A New Perspective

Masquerade Angel: I'm glad you love Rowan! He is a cutie pie! And I feel that you may
be right about the couple thing too ;)

Lisa: Yes, there are such things as dill pickle potato chips! They're actually not that bad,
my friend made me try them once. I can't believe you know straight boys that like to
cuddle! That's adorable. Keep commenting please! I love hearing what you have to say!

Lilmissgg: That was one of the most flattering comments, so thank you!! I'm glad you
love Noah, I do too! Hope you enjoy the new chapterÉ..

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Rowan's list of things that make me gay:

1. Those glasses I wear, well they're fake.
2. I shave my armpits.
3. I'm an art student.
4. I drink Bud Light Lime
5. I try to eat a well balanced diet.
6. I'm not constantly thinking about sex.

Rowan used to say that I was the straightest guy he had ever met. But then he started
realizing things, and then started a list, and now he gets really excited every time there is
a new to add. He just keeps sniggering to himself for about an hour after the amendment.
And by the way the list is taped against the wall next to his bed. "So he can fall asleep at
night looking at it" he's so annoying.

He's just added number six to the list, normally I would be pissed at someone for making
fun of me about that, but I think he really finds the list interesting.

"So you honestly don't think about sex like all the time?" he asks contemplatively.

"No, I don't really see how it fits in my day, at how many points throughout the day is
something suppose to remind me of sex?" I ask actually wondering the answer, Rowan
can see this, and thinks about it, trying to give me an honest reply.

"I really don't know, think it changes for everyone, also, Nie, your thought process is
generally a little more mature than the rest of guys our age. In fact, a lot more mature" he
compliments me.

"So you don't think I'm like broken or something?" I ask with a laugh, even though I'm
serious.

"No, Noah, I would never consider you broken" he says sincerely.

I keep my head down and smile shyly. Hoping he can't see. He gets up crosses the room
to my bed and straddles my lap. I don't mind. "So what do you want to do today?" he
asks his fingers twirling the hair next to my ear. They travel lightly across my jawline,
and even further down my neck he tugs at the collar of my shirt and puts a cool fingertip
on the hickey he gave me the previous day. I wait. "Lookin' gooooood!" he laughs,
genuinely finding himself hysterical. I can't help but laugh in return, standing up and
flinging him over my shoulder as he shrieks my name like a five year old girl. Well that
was a bit gay. I throw him on his bed and then sit on his back so he can't move. Its
hysterical watching him trying to flail and wiggle his way out from underneath me, I cant
stop laughing. "Noahhhhhhh!!!!" he squeals from underneath me.

"That's right baby scream my name" I tell him in a faux-sexy voice, and we both laugh.
At first it used to feel really weird joking sexually with Rowan, but that's literally all
Rowan does when he is getting to know someone. He compliments them, and jokes
sexually with them, as long as they're like around his age. He's not pervy or anything,
it's just that, believe it or not Rowan's self-conscious. Way deep down under all that
"showy" confidence, he thinks people generally dislike him, until they say otherwise. So
making sexual jokes is his way of avoiding social awkwardness, and at the same time
flattering someone.

Now I kind of enjoy his jokes, and being able to joke back with him. I love humor of all
sorts, and I've never really tested out this form before. It's new to me. I like new things.

I finally get up, once I make him admit defeat. Plus I'm pretty sure my weight is actually
probably hurting him by now.

"youÉ.areÉÉaÉ..dickhead" he manages to push out in between ragged breaths.

"Why thank you Rowan!" I grin sarcastically, ruffling his hair, trying to piss him off a
bit.

He glowers at me for a second, looking like a ten year old. Cute.

" So want to go for a drive?" I ask, knowing that he always thinks this is a treat. I do sort
of feel bad for sitting on him.

His eyes light up first, eyebrows practically hitting the ceiling. "REALLY?!"

"Yeah REALLY! Do you think I would get you that excited, without following through?"
I ask turning around and searching for my shoes.

