Traveling Together

**Note that this story is inspired by my previous story, "Traveling Alone." I've written this story as its own, independent tale--a story that explores what happens when you unexpectedly run into someone from your past. But the previous one provides additional insight into the characters' lives and perspectives. Enjoy!**

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Traveling can sure suck sometimes.

Man alive. it was like I was being hit with everything at once. Bad weather had delayed the first leg of my flight... and then, once we finally took off, continued to make it impossible for the flight attendants to do any kind of food or beverage service while we were in the air. The kid next to me was insanely squirrely, and his mom essentially spent the entire time in an anxiety-fueled panic, which by the end started spooking even me. The overall delay was bad enough that I missed my connecting flight--

even though the fucking plane was right there!

--and I couldn't get another until much later in the day.

Aaargh.

The thing was, I wasn't flying for the sheer joy of it--I was going to a work-related conference. Everything had been carefully timed. This stupid delay was going to blow out my chances of making tonight's opening keynote and would cut deeply into the reception that immediately followed. And that networking opportunity was more important to me than most of the break-out sessions and other fluff they were going to throw at us the following day. At this point, I was wondering if it was worth it to go at all.

Damn it.

Fuming, I decided to make my way over to the SkyLounge--the relative quiet there would give me a chance to plan my next steps, and maybe I could at least get some work done so the morning wasn't a total waste.

As I approached the entry, I could see a group of suit-clad businessmen were making their exit. Cool... hopefully, this would open up some spaces and give me a chance to set up camp.

Huh. You know, it's kinda funny... I mean, walking towards them, the good-looking guy in the middle caught my attention. That in and of itself was surprising; lothario that I am, it's usually good-looking

women

who attract my roving eye. But this guy stood out. Radiating... well, not exactly

command

, but definitely a sense of confidence, which was particularly evident in the way the others looked at him. It sounds like such a weird thing to say, but he was... well,

manly.

In that best, classic sense. Easy masculinity with strong precise gestures and displaying a clear sense of purpose. I'd guess I'd put him in his 30s, like me. Even in his suit, you could tell he took care of himself, with a nice athletic build. A regular Harry Hotspur. Huh. His fine, longish hair was swept back, giving him a playful, casual, even impish look, despite his aura of strength. A tight, corporate beard. But the really curious thing was his eyes. They were darker--maybe brown? It was not evident from the distance--but with a crackle of life to them. And goddamn he was

handsome

. Aw shit, can I legit call another guy "handsome?" But... there it was.

I mean, the whole thing was odd... I can't imagine having ever crossed paths with this burgeoning corporate titan, but he almost seemed familiar. Strangely enough, he almost looked...

...he... looked...

...almost...

...he looks like...

Oh God.

Jesse?

Oh. My. God.

No! Impossible! There's no way... what was I thinking? Not after all this time, all these years. No. I mean, he didn't match the memories of that man, not exactly but... yeah? Older. Coming into his own. But... I couldn't... he couldn't... No! Yes? Wait. I can't get ahead of myself... there's no way it could actually be...

Despite my mind telling me it couldn't possibly be Jesse from 17 years ago, I was dimly aware that however unconsciously, my pace forward had rapidly increased, right along with my heart rate. By the end I think I was sprinting. My mind was desperately trying to stop me, to make me think logically. My body, however, was in full rebellion... instinctively, furiously outstripping my mind.

Jesse?

Jesse?

The movement of my approach must have caught the guy's eye, which casually drifted over in my direction before gliding back to his companions...

Then he stopped. His head snapped back towards me. Mouth frozen in mid-word.

No doubt. No one else would have started like that. No fucking doubt in the world: Jesse.

Jesse.

A man seared into my memory forever.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Thunderstruck by the recognition my body slammed to a halt, directly in front of him. Jesse. A man who had years ago shattered my happy, contained universe. A man with whom I...

...I had shared...

...shared...

Oh God.

We stood there. Gaping at each other. Unbelieving.

"

Noah?

Is that... Goddamn, is that

you?

"

There was an awkward pause as we stood there in befuddled shock. Do I... shake his hand? Do I....

Jesse solved the issue by slamming into me with a bear hug that about took the wind out of me. My arms enfolded him. Instinctively remembering the feel of him, after all this time.

