Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 206: Where the Day Begins

Morning sunlight spilled across the small dining table, warm and honey-colored, catching on the steam that rose from their coffee mugs.

The world outside was barely stirring, but inside, everything felt slow and alive—like the day was theirs before work claimed it.

Luca sat across from Noel, already dressed, sleeves rolled to his forearms.

He was halfway through his own toast but more focused on the man sitting in front of him.

Noel, neat as always, looked put-together—tie in place, hair brushed—but his plate was barely touched.

Luca sighed, pushing another forkful of scrambled eggs toward him. "Eat."

"I’m eating," Noel said without moving.

"No, you’re pretending to."

Noel gave a quiet groan, leaning back in his chair. "You sound like my mom."

Luca smirked. "Your mom doesn’t cook for you like this."

That earned him a look—half amused, half resigned. "I said I’m full."

"You’ll say that now," Luca countered, cutting a small piece of toast and offering it to him again. "Then you’ll forget lunch because some report or meeting hijacks your brain."

Noel’s lips twitched. "You make it sound like I’m a child."

"You kind of are before coffee."

A small chuckle escaped Noel before he could stop it. "You’re impossible."

"Efficient," Luca corrected, tilting the fork closer until Noel gave in and took the bite. "See? Productivity."

Noel chewed slowly, shaking his head. "You know, one day, I’m going to stop letting you boss me around like this."

Luca leaned forward, chin resting on his hand, watching him with a teasing grin. "No, you won’t. You like it."

Noel looked up, eyes narrowing just enough to hide the faint smile tugging at his mouth. "Dangerous confidence for a Monday morning."

"Danger keeps life interesting."

Noel huffed a quiet laugh, finally taking another bite on his own. "You really won’t stop until I finish, will you?"

Luca’s voice softened. "Not when it comes to you."

That stilled Noel for a moment—just long enough for something unspoken to pass between them.

The kind of quiet that wasn’t awkward, just real.

Then Luca reached for his coffee, breaking the spell with a grin. "Now finish that before I start spoon-feeding you in front of the neighbors."

"God forbid," Noel muttered, but the corner of his lips curved again.

By the time they cleared the table, the light had grown brighter, morning fully awake.

And as they grabbed their things and headed out the door, it felt less like they were going to work—more like they were stepping into the world together, side by side.

The streets were already coming alive—distant horns, the rhythmic click of heels on pavement, the faint hum of conversation blending into the morning air.

Luca walked beside Noel, their steps unhurried, in sync.

The city wasn’t loud yet, not fully awake; it gave them just enough quiet to exist in their own small world.

Luca nudged Noel’s arm lightly as they crossed the street. "You sure you don’t want to switch to my floor? My team could use your face—might inspire productivity."

Noel didn’t look at him, but the smallest curve touched his mouth. "Your team would stop working altogether."

"Ah, so you admit you’re distracting," Luca teased.

"I said they’d stop working. Not me."

"Semantics," Luca murmured, eyes flicking toward him. "Still sounds like jealousy waiting to happen."

Noel’s silence was the kind that carried a smile beneath it.

By the time they reached the building, the sun had fully climbed, turning the glass panels of the company’s façade into molten gold.

Employees streamed in—badges tapping, greetings exchanged, coffee cups in hand.

But when they stepped through the doors, everything in them seemed to tighten just a little, like slipping on another skin.

Here, they were colleagues. Here, they knew the lines by heart.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and they stepped inside.

It was empty—mercifully, for once.

Luca leaned back against the mirrored wall, hands still tucked in his pockets. "Feels like a small win," he murmured.

Noel pressed the button for the fourth floor, his reflection catching in the metal. "Enjoy it while it lasts."

"Oh, I am." Luca’s tone dropped, playful, low. "Privacy’s a luxury here."

Noel glanced at him, the look both warning and warm. "Don’t."

Luca tilted his head, eyes bright. "I wasn’t going to do anything."

"You were thinking it."

"I think about a lot of things," Luca said easily.

The elevator hummed upward, soft and steady.

The faint scent of Luca’s cologne mixed with Noel’s aftershave—familiar, grounding.

A beat of silence passed between them, the kind that hummed with unsaid things.

When the light blinked for the third floor, Luca straightened, giving Noel a look that lingered just a second too long. "See you at lunch."Don’t skip it this time."

Noel’s voice followed him, quiet but certain.

"Wouldn’t dream of it."

Luca flashed a half-smile as the doors slid open.

He stepped out, the sound of his shoes fading down the hall.

The doors closed again, sealing Noel inside—alone now, but still carrying that faint trace of warmth that only Luca left behind.

The elevator doors slid open on the fourth floor with a muted chime.

The morning air up here carried that faint blend of polished wood, fresh coffee, and printer ink—familiar now, grounding.

Noel stepped out, the rhythm of his shoes echoing softly across the open workspace.

Most of the desks were still empty, computers asleep, screens dark.

Only one office light glowed at the far end of the corridor.

He gave a gentle knock before stepping in.

Mr. Max looked up from behind his desk, sleeves already rolled to the elbows, a man who’d clearly been working long before the day had started. "Morning, Noel."

"Morning, sir." Noel straightened a little, the easy warmth from earlier tucked neatly away now, replaced by calm professionalism.

Max gestured toward the seat opposite him. "Sit for a moment."

Noel took the chair, setting his tablet on his lap, attentive.