"Noooooo, you love making me happy" I can hear the smile in his voice, as I feel his
arms wrap around me from behind. I just stand still for a second, thinking about the way
he feels against me. I'm afraid of getting too used to him touching me all the time. But it
may be too late. He lets go.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

We reach my truck and I unlock it, Rowan jumps in the passenger side, and I climb into
the drivers seat. I love my truck. It's grey and big and awesome. Rowan likes it too, well
he likes that I have it on campus, and that it has passenger seat that he can fold himself
into. He loves cars, but hates driving them. Which is weird, cause Rowan can fix
anything that is wrong with a car, and knows all the car makes and models, I figured that
would make a person comfortable operating one. All I know how to do replace a tire, but
I always drive. Rowan's a nervous driver, and skittish with the gas pedal. I drove with
him once, which was enough. Also, he acts like a snippy little bitch, since he's under
stress. Me though, I love driving. Being the passenger makes me nervous, I like to be the
one in control when my life could potentially be at risk. I'm pretty damn good at driving
anyways. I've never once got in an accident or a speeding ticket.

Its beautiful outside, summer is getting really close. The air is warm, and the wind is
hardly blowing, and there is seriously not a single cloud in the sky. I love that, it always
makes the sky look like such a brilliant blue, causing me to think about what color I
would paint it. Today, cerulean blue, with a touch of white.

I roll down the windows, I never use the AC, unless I'm completely desperate, I hate
driving in cars with the windows up, it gets too stuffy and hard to breathe. The breeze
pushing in through the opening, feels good on my face as I pull out of the parking lot.
Rowan takes his shoes off as always and puts his feet up on the dash getting comfortable,
all the while looking out the window. I once asked him why he did that. He informed me
that his feet would like the chance to look out the window too, "think about it, they're
always stuck down there," he had added looking at the ground sadly. I turn the radio on
and plug in my Ipod, today's a good day for some Panic, especially since me and Row
just went out and bought their new CD a few weeks ago. I shove the disk in the slot and
Brendan Urie's voice busts through the speakers, Rowan looks over at me, delighted by
my choice.

I drive down the street, heading east, towards the coast. I see a sign for Dunkin' Donuts
and pull into the drive thru, another delighted look from the passenger seat. After a
lifeless monotone voice comes through the speaker asking if I'm interested in ordering a
Latte, I politely decline, instead asking for "one medium iced tea with extra liquid sugar,
One medium blueberry Iced regular, two Boston cream donuts and a corn muffin."
Rowan and I are a practiced duo when it comes too Dunkin' Donuts driv-thru's. Would I
like to try a Latte my ass! In this truck, we know what we want; no subliminal messaging
can penetrate these thoughts. I pay and hand Rowan the iced tea and the Boston Cream's,
he kisses my hand as I pass him the bag. I swear food, makes this kid hard. Well I guess
I'm not one to talk as I place the iced coffee in my cup holder and corn muffin between
my teeth, taking a huge bite. Fucking good shit. I litter myself with crumbs. Oops.

I drive away, choosing to take the back roads instead of highway to the ocean. Rowan is
contently sipping his iced tea and devouring his food, cream clinging to the corners of his
mouth. He's going to have to pee soon. Right after he talks his way through the coming
sugar rush. I bask in the silence while I can. But I'm lying if I tell myself I don't like
listening to him talk. All I have to do is nod my head; I love conversing with people when
it doesn't take any energy.

The road is windy, with lots of hills, my hand constantly turning the wheel, this way and
that, resulting in a full body rhythm as my foot switches between accelerating and easing
on the brake. Driving is always a form of meditation for me.

I swallow the last few bites of my corn muffin as the ocean comes into view, and
Rowan's trying desperately to lick all the chocolate frosting out from underneath his lip
rings, face screwed up in concentration. He finishes as the sugar starts to enter his blood
stream.

" THE OCEAN!" he practically yells, not from surprise, he knew where we were headed,
rather from sheer delight. " I love the ocean, I love the east coast, it's probably like the
best place in the world. You know?" but he doesn't wait for a response. I nod my head
just incase he's looking at me. " I would never want to live anywhere else. Well at least
not for like the rest of my life. I do want to travel for a while. I would love to just stay in
one place for like two months or as long as I want and then just pick up and move to a
different country whenever I feel like it. I seriously plan on finding a way to be able to do
that, when I graduate. Well I mean hopefully I'll be a published writer by then and be
making millions of dollars off of my book. What if I had a million dollars, would you
come with me, Noah?" he finally pauses looking up at me.

