Chapter 6

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The afternoon came quicker than expected, and students were getting grabbing their things and leaving, or staying after for clubs or sports.

Remy stood outside his classroom, waving at students as they walked by. He looked across the hall to see that Oliver was still in his classroom.

Walking into Oliver's classroom, Remy stopped when he saw Oliver dancing around the room, headphones in and music blaring. Remy approached Oliver when he stopped dancing and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Holy shit!" Oliver yelled, not aware that someone was in the room with him. "What is with you scaring me?" Oliver said, turning and facing Remy while taking his headphones out.

"Sorry, you looked busy with your dancing." Remy smiled.

"Why are you here? Don't you have a date to get ready for?" Oliver snapped, turning back around, picking up dirty paintbrushes.

Remy shook his head. "I would but she's not my type."

Oliver turned around to face Remy. "What do you mean she's not your type?" Oliver asked, confused by what Remy had just said.

"She's just not my type." Remy shrugged.

"Well, what is your type?" Oliver asked, feeling himself becoming curious.

"Men." Remy smiled at Oliver as he responded.

"Oh," Oliver said, a shocked expression on his face.

"I thought you knew." Remy rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand. "I thought it was kind of obvious."

"If you haven't noticed, I don't pay attention to things. And, since when did you have a tattoo?" Oliver asked, noticing that Remy had a small tattoo on his right wrist.

"Oh, this?" Remy pointed to his tattoo.

"Yes, that. When did you get it?" Oliver asked.

"I've had this since college graduation. You want to see it?" Remy asked.

Oliver moved closer to Remy, grabbing his wrist to look at the tattoo. The tattoo was a set of small numbers, 1851 to be correct.

"What does it mean?" Oliver asked, seeing as there was no clear meaning behind it.

"It's for my grandfather." Remy started to tear up, remembering the loss of his grandfather. "He and my grandmother raised me, and he just passed away a few months ago." Remy wiped his tear and continued to explain the tattoo.

"1851 is the model of gun we would shoot after breakfast on Sundays, a Remington 1851." By now, Remy was sobbing.

Oliver, not knowing what to do, dropped the paintbrushes in his hand and pulled Remy in for a hug. "I'm sorry I asked, pretty boy."

Remy nodded, not being able to speak.

They stayed like this for a while, just soaking in each other's company. But, they were unaware that a student had been standing in the doorway, watching this happen, for a good 10 minutes.

The student slowly backed out of the room before running down the hallway, screaming, "I SHIP IT SO HARD!"

Both Remy and Oliver, hearing a student yelling broke away from their minute-long embrace.

Remy looked at the floor, not wanting to let Oliver see how red his ears were turning.

"You don't have to look at the floor. I know how red your ears get when you get flustered or embarrassed. Remember, we were in the same dorm room for half a year, and I kinda flirted with you the whole time." Olive said, smirking a little.

"Yeah, I remember," Remy responded.

"Then stop hiding them! You're acting like I haven't seen how adorable you are with red ears."

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