Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 198: Quiet Boundaries

They moved to the couch after cleaning up, the city glow spilling faintly through the blinds.

Noel sat with one knee bent, elbow draped loosely over the backrest.

Luca curled beside him, head resting against his shoulder—the air between them tender, but still fragile.

For a while, neither spoke.

The hum of traffic filled the quiet, steady and distant, like the world had forgotten to hurry.

Then Noel said softly, "Luca."

A low hum. "Mm?"

Noel hesitated, his thumb tracing the edge of Luca’s wrist—absent, thoughtful. "At work... we need to be careful."

Luca lifted his head slightly, brows furrowing. "Careful how?"

"About us," Noel said, his gaze fixed on the skyline. "Don’t let people see too much. It’s not that I want to hide you." His voice softened, weighted with care. "But if they figure it out—who we are, who your father is..."

Luca watched him, reading the quiet strain in his posture. "You think they’ll treat us differently."

"I think they’ll assume things." Noel’s eyes finally met his. "That you pulled strings for me. That I’m only there because we’re together. That neither of us earned it." He paused, his voice tightening. "And after today... after finding out the way I did, I need people to see that we belong there. Both of us. On our own merit."

Luca’s throat constricted. He understood now—this wasn’t about distance. It was about trust. Pride. Dignity.

"But we did earn it."

"I know that. You know that." Noel’s tone stayed firm, but something raw glinted behind his eyes. "But perception matters, especially in a place like that. One careless look, one touch—and suddenly it’s gossip. Favoritism. Not work."

Luca went quiet. His jaw tightened before his voice softened again. "So what... we just pretend we’re classmates?"

"Not pretend." Noel brushed a hand through his hair, gentle, instinctive. "Just... professional. Colleagues. Until we clock out."

Luca leaned into the touch, eyes slipping shut. "I can do that."

"I know you can." Noel’s thumb brushed his cheek. "And after work, when it’s just us—no walls, no rules, no distance. Just this."

Luca exhaled, a faint smile touching his lips. "Good. Because pretending I don’t look at you every five minutes might actually kill me."

That earned a quiet laugh, low and unguarded. "You’re ridiculous."

"But you love it."

Noel’s gaze softened completely. "Yeah. I really do."

Luca smiled, tracing idle shapes along Noel’s knee. "I get why you need this. You want to prove—to yourself more than anyone—that today wasn’t a fluke. That you’re there because you’re good, not because you’re dating the chairman’s son." His tone was tender, steady. "And honestly? I want to prove that too. That I’m more than just a name."

Noel nodded slowly. "We will. Together, but separately."

"It makes sense," Luca said, shifting closer until their legs brushed. "Just don’t shut me out, okay? I know we have to be careful, but you’re still the person I want to have lunch with. Still the one I want to decompress with after work."

"I’m not shutting you out," Noel said softly, arm slipping around him. "I just need us to be smart. Until we’ve both earned our footing. Until people see what we can actually do."

"How long do you think that’ll take?"

"A few weeks, maybe," Noel murmured. "Once we’ve each handled a project or two. Once we’ve proven we’re not just... decorative."

Luca snorted softly against his shoulder. "Decorative. Yeah, right."

The room settled again, the tension replaced by something warm and grounding.

Outside, a siren wailed and faded.

Luca’s fingers found Noel’s, lacing through.

"You worry too much," Luca said quietly. "But I love that about you too."

"Someone has to," Noel replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. "You certainly don’t worry enough."

"That’s because I have you for that," Luca murmured.

"Lucky you."

"Yeah," Luca whispered. "Lucky me."

The silence that followed wasn’t empty—it was full.

Full of care, quiet understanding, and a kind of love that didn’t need to prove itself.

When Noel finally murmured, "We’ll figure this out. We always do," Luca’s voice came muffled against his shoulder—

"I know. Because we always do."

And for the first time that day, Noel fully believed him.

The couch had become their quiet middle ground—neither too close nor too far from the world.

The lights were dim now, a soft amber spill from the lamp pooling around them.

Noel had leaned back, arm slung behind Luca, while Luca rested with his knees drawn up, head nestled against Noel’s chest.

The hum of the fridge, the whisper of cars below, the rhythm of two steady heartbeats—everything else faded into background noise.

Luca spoke first, his voice small, almost lazy. "You know... we didn’t even plan to sit here this long."

Noel looked down at him, lips curving faintly. "You’re acting like I tied you down."

"You didn’t have to." Luca’s tone was half-tease, half-truth. "You just sit there looking all composed, and suddenly, I forget time exists."

Noel chuckled softly. "That’s your excuse for everything."

"It’s a good one." Luca shifted, his cheek brushing Noel’s shirt. "You make staying still feel like an event."

For a beat, Noel said nothing—just watched the way Luca’s lashes trembled against his skin, how the city glow caught in his hair. "You’re impossible," he murmured finally.