"Of course I would. Is that even a serious question, getting to travel all over the world for
free? In fact you should probably be writing write now, get your fucking ass published! I
want to go places" I smile at him. He giggles.

"You're totally right, I don't know what I was thinking!" he jokes. "Quick babe, turn the
car around!"

He called me babe.

He was joking though.

Not that I even care.

Wait, realization starts to creep into my consciousness. For a second I did careÉ..Why
the fuck did I care?!

Probably just because I've never been called that, never even had a nickname before
Rowan, so its just feels different to me. That has to be why I noticed it. Rowan is looking
at me confused.

"What's wrong? You don't seriously have to turn the car around." He tries to comfort
me.

" Oh I know" I force a laugh " I was just spacing out for a sec, want to take a walk on the
beach?" I can't be in this car right nowÉ.It's too nice out.

"Sure" he says easily hopping out of the car. Why can't I not just accept things as easily
as Rowan, I always have to analyze the shit out of everything? That's probably why I
loved biology so much in high school.

I exit the truck and head after Rowan, whose making a bee line towards the water.
Actually he's skipping. Sugar rush now full throttle. I run after him, wanting to feel his
excitement with him. This is why people become addicted to Rowan. He's like a little
kid, but in the best possible way. He's constantly getting caught up in his excitement, like
its his first time seeing or experiencing something, even if it's the ocean, and he's lived
twenty minutes away from it his entire life. It doesn't matter what causes his emotions, he
just likes feeling them, as much as he can. It's completely contagious.

We rip our shoes off, then socks, leaving them on the sand behind us. I take a few
moments to roll up my pant legs, Rowan just walks right in. He laughs at the look on my
face as I enter the freezing water. Then being the little asshole he is, he splashes me,
soaking my entire front. "YOU BASTARD!" I yell but, Rowan is doubled over, cracking
up. I laugh and run after him, I pick him up and throw him in the water. He gets up
completely soaked, his eyes wide in shock. Now I can't breathe, my abs seriously fucking
hurt, it's one of the funniest things I've ever witnessed. He tackles me.

Shit.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Okay, I take back what I said about it being warm out. After about a half-hour more of
fucking around in the water, Rowan and I walk back to the truck completely soaked. I
don't want to make my truck seats wet. Rowan looks at me and then down at his clothes,
wondering what I want him to do. "I guess we could just sit in our boxers, we can't get
pulled over for that can we?" I ask concerned. Rowan doesn't even take a second to
respond, ripping off his shirt and pants as fast as he can. I have to admit they are really
fucking uncomfortable. I take mine off too, looking up as Rowan shivers in the cold air,
goosebumps crawling across his skin. "Oh sorry Row" I say, unlocking the truck.

"S'okay" he says teeth and piercings chattering together. I throw our clothes in the bed of
my pick-up, they're so heavy with water that there is no chance of them blowing away.

I hop in the other side. I look at Rowan. He's curled in to himself, clutching his knees to
his chest, like a little boy. His skin is a pale contrast, next to my running tan. His tiny
muscles and bones create a terrain across his body and I can't help but notice he would be
great to paint. I catch myself staring at the way his boxers are clinging to him, but only
because, I can't believe he's actually wearing boxers. There are donkeys on them
accompanying big yellow font that read, "I hang to the left." I wonder if he does.

Wait.

Nope.

I Don't.

They're just political joke boxers, not a personal statement. I flush in embarrassment.
Rowan is too preoccupied to notice, all his concentration set on trying to adjust the vents
in front of him so that the heat is hitting him full blast. "Jeezus! I wish it was fucking
hotter in here." I turn my vents towards him; I'm not really feeling all that cold anymore
anyways.

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Sorry if this chapter feels rushed, or is in need of editing, I got lots going on, but all your
wonderful reviews make me want to update. I don't know when the next chapter will be,
hopefully I get a good amount of homework done first!!