Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 212: When Jealousy Wears a Tie.

The corridor stretched quiet and sterile, the kind that made every footstep sound like a confession.

By the time Luca reached the third floor again, his pulse was pounding more from nerves than the stairs.

Noel’s office was just one turn ahead.

One more step and anyone could see him.

He froze on the landing, coffee bag in one hand, paper cup sweating through the other.

*Okay,* he told himself. *Think.*

He pictured it—walking in, pretending to be some delivery guy, maybe muttering, "Hey boss, you forgot this." No, too casual. He wasn’t supposed to know what Noel forgot.

He tried again, acting out the line under his breath. "Uh, Mr. Noel, someone ordered this for you."

He grimaced. "Right, because that doesn’t sound shady at all."

The frustration bubbled up.

He turned toward the wall and thunked his forehead lightly against it. Once. Twice. "Think, idiot."

A passing intern looked over. Luca straightened immediately, pretending to examine the wall’s texture. "Great paint job," he said flatly.

The intern blinked and kept walking.

When the hallway emptied again, Luca exhaled and whispered, "Okay. Casual. You’re just... doing a favor. That’s all."

He checked his reflection in the glass panel beside the door, smoothed his hair, and squared his shoulders.

The ridiculous little pep talk almost helped.

One last bump—harder this time—and pain bloomed sharp and hot.

He groaned, clutching his forehead. "Ow—okay, that’s karma."

He was mid-self-pity when a voice floated from behind.

"Luca?"

He turned—and there was Bella, clutching a stack of papers like a weapon.

Her brows shot up at the sight of him half-bent in the hallway, coffee bag dangling from one hand, an expression that screamed *caught*.

"What on earth are you doing?" she asked, stepping closer.

"Practicing," he said weakly.

"For what, concussion?"

Luca grimaced, touching his forehead again. "Was thinking too hard. It fought back."

Bella sighed, shaking her head. "You’re unbelievable."

She reached into her pocket, fishing out a tiny ointment tube. "Hold still."

"I’m fine—"

She was already unscrewing the cap. "You’re not. It’s red. If Georgia sees this, she’ll think I hit you."

She pressed her thumb gently against the spot, dabbing the ointment with surprising care.

PThe touch stung, and Luca hissed softly through his teeth.

"Yeah, yeah, you deserve it," Bella said, half-amused, half-annoyed.

"Ow—gentle! You trying to erase my face?"

"Stop being dramatic," she muttered, leaning closer to blow lightly against his forehead. "There. Better."

He was about to joke back when her breath brushed his skin, cooling the sting.

That’s when everything stopped.

A shadow moved at the top of the stairwell.

Noel.

He froze mid-step, one hand still on the railing, his eyes locked on the scene below—Bella standing close, Luca’s head tilted toward her, her hand at his face.

Something in his chest shifted, a quiet, unfamiliar ache that carried both heat and cold.

He hadn’t meant to come down.

He’d only planned to drag Luca out for lunch before the idiot starved himself.

But the moment stretched too long, and jealousy curled sharp beneath his ribs.

He descended the last few steps, voice even but edged with steel.

"What are you two doing?"

Both of them startled. Bella’s hand jerked back like she’d been caught stealing.

"Ah—oh, um, Luca hit his head," she stammered, holding up the ointment like evidence. "I was just—helping. It looked bad, so I—"

He stepped closer, his jaw tight. "Move aside."

The words weren’t loud, but they were final.

Bella blinked, startled by the tone. "I—yeah, sure."

Noel’s gaze flicked from her to Luca, unreadable.

Then, without a word, he held out his hand.

"Give it."

Bella blinked. "What?"

"The ointment."

She handed it over, lips pressed tight, and stepped aside.

Noel moved closer—too close—the faint scent of his cologne cutting through the antiseptic air.

His fingers brushed Luca’s chin, tilting his face up.

The touch was gentle, but the tension between them hummed like static.

"You can go in," Noel said without looking at Bella. "Luca will join you."

Bella didn’t argue. She mumbled something about the printer and slipped away into the office, the door clicking softly behind her.

Silence settled between them like dust.

Noel’s eyes flicked up, sharp. "How did you hit yourself like that?"

"I was... thinking."

"Thinking doesn’t usually involve head trauma."

"Yeah, well, I’m creative."

Noel’s expression barely shifted. Then—*tap*. His finger flicked lightly against Luca’s forehead.

"Ow!"

"That’s for being careless," Noel said flatly. He flicked him again. "And this—for letting her touch you."

Luca blinked, startled—then a slow, teasing grin spread across his face. "Wait... are you jealous?"

Noel didn’t answer. He just crossed his arms, gaze flicking aside, jaw working.

Luca laughed under his