And my body involuntarily shuddered. To its core.

The

feel

of him... feeling the same...

weight

of him that had so staggered me. The weight and feel of a man's body. And with it, the feel of that hug... oh God. I was feeling those same arcs of electricity from before. That same... the feeling... inside of me...

But it was more than just the feel of him. As my face lodged against his, right where his ear met his neck... amidst the pressure of his arms, and the wild electricity coursing through us, I could...

...I could...

...

smell

him...

It was a scent that had been so comprehensively, so ineffably seared into my DNA that the lightest trace of it ripped apart memory, ripped apart composure, ripped apart all conscious thought. Somewhere deep inside me, doorways into the hidden recesses of my body and mind, rusty and immovable from disuse, suddenly blew open, letting in long-forgotten sunshine into the secret places of my being. I could feel it physically. An avalanche of images and sensations.

That scent of him,

dusky

, when we first bro-hugged, living large on an incredible day way back when. That scent of him,

hungry

, later that night when we staggered home after striking out with the ladies at the nightclub. That scent of him,

primal

, later still when against all expectation I was pressed against his body and....

Shit, what was I thinking? A sense of propriety jolted me back into the here-and-now. We pulled apart. I tried to focus, to make sense of the riot of confused thoughts and emotions that were buffeting me from all sides. He was laughing. His meaty hand gripping my shoulder. "Guys!" he said, looking around to his companions, "This is Noah! I can't believe it! We met back in college, in a tiny surfing town in Costa Rica at the literal end of the road. God! We had..." I noticed a delicate pause, barely noticeable. "...a wild weekend with the best seafood, the best beach, and this insane bar that blasted out music at the threshold of pain. One of the best weekends of my life!"

The enthusiasm caught fire, shaking me out of the paralysis of shock. Just as it had all that time ago. His gusto for life once again swept me up, propelled me forward. Forcing me to match his energy. Bringing our energies together.

My mind and my mouth finally caught up with each other. "God we thought we were hot stuff!" I gushed. Jesse's eyes flashed with humor. "Jesse and I thought we were a pair of real Casanovas! It was a crying shame both of us struck out at that bar, leaving us to drown our sorrows with rum so bad it tasted like kerosene!"

Everyone laughed, Jesse most of all. And as they started busting his chops, it struck me that this was the first time I ever mentioned that weekend out loud. Ever. To anyone. Seventeen years, sealed deep. But now blasting free at last.

I looked at him. Time had been good to him. As I first noted, he filled out that suit nicely, and the way it hung on him I could tell that much of his athletic frame was still very much intact. His face was...more angled. Harder even, despite the boyish smile. No longer a 20-year-old's face.

But damn... he's still the best-looking man I've ever met in real life.

Damn.

But, what do I say now? Does he remember me? I mean, okay he obviously remembers me, but does he...

remember

me? Do I live rent-free in his head, the way he has lived in mine?

"Jesse, I can't believe it. So... well, how have the last few hundred years or so gone? And hey, where are you heading off to?"

"Noah, my man, we seem to make it a habit of passing like ships in the night. We're heading to Pittsburgh for a big sales pitch. In fact, we're just heading to the gate now; we'll probably start boarding in the next 15 minutes or so."

"Ah," I said, trying to disguise how crestfallen I was. "My plane got delayed, and I'm stuck here maybe through dinner. Work is sending me to Miami for a training conference." Shit. Fifteen minutes? No time at all. Clasping at anything I could, just to hold onto the moment just a minute longer, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Do you mind if I walk to the gate? I'd got nothing but time."

Jesse gave the slightest of pauses as he looked at me, but then jumped in, "Hey man, absolutely. Guys, why don't you go ahead. Wow, Noah, I can't believe it's you. It's too bad we can't grab a drink and catch up. At least we'd have better rum than we had in that shithole of a nightclub!"

His group stated moving, but we dropped back.

And... silence.

Damn. I spent the first few years after our fateful meeting wondering what I would say to him if I ever saw him again, even knowing there was likely no way we'd ever cross paths. Hell, for a time I wished I could see him again so fervently, so achingly badly... as if I could somehow will a reunion into being just from the force of my desire. How many times had I thought through every word I'd say? Thought through exactly how things would go? Mulling every possible scenario again and again with excruciating care. And it wasn't just idle thinkery--how many times had I savagely jerked myself off thinking about what I would say, and what he would say back...?

But for all that, 17 years is a long time. Years ago, I had finally resigned myself to the fact that what we had was nothing but a stolen moment together. Just a dream. The rational side of me long ago made peace with the fact that we would never meet again. I acceded to logic, and forced thoughts of him down. Suppressed them--knowing both that it was futile to dwell on them, and that obsessing over the past would do nothing but stunt my present. In the end, I tried to block thoughts of him from my mind. I really did try. And generally, I succeeded.

Not entirely, however. Thoughts of meeting Jesse one more time would still bubble up unbidden over the years, like water from an artesian well.

But in all my thinking, in all my daydreams and nightdreams, I never, ever considered a scenario where I would meet him completely surrounded by friends and co-workers as he dashed off to catch a plane. How could I say...

what

could I say in these few fleeting minutes, in front of an audience? What, after all this time, did I even

want

to say? Hell, what did I even feel? My feelings... so jumbled. My memories spinning.

Was he as disoriented as I was? Shit... had he just as ruthlessly locked away his memories, his feelings? Had he spent the last 17 years trying to forget what happened? Or did he, too, studiously remember that it had been exactly 17 years since we said goodbye?

Shit. Noah, you're overthinking things. The clock is running. Forget your grandiose plans and long-suppressed fantasies--just

talk

to the guy. We didn't have long.

"It's really good to see you again, Jesse... you look great! Great! I mean, well... yeah, you look great!" Ugh.

That's

all I could say?

"You're looking good yourself! Looks like you hit the gym regularly." Somehow, I guess the banality of my conversation hadn't put him off. Not yet. Think, Noah... think!

"What? No... I have a total dad bod!" What the fuck, Noah? What did you say that for? I tried to smooth things over. "I... mean, I try. The gym helps. It's a place where I can let my thoughts go and... you know, keep me grounded. Plus... um... I like working out." Oh God. Not any better.

"Yeah..." he mused. He sounded somewhat distracted.

Okay, I couldn't help but observe there was... I don't know, a hesitancy in our conversation. Like we were fishing for what to say. Damnmit. That had never happened with us before. Hell, way back when, he was the easiest person to talk to. Is he scared? I'm scared shitless.

Say something

.

I tried a different tack. "But hey, look at you, all in a suit and tie. You cleaned up good! So what do you do?" Dammit. Was that all I had? Smallest of small talk?

"Ah, yeah... I'm the COO of our family business. Cue the jokes about nepotism!"

"Wait, you have a family business?" Somehow in all our endless conversations about the world, ourselves, and the future, Jesse never mentioned that his family had a business.

Jesse sheepishly looked down. "Yeah, well... back then, I was trying to escape it. Desperate to avoid being sucked in. My old man fully expected me to come on board, and I wanted nothing to do with it. That's actually how I ended up in that sea-side dive down in Costa Rica. I bailed out of college to try and find myself. My dad fixed things so I was technically on a 'gap year.' But the truth is, I was running. Running and thinking and trying and... hiding. I loved being away from all the expectations. That cage of my life. And you... well, you never treated me like the Crown Prince or anything. I was just

Jesse

. We were just running around like a couple of normal guys. I didn't... I thought... I... appreciated that. Just being myself was one of the most liberating things I'd ever done."

"Man," I breathed out. "I had no idea. You were so... put together. Like you had everything under control."

Jesse looked at me, giving me a half-smile. "You thought so? Huh. I thought

you

had everything under control. You knew what you wanted and were going for it. Had the balls to pick up and study abroad in a foreign country, and challenge yourself to take on the world. I was totally envious of

you.

"

I grinned. "If I gave any impression of having things under control, it was all youthful bravado. God we were young!"

"That we were!" he sighed, smiling. After a pause, he continued. "Yeah, I guess I... well, that trip... Huh. I guess I've always seen it as the end of my youth. After you left, I decided was done dicking around and went home. My dad couldn't have been prouder. I joined the family business and put my nose to the grindstone to get ahead. Rose up through the ranks. And, at least I can say I earned it." At this point, Jesse paused imperceptivity, and jumped topics. "But who cares about me, what about you? Man, back then you were like ready to take on the whole world! What are you up to nowadays?"