"I’ll be holding a meeting with the senior board today," Max said, sliding three slim folders across the desk. "Once the rest of the team gets in, I want all of you to review these beforehand."

He tapped the topmost folder. "This one’s yours. The other two—Ren and Jace."

Noel took them, the paper edges crisp beneath his fingers. "Got it. Should we have a brief before we start?"

"That’s what I was thinking," Max said. "You already have the right instinct for structuring things—use it. Just keep it concise; we’ll cover the details during the meeting."

A quiet nod. "Understood."

Max leaned back slightly, the kind of look that wasn’t quite stern—more measuring, assessing. "You’ve adapted quickly, Noel. Not everyone finds the pace easy here."

"Thank you," Noel said simply. "It helps when the direction is clear."

That earned him a small nod from Max. "Good answer."

A faint buzz from the hallway broke the quiet—footsteps, soft chatter, the muffled sound of the elevator doors closing again.

Max checked the clock. "That should be them."

Sure enough, moments later, Ren appeared in the doorway with Jace trailing behind, both a little breathless from their walk.

"Morning, Mr. Max," Ren greeted, polite but easy.

"Morning," Jace echoed, flashing Noel a brief grin before he noticed the folders on the table. "Looks like we’re starting serious today."

Max gave a faint smile. "Every day’s serious here, Jace."

That drew a small chuckle from Ren.

Noel stood, handing each of them their respective folders. "These are your files—pre-meeting material. Max wants us to go over them before the discussion starts."

Ren flipped his open, scanning the first page. "Export partnership revisions?"

"Mm," Noel confirmed. "It’s mainly about upcoming foreign trade updates and logistics coordination."

Max nodded approvingly. "I’ll give you fifteen minutes to review. Then we’ll gather in the conference room."

"Got it," Jace said, settling into a seat, already flipping through the contents.

Ren leaned closer to Noel, murmuring just low enough for only him to hear. "You really do get the first briefing every time, huh?"

Noel’s expression barely shifted. "Just timing," he said quietly.

But his mind wasn’t on the files—not entirely.

Somewhere, on the third floor, Luca was probably flashing that easy grin, settling in with his team.

And for a brief second, Noel almost smiled to himself—before he straightened again, flipping to the next page.

Focus came first. It always had to.

The room had settled into that focused hush unique to mornings before the real rush began—pages turning softly, pens tapping, the faint hum of the city filtering through the glass windows.

Noel stood by the corner desk, his gaze sweeping through the documents, underlining sections, cross-referencing terms with a calm efficiency that spoke of habit more than effort.

Across from him, Ren worked quickly, lips pursed, the crease between his brows deepening as he muttered about inconsistent trade codes.

Jace, on the other hand, leaned back with his folder open halfway, reading with the same energy one brings to early Monday meetings—reluctant but trying not to look it.

"You know," Jace murmured without looking up, "these contracts make bedtime reading look exciting."

Ren didn’t even glance up. "That’s because you don’t read them right."

"Or maybe because you do," Jace countered.

Noel’s lips twitched, but he said nothing, his pen moving smoothly over a clause that didn’t match its translation.

The quiet stretched again, comfortably professional, until the office door opened.

Mr. Max stepped in, a tablet in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other.

He looked at them for a moment, expression thoughtful, before giving a small nod. "Good. You’re all settled."

He took a slow sip of his coffee, glancing toward Noel. "How’s the review?"

"Mostly consistent," Noel said, setting his pen down. "There’s a discrepancy in the logistics clause—language variation might affect the interpretation."

Max smiled faintly. "You caught that faster than I expected. Good eye."

Ren shot Noel a brief look—half impressed, half resigned. "Do you ever miss anything?"

Noel lifted one shoulder. "Sometimes the small things."

"Not from where I’m standing," Max said easily. Then, after a pause, he checked his watch. "It’s time."

The three interns straightened almost in unison, sliding the folders closed.

"Bring your notes," Max added. "You’ll be part of the discussion this time. Just listen, observe, and contribute if you see an opening."

Ren tucked his pen into his pocket. "Are we going to the conference room?"

"Yes," Max replied, already heading toward the door. "And remember—it’s not just what you say, it’s when you say it."

Jace groaned softly as they followed. "So... no witty commentary, got it."

"That would be wise," Max said over his shoulder, though there was amusement in his tone.

As they stepped into the hallway, the polished floor reflected their passing in muted glints of light.

The hum of other departments was distant, leaving only the rhythmic click of their steps and the low rustle of files in hand.

Ren fell into step beside Noel, whispering, "Second week and already in meetings with senior board. We must’ve impressed him."

Noel didn’t answer right away.

His gaze drifted ahead, where Max walked a few paces in front, posture composed, calm. "It’s not about impressions," he said quietly. "It’s about being useful."

Ren arched a brow. "That’s a very Noel answer."

Noel allowed a faint smile, brief but real. "Then I guess I’m consistent."

The elevator chimed, doors sliding open with a quiet swoosh.

They stepped in—Max first, the rest following.

"International business interns," Max said with a hint of pride. "Let’s make it count."

The doors closed, their reflections catching for just a heartbeat on the steel—three interns stepping into the rhythm of corporate life, one mentor already two steps ahead, and somewhere, under all that quiet professionalism, Noel carried the warmth of a morning smile that belonged to someone else entirely.