Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 204: Weekend for Two

The first thing that reached Luca was the light—soft, golden, unapologetically gentle.

It slipped through the balcony curtains, brushing over the floor, the couch, the tangle of limbs half-hidden under the blanket.

Noel was still asleep beside him, one arm flung over Luca’s chest like gravity had chosen him.

His hair was a mess, that careless kind of beautiful, and Luca didn’t even think about moving. He just lay there, watching.

The apartment was quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the distant sound of someone’s radio drifting from another building.

Luca’s fingers moved slowly, brushing over Noel’s knuckles.

He could feel the faint pulse there—steady, grounding. "You’d sleep through an earthquake," he whispered.

Noel stirred faintly, eyes still closed. "Only if you’re the pillow."

Luca huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Smooth, even in your sleep."

A faint smile tugged at Noel’s lips. "I try."

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Time stretched, sweet and unhurried, like the world outside didn’t need them just yet.

Finally, Luca sat up, his voice soft. "You hungry?"

Noel blinked himself awake, squinting at the morning light. "For food or for you?"

"Breakfast," Luca said, though his smirk gave him away. "I’ll make coffee."

Noel groaned, burying his face into the cushion. "Five more minutes."

"You said that yesterday," Luca teased, standing and stretching, his shirt riding up just enough for Noel’s eyes to catch before he looked away—too late.

Noel sighed, voice muffled. "That’s cheating."

"Then get up before I eat your share."

That got him moving. A quiet shuffle, a soft laugh, and soon the kitchen filled with the sound of clinking mugs and the faint hiss of coffee brewing.

Luca handed him a cup, their fingers brushing in passing—too brief to count, too much to ignore.

Noel took a sip, eyes half-lidded. "You make it better than the café downstairs."

"That’s because I care who drinks it," Luca said, leaning against the counter.

Noel’s gaze lingered for a beat too long. "That line would ruin you if anyone heard it."

"Then it’s good it’s just us."

Silence again—comfortable, full of everything they didn’t have to say.

Luca finally spoke, tone lighter. "So... weekend. Any plans, Mr. Workaholic?"

Noel shrugged, looking out at the balcony. "None. You?"

Luca took another sip, thoughtful. "Maybe just... us."

Noel met his gaze. Something softened between them, wordless and certain. "Then that’s the plan."

The steam from the coffee drifted lazily between them, blurring the sunlight that poured through the balcony door.

Luca leaned back against the counter, sleeves rolled to his elbows, hair still damp from a quick shower.

Noel sat across from him at the kitchen table, half-awake but smiling in that quiet, hidden way that made him look younger—unguarded.

"So," Luca said, breaking the silence, "how’s it feel? Surviving the first week?"

Noel exhaled through a soft laugh. "Like I’ve been living in a spreadsheet."

"You love spreadsheets," Luca teased.

"I tolerate them," Noel corrected, "the same way I tolerate you sometimes."

Luca grinned. "Sometimes?"

"Don’t push it." Noel’s lips curved just slightly, betraying him.

Luca took another sip of his coffee, watching him over the rim. "You know what I decided?"

"That you’re the office’s best intern?"

"That the weekend," Luca said, lowering his cup, "is just for us. No work talk, no messages, no pretending we’re just colleagues. Just you and me. Nothing else matters."

Noel looked up then—eyes catching the morning light, soft but unreadable. "You sound like you’ve been waiting all week to say that."

"I have," Luca admitted simply. "And I meant it."

Noel tilted his head, considering him. "So what’s the great plan for this sacred weekend?"

Luca feigned thought, tapping his chin. "Hmm... breakfast, then maybe you make me lunch to make up for last week—"

"Excuse me?"

"—and," Luca continued, ignoring him, "a long nap, followed by dinner with candles and something that doesn’t involve you typing while I talk."

Noel chuckled, shaking his head. "That’s your master plan? Napping and feeding you?"

"Don’t forget loving me in between," Luca said, tone smooth but eyes sincere.

Noel rolled his eyes, but the faint flush gave him away. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, here we are."

There was a pause—soft, filled with the hum of the morning, the city somewhere far beyond their quiet kitchen.

Then Noel sighed, a tiny surrender. "Fine. But we’re low on groceries. You finished the pasta last night."

"Correction," Luca said. "We finished the pasta."

"You ate most of it."

"I was emotionally recovering from being ignored all week."

Noel stared at him for a long second, then huffed a laugh he couldn’t suppress. "You’re ridiculous."

"Admit it," Luca said, stepping closer, voice lowering. "You missed this."

Noel met his gaze, a beat of stillness between them. "Maybe I did."

"Good," Luca murmured, brushing his fingers over Noel’s wrist as he passed by to grab the keys. "Then let’s go get groceries before you change your mind."