"Ah. Where to start? Well, stayed with international relations and economic development, and even got a job in the government. But I hated the restrictions and the fact that my life was constantly at the mercy of whatever political winds were blowing. I got a chance to join a consulting group, with much better pay, and am still in the thick of it. Helping communities around the globe."

"Hey man, that's great!" Jesse enthused. "That's absolutely perfect for you. I remember you talking about wanting to make a difference in the world... man, it made your eyes shine. And you totally nailed it!"

I chuckled. "You... remember all that? God, I was such an idealist back then. Now it feels like I'm nothing but a bitter cynic, drowning in red tape and warning people of every little thing that's going to go wrong. A fucking Cassandra."

"Nah, man. I refuse to believe it. You're a romantic at heart. Sure, maybe you've been burned a few times, but that's only because you care so much."

I... didn't even really know how to respond. It was so surreal. I mean, at first, I was scared to think Jesse wouldn't even remember me. But... he did. I mean, it was almost like... like, he was holding onto a vision of me, my best self. A vision of myself that I had stopped seeing in the mirror. A vision of me untouched by disappointments and compromises. Of caring too much and getting burned for it.

I turned the tables on him. "Okay, but isn't that the same thing for you? You were so... curious. Always reaching. You were all restless energy, as if you couldn't wait go out and make your mark on the world. I mean, just spending time with you I felt like I was on the adventure of a lifetime. Like maybe, even a guy like me could do something... um..." I trailed off, not sure what I was saying. Not sure where my mind was. Certainly not sure where his mind was. Finally, I concluded with a generic "...yeah, it was great."

There was a natural pause. I wasn't sure if I'd overstepped. In my discomfort, I decided to rip the band-aid off about something I had noticed right away. "So, I see a wedding ring on your hand. I'm guessing you found the right girl?"

Jesse drew a veeery long breath. "Yeah," he said, without a whole lot of conviction. "That was the other way my family roped me in. Bernadette and I were high school sweethearts. We drifted apart in college, somewhat by design... I mean, how can you spend your whole life with a person you've been dating since you were both 16? We agreed to date other people, but I knew my family had pegged her as the girl I would one day marry. From the best family. With the right connections. The right hobbies. After I got back from my extended roadtrip, my dad all but ambushed us by having this little soirée to re-introduce us. It made sense. We were the perfect match, and everyone was so happy for us. Both our families pushed hard. So, I agreed to settle down with her. It works well for us; she has her job, sits on a couple of nonprofit boards, keeps a great loft downtown for when she... when she needs it." The thought kinda trailed off. He roused himself after a moment. "We have two kids, boy and a girl... here!" Jesse called up photos on his phone and passed it over. Good looking kids. In fact, they looked just like him. Lucky. I noted he didn't show me a picture of his wife. "What about you?"

"Ah, here are my kids. My oldest is 15." He obligingly looked at my pictures and made an appropriate fuss over them. "But, I'm divorced, several years now."

"Ah man, I'm sorry," Jesse responded. From the tone in his voice, he meant it. "A couple guys on my team went through that the past year, and it really sucked. I know the whole process really takes a toll on you." His head bowed. Then softly, "Sorry to hear that. Really."

"Thanks, really. But... it was for the best. Funny, we started well. Got together right after I graduated college. She got pregnant, and... well, it seemed like the right thing to do. Things worked for a while; but in the end, we probably shouldn't have gotten married in the first place. We work out much better now, co-parenting the kids. She's got a new guy in her life, she likes him, the kids like him, and hell even I don't mind him. I'm happy for her, truly. But me? I'm... still looking."

Jesse turned wistful. "Things sure turned out differently than we expected."

I reflected. "It's funny, you essentially called that trip the end of your youth. I guess, I... well... I've always seen it... as a start, not an end. I chuckle about you thinking my job is a natural extension of my personality. Like the culmination of who I am. That trip really brought all that into focus. It made me... well, I guess it made me brave enough to go after what I wanted. Yeah, some things like the marriage didn't work out, but I've never regretted seizing the day. I think a lot of that came from... being with you. You really rubbed off on me."