Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 197: No More Secrets

Mr. Max leaned against the edge of a desk, scanning through the files and notes spread before him.

He didn’t rush—his gaze swept carefully over their efforts, pen tapping once against the paper before he finally looked up.

"Not bad for your first day," he said, his voice carrying that rare softness again. "There’s work to polish, of course, but you handled yourselves well. Go home, rest. Tomorrow we’ll do better."

The students let out quiet sighs of relief.

A few exchanged smiles, others packed quickly, eager to leave the weight of the day behind.

Downstairs, the lobby buzzed with the end-of-day shuffle—heels clicking, phones ringing, people filtering toward the doors.

Luca was already there, standing stiff near the elevator, his hands buried too deep in his pockets.

His heart thudded when the doors slid open and Noel stepped out, calm as ever, though his eyes found Luca instantly.

"Goodbye, see you tomorrow," their groups chimed, dispersing one by one.

Bella waved dramatically, winking at Luca on her way out, but he barely noticed.

His gaze was fixed on Noel.

When the crowd thinned, Luca stepped forward. His throat tightened. "Noel, I—"

Noel didn’t slow his stride. He brushed past, voice low but firm. "Not here. Let’s go home first."

The words weren’t harsh, but they left no room for argument.

Luca’s mouth closed on the apology that sat heavy on his tongue.

He nodded once, almost invisible, and fell into step beside him.

They pushed through the glass doors together, the hum of the city evening spilling over them—the rush of traffic, the faint glow of streetlights flickering on.

Luca kept his head slightly bowed, shoulders tense, while Noel walked steady, unreadable.

The silence between them was louder than the noise around them.

The city moved around them—cars sliding past, a couple of cyclists weaving between lanes, the buzz of neon signs flickering awake.

Yet between Luca and Noel, silence stretched, unbroken.

They walked side by side, but it didn’t feel like together.

Luca’s steps were slower, measured, his sneakers scuffing faintly against the pavement as though dragging guilt along with him.

His hands stayed clenched in his pockets, his shoulders drawn in, every line of his body careful not to brush against Noel’s.

Noel’s stride remained even, steady, eyes forward.

He didn’t glance at Luca, didn’t hurry, didn’t slow down either.

His calm wasn’t cold—it was something else, something heavier.

He carried it in his silence, and Luca felt every second of it press against his chest.

The walk stretched—ten minutes, maybe more—but Luca couldn’t tell.

Time blurred when your heartbeat was louder than the traffic.

Every turn of the streetlamp threw shadows across Noel’s face, and Luca caught himself staring, hoping for some softness there, some small crack. None came.

By the time they reached their block, the weight of the day and of everything left unsaid clung to Luca like rain he couldn’t shake off.

He swallowed hard, but said nothing.

His voice stayed trapped where his guilt lived.

The apartment door clicked shut, sealing them into silence.

Noel set his bag down by the entrance, not bothering with the hooks, and headed straight for the kitchen.

The tap hissed as he turned it on, filling a glass he didn’t need.

The water ran longer than necessary, the sound steady, masking the quiet between them.

Luca lingered by the counter, keys still in hand. "Noel—"

"Give me a second." Noel’s voice was even, but the edge beneath it was unmistakable. He shut off the tap.

The silence that followed pressed down harder.

He drank slowly, back still turned, then set the glass down with a soft clink.

When he finally faced Luca, his expression was controlled, too controlled—the kind of restraint that said everything words didn’t.

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

The keys dug into Luca’s palm. "I was going to—"

"When?" Noel’s tone stayed quiet, but each word carried weight. "Before the interview? After the offer? Or never at all?"

Luca’s throat tightened. "I didn’t think it... mattered."

"Didn’t matter?" A hollow laugh left Noel, bitter instead of amused. His hands gripped the counter behind him. "We spent weeks preparing. You drilled me until midnight so I wouldn’t fall apart in front of the panel. And the whole time—you knew."

"You were incredible in that interview—"

"Was I?" Noel’s jaw flexed. "Or did it not matter what I said because the chairman’s son walked in beside me?"

"That’s not what happened."

"Then what happened, Luca?" Noel’s voice cracked, sharp and raw. "Because from where I stood today, it looked like everyone already knew except me. Do you have any idea what that felt like? To stare at that portrait, see his face, and realize I’ve been working at your father’s company all day without knowing it?"

Luca dropped his keys onto the counter with trembling fingers. "I know how it looks—"

"Do you?" Noel crossed his arms, gaze steady and unflinching. "Because I thought we earned this. I thought I earned this."

"You did—"

"Stop." Noel’s hand lifted, halting him. "Just stop."

The word silenced Luca more than a shout would have.

His hands fell uselessly to his sides.

"You should’ve told me," Noel said quietly.

"I know." Luca’s voice was small, hoarse. "I should’ve. Before we even applied. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to say no."

"It wasn’t your choice to make." Noel’s voice softened, but the ache in it was worse than anger. "It affects me, Luca. It affects how I feel about every step I took to get here."

"You deserve this," Luca said quickly, desperately. "You earned it. I didn’t ask for favors, I didn’t pull strings. We sent the same application, got the same interview, the same emails. You were chosen because of you. Not me."

His eyes pleaded across the distance. "I just... I couldn’t stand the thought of us being split up. Different companies, different schedules, hardly seeing each other all summer. I was selfish. That’s all it was."

Noel studied him for a long moment, face unreadable.

The kitchen light threw shadows under his eyes, made him look older, tired. "You still should have trusted me with the truth."

"I know." Luca’s shoulders slumped, the fight leaving him. "From now on, I will. Everything. No more hiding."

For a long beat, only the refrigerator hummed between them.

Then Noel’s hand lifted—hesitant at first_covering Luca’s where it rested on the counter.

"I don’t want to be there because I’m your boyfriend," Noel said.

"You’re not." Luca’s reply was firm, unwavering. His thumb brushed Noel’s sleeve. "You’re there because you’re good. The boyfriend part is just... my favorite bonus."

Despite himself, Noel’s mouth twitched_barely, but enough to soften the air. "A bonus?"

"The best one." Luca’s smile was small, tentative. "Lunch breaks with you. Seeing your face across the office. Not missing you for six months straight. That’s all I wanted."

Noel shook his head, but his hand tightened on Luca’s. "You’re an idiot."

"The worst kind." Luca’s smile widened, shaky with relief. "But the most well-meaning idiot alive."

"Debatable." But Noel’s voice had lost its sharpness. He sighed, weariness settling into his frame. "You’re on probation, though."

"Understood."

"And tomorrow, you’re telling me everything else I need to know about that company. No half-truths. No surprises."

"First thing." Luca nodded quickly. "Full disclosure."

The tension between them loosened, just enough for breath to return.

Noel pulled back slowly, rubbing at his temple.

"I need a shower," he murmured. "Then maybe food. I can’t cook tonight."

"Thai?" Luca asked carefully.

"Thai’s fine. And don’t forget the soup."

Luca let out a short laugh, the sound breaking the heaviness. "Soup’s on the list. Anything else for my sulking boyfriend?"

"You’re still an idiot." Noel’s voice was dry, but softer now, almost fond.

"The most idiotic." Luca’s grin flickered, genuine this time.

Noel disappeared down the hall, the bedroom door shutting softly behind him.

The apartment fell quiet again, but lighter.

Luca pulled out his phone, fingers still trembling as he scrolled through the menu of their usual place.

He already knew Noel’s order by heart.

No more secrets, he promised himself. Not with Noel. Not ever again.

Steam drifted from the bathroom door when Noel came out, hair damp, an old T-shirt clinging faintly to his shoulders.

He didn’t look angry anymore, just... worn out. His voice was low when he spoke.

"Smells like curry."

Luca looked up from the table where takeout containers sat open. "And soup. Extra lemongrass, because you said not to forget."

Noel’s mouth twitched faintly, but he didn’t answer.

He slid into the chair across from Luca, reaching for the chopsticks.

They ate in silence at first, the kind that wasn’t cold—just careful.

The clink of utensils, the hum of the fridge, the muted traffic outside—it all filled the gaps where words used to be.

After a few minutes, Noel spoke quietly. "You ordered the spicy one for yourself again."

"I always do," Luca said, almost smiling. "You keep saying you’ll try it one day."

"I keep lying," Noel replied, and the smallest smirk finally appeared, fleeting but real.

Luca exhaled softly, like he’d been holding that single breath all evening. "I’ll take what I can get."

They kept eating. The tension was still there—thin as a thread—but it didn’t hurt anymore.

Noel leaned back a little, eyes half-lidded. "You didn’t have to wait for me to eat."

"I wanted to," Luca said. "You had a long day."

"So did you."

"Yeah, but mine was my own fault."

Noel looked up at him then, properly this time. "You already apologized."

"I know." Luca’s tone was quiet but steady. "And I meant it."

"I know you did."

Another silence, softer now, the kind that settled rather than pressed.

Noel pushed his bowl away and rested his chin on his hand. "You really think I deserved to get in?"

"I know you did," Luca said immediately. "You’re one of the best people I know at what you do. And I’m not just saying that because I’m—"

"My boyfriend?" Noel cut in, one brow raised.

"—hopelessly in love with you," Luca finished anyway, a half-grin breaking through.

Noel tried to hold his expression, failed, and laughed under his breath. "You’re impossible."

"I know," Luca murmured.

The laughter faded into a quiet hum between them.

Luca reached across the table, fingers brushing Noel’s wrist.

Noel didn’t pull away this time.

"Next time," Noel said softly, "just tell me everything. Even the messy parts."

"Deal." Luca’s thumb traced slow circles against his skin. "No more secrets."

Noel nodded, eyes on their joined hands. "Good. Because I hate feeling like we’re on different sides."

"We’re not," Luca said, voice barely above a whisper. "Never will be."

The words hung there, honest and simple.

Noel didn’t answer right away; he just turned his hand, fingers threading through Luca’s, holding on.

They stayed like that long after the food went cold—just breathing, the quiet settling in around them like peace.

Love doesn’t end in the middle of an argument — sometimes, it starts again there.