Noel rose, finishing his coffee, the faint smile still there. "You’re taking the bags."

"Of course," Luca said, opening the door. "Weekend’s for you, remember? You just follow back and let me spoil you."

Noel shook his head, amused, following him out into the sunlight. "You don’t know how to stay still, do you?"

"Not when I could be standing next to you."

The door clicked shut behind them, and the city opened up—bright, warm, full of quiet possibility.

The city hadn’t quite woken up yet.

The air smelled faintly of rain and fresh bread from the corner bakery, sunlight pooling between the tall buildings in soft gold stripes.

Luca walked with his hands tucked in his pockets, matching Noel’s pace without even thinking about it.

They weren’t in a rush—just drifting through the weekend like it was theirs alone.

Noel adjusted the strap of the reusable bag slung over his shoulder. "You sure we don’t need the car?"

"It’s just a few blocks," Luca said. "Besides, walking with you burns calories. Grocery shopping will feel earned."

Noel gave a small, dry laugh. "You’d find an excuse to make this sound romantic."

"I’m not trying," Luca said, flashing a grin. "It just happens when you’re with me."

That earned him a soft side-eye, the kind Noel gave when he wanted to look annoyed but wasn’t. "You ever stop talking?"

"Not when you’re quiet. Balance, babe. Yin and yang."

Noel shook his head, though the corner of his mouth twitched. "You’re the chaos. I’m the peace."

"And together," Luca said, bumping his shoulder gently against Noel’s, "we’re... what? A well-marketed disaster?"

"That’s one way to put it."

They passed a flower stand, the scent of lilies and damp leaves brushing the air.

Luca slowed, his gaze lingering on the flowers—sun-washed petals, soft edges, droplets of water clinging to them like they’d just survived the morning drizzle.

"You want some?" Noel asked, tone even, though there was a flicker of curiosity under it.

"For you," Luca said, almost too casually.

"For me?" Noel lifted a brow, the faintest trace of a smile threatening. "You’re going to make me walk through the city holding lilies?"

"Bold choice," Luca replied, hands slipping out of his pockets. "Suits you."

Noel exhaled, amused. "You’re not serious."

Luca tilted his head. "What if I am?"

The vendor—a woman with silver hair and a knowing smile—watched them over the counter. "He’s serious," she said, handing Luca a single white lily before he could second-guess it.

Luca paid without arguing, then turned and held it out toward Noel, the smallest hint of mischief glinting in his eyes. "You don’t have to like flowers to deserve one."

Noel looked at him for a moment longer, then took it—slowly, fingers brushing Luca’s. "You really don’t stop, do you?"

"Never when it works," Luca murmured.

They continued walking, the city slowly waking around them—bakeries opening shutters, a cyclist passing by with a coffee cup balanced in one hand.

Noel twirled the stem between his fingers. "You know people will stare."

"Let them," Luca said lightly. "They’ll just think I’m spoiling my friend."

Noel gave him that long, unreadable glance—the kind that said he knew exactly what Luca meant, and exactly why it mattered.

When they reached the corner grocery, the bell above the door chimed softly.

Inside, the air smelled of fruit and clean tiles, shelves lined in neat, colorful rows.

Luca grabbed a basket, handing another to Noel. "Divide and conquer?"

"You’d just follow me anyway."

"True."

They moved through the aisles together, that quiet rhythm of shared space—reaching for the same item, brushing hands, pretending it didn’t happen.

Noel checked the list on his phone; Luca kept slipping extras in the basket—snacks, sweets, things they didn’t need but he wanted to see Noel roll his eyes over.

"Do we really need chocolate biscuits?" Noel asked without looking up.

"Yes," Luca said instantly.

"Why?"

"Emotional support."

Noel huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You’re impossible."

"And yet," Luca said, lowering his voice as he leaned closer, "you’re still here."

The words hung there—unspoken weight tucked behind the light tone.

Noel didn’t reply, just reached for a jar of sauce and dropped it into the basket.

When they finally reached the checkout, Noel laid the lily carefully on top of their groceries, almost absentmindedly, like he’d forgotten it wasn’t supposed to be his kind of thing.

The cashier smiled, glancing between them. "Nice flower."

Noel just nodded. "Yeah... it is."

Outside, the air was warmer, the street a little louder.

Luca adjusted the bag on his arm and glanced over. "So, lunch after this?"

"Sure," Noel said. "My treat."

"Now that’s romantic," Luca teased.

Noel gave a quiet laugh, shaking his head as they crossed the street. "You’re never going to let that flower go, are you?"

"Not a chance." Luca’s grin softened, voice dipping low. "It’s the first time you took something from me without arguing."

Noel looked away, but his lips curved. "Don’t get used to it."

Luca bumped his shoulder again, light and deliberate. "Too late."