, but I'd been here before, so I just ordered something generic-a BLT with fries-and another water. Once Kendall and I were alone again, I folded my hands on the table and broke the silence.

"Hey."

He lifted his gaze, and for the first time, I could really see the fatigue in his green eyes. Not just that, but the...emptiness, for lack of a better word. Like all the life and spark had been sucked right out of him.

I swallowed. "Tell me honestly, Ken...are you okay?"

He sighed, breaking eye contact again, and ran a hand through his hair as he sat back against the faux leather bench. "I'd love to tell you I am, but…" He shook his head. "I'm not. I'm really not."

I sat up and folded my arms on the edge of the table. "Talk to me."

"What is there to say?" His voice sounded as brittle as he looked. "My wife's gone. My job's gone." He laughed humorlessly. "I'm one lost dog away from starring in a bad country song."

"Sounds like a pretty rough patch."

"Just a bit."

Chewing my lip, I studied him for a moment. "What happened, anyway?" We'd talked a fair amount lately on the phone and on Facebook, but the majority of that had been to work out the logistics of him moving in with me. He'd been understandably focused on putting out fires, so we hadn't discussed much else.

Kendall wrapped his hands around his water glass and stared into it. "Basically, the company I was working for merged with another one, and that one is pretty much in bed with one of the big home lenders in Illinois." He sighed. "They promised they wouldn't lay off any of the appraisers, but before the ink had even dried on the merger…"

I'd meant his ex, but okay. "Was there something shady going on? Or just merger bullshit?"

"They tried to tell us it was a cost-cutting measure or whatever." Kendall rolled his eyes. "But there were some rumors. In fact, there was a lawsuit against the bank claiming their appraisers under-appraised or over-appraised houses depending on which outcome was better for them."

I cocked my head. "I thought appraisals were done independently."

"On paper, they are. But anyone can be bribed. So the appraisers who were willing to massage the numbers stayed onboard, and the rest of us were shown the door." He brought his drink to his lips and added a bitter, "Allegedly."

"Jesus. You guys should fucking sue."

He scowled, shaking his head. "The legal fees would kill us, even if we went in on it together. That, and we have no proof, and if any of us ever want to work as appraisers again, we're better off not having our names attached to a wrongful termination suit."

"Oh. Yeah." I grimaced. "Fair point."

"And anyway, I found a job out here, so I'll be fine. I really didn't want to work for the new parent company, and I was ready to get out of Chicago." He met my eyes again, his expression sad and tired. A little smile formed, which didn't help. "It was time to come home."

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. What I really wanted to ask about was his divorce, but I supposed I didn't need to. They'd been doomed from the start as far as I was concerned, and the only questions were why it had taken so long and what had been the last straw.

Which wasn't fair. Or objective. Not that I was remotely capable of being fair or objective when it came to Kendall and his relationships. After all, I'd been in love with him since our sophomore year and he was (rudely) straight. I'd made peace with that. I couldn't have him as a partner, but I was grateful to have him as a friend and I'd always genuinely wished him that best when it came to women.

So it killed me, and had for years now, that he'd married Jo. Standing beside him at his wedding, smiling through the worst heartbreak I'd ever felt, I'd had to fight the urge to grab him by the shoulders, shake him a few times, and steer him towards the row of five bridesmaids. I didn't know any of them, but at least one of them had to be better for him than Jo.

It wasn't fair. I would have literally moved mountains for this man, and he'd wound up married to her. I wasn't bitter that he was straight-I was bitter that out of millions of wonderful women on this earth, easily a hundred a whom I would have personally set him up with, he'd had to marry that one. It wasn't fucking fair to love someone this much and have no choice but to sit back and watch them fall for people who didn't deserve them. Like Jo.

And I hated that he was hurting over her. He deserved to be happy, and hopefully he would be, but right now, he wasn't. Even having him back in my life wasn't a big enough silver lining if it meant that he was miserable.

Kendall exhaled, absently swirling his glass so the ice clinked against the sides. "By the way, I know I've said this about a hundred times already, but thank you. For putting me up and everything. The prospect of getting back on my feet is a lot less daunting now."

I smiled. "You're welcome. You know I've always got your back."

I'd do anything for you.

A lump rose in my throat. I really would have done anything for him, especially if it meant getting him out of this awful funk. Staring across the table at him now after he'd inexplicably pulled away from me half a decade ago, though, I realized just how true those words were.

The worst part was that despite everything, all those feelings I'd had back then were still just as strong, if not stronger, today. Just like when we were teenagers, I would have sold my soul for him to even look at me as something more than a friend. But if that wasn't possible-or even in some parallel universe where it was possible-I could think of literally nothing I wouldn't do for this man.

Shifting in my seat, I forced back my emotions and gazed into his eyes. "So, you're planning on staying in Seattle now?"

"As long as the new job holds out." He smiled a bit more genuinely. "I'm kind of looking forward to it, actually. The divorce and all that shit has been rough, but it's good to be home, you know?"

I smiled back. "Well, circumstances notwithstanding, it's good to have you home."

Even if having a front row seat to you finding someone new is going to be torture.

Done! So, Kames have been reunited after being apart for five years!

I would love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, as well as if you happened to have a favorite part/moment!

Again, I hope you all enjoyed! I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up, but it will more than likely be up sometime this weekend. Maybe... :P

Until next time!

-Epically Obsessed