"Mm." Luca smiled against him. "But you still keep me around."

Noel’s hand found the back of Luca’s neck, thumb tracing lazy circles there. "Yeah, I do." His voice dipped lower, something gentler threading through it. "Because somehow, the noise stops when you’re near. Even when I don’t realize I need quiet."

That made Luca tilt his head up a little, eyes half-lidded, searching Noel’s face. "You say things like that, and then you expect me to just... stay still?"

Noel’s laugh came quietly, soft and fond. "You’re not exactly still now."

Luca hummed, brushing his nose against Noel’s collarbone. "That’s your fault too."

"Everything’s my fault, huh?"

"Only the good things."

Silence again, but this one softer, heavy with comfort.

The kind that asks for nothing but to stay.

Noel felt Luca’s breathing even out against him, the rise and fall syncing with his own.

"Hey," Noel murmured after a while, fingers threading through Luca’s hair. "We should move to bed."

Luca mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like no.

Noel smiled helplessly. "You’ll wake up with a sore neck."

"Then fix it for me in the morning," Luca said, eyes already closed, voice trailing off like a fading melody.

Noel looked down at him—the quiet curve of his mouth, the warmth pressed against his chest—and gave in. "Fine," he whispered, barely audible. "We’ll stay here."

He leaned his head back, eyes slipping shut, the steady rhythm of Luca’s breathing pulling him toward sleep.

Outside, the city kept its restless pulse.

Inside, two hearts found a slower one—steady, unhurried, enough.

The morning light spilled through the glass front of Infinity Global Partners, catching on the marble floor and the soft chrome edges of the lobby.

The second day. The hum of conversation was low, polite, with a faint scent of brewed coffee drifting from somewhere down the hall.

Luca and Noel stepped in side by side, the silence between them calm this time—not cold, not awkward, just... steady.

The storm from yesterday had settled into quiet understanding.

Luca adjusted his ID badge, glanced briefly toward Noel, who was already pressing the elevator button.

When the doors slid open, both paused.

Mr. Max was already inside, phone in hand, suit immaculate as ever.

He looked up, surprise flickering across his features for half a second before a polite smile replaced it.

"Morning," he greeted, voice smooth, easy. "Heading up?"

"Yes, sir," Noel replied. His tone carried the usual calm respect, professional but not stiff.

"Come in, then." Max shifted slightly, giving them space.

Luca stepped in first, offering a small nod, then Noel followed, standing beside him but with the faintest, careful distance between them.

The elevator doors closed with a soft sigh.

The ride was quiet at first, the kind of silence that hummed with things unspoken.

Max tucked his phone away, glancing sideways at Noel.

"Settling in well?" he asked, tone casual, but his gaze attentive.

"Yes," Noel said. "The team’s been helpful. Yesterday went smoothly."

"That’s good to hear." Max smiled faintly. "You handled those documents well. Caught things even I missed."

Noel gave a small nod. "I just paid attention."

"I noticed," Max replied, his voice dipping just slightly, the compliment weighted more personally than intended.

Then, as if catching himself, he straightened a bit. "That’s exactly what we need here—people who don’t overlook the details."

Luca stood quietly, gaze flicking from one to the other, saying nothing.

His expression was unreadable—neutral, almost polite—but inside, there was that sharp awareness that only someone in love could have.

He could feel the difference in Max’s tone, that quiet admiration trying too hard to sound professional.

The elevator dinged softly at the third floor.

Luca hesitated when the doors slid open.

His floor.

He looked back at Noel, eyes meeting for a brief second—an entire conversation in silence. I’ll see you later.

Noel gave a small nod. "Go ahead. I’ll text when I’m done."

Luca stepped out, but not before noticing Max’s slight tilt of his head toward Noel, the ease in his smile that wasn’t there for anyone else.

He didn’t frown. Didn’t let it show. But the air felt heavier as the doors closed between them.

Now, just Noel and Max.

The elevator resumed its ascent, the hum of cables faint against the hush.

Max turned to him again, more relaxed now that they were alone.

"I didn’t get to say it properly yesterday," he said. "You’ve got a good eye, Noel. Most people your age are quick to impress—too quick. But you read like someone who’s used to responsibility."

Noel’s lips curved faintly, polite but distant. "I just like getting things right."

"That’s rare," Max said, tone softer this time. "Rarer than it should be."

The elevator stopped at the fourth floor, the doors opening to a quieter space—their department.

The hum of printers, faint voices, light catching on glass partitions.

Max gestured toward the open office with a small smile.

"After you."

Noel stepped out, posture steady, collected.

But something about Max’s presence lingered—a quiet awareness that he was being observed. Not evaluated. Seen.

And for the first time since joining the company, he felt a different kind of tension at work—not from competition or nerves, but from attention that was polite, professional... and yet somehow too gentle to ignore.

He didn’t say a word about it.

Not yet.

Not when he still had to prove why he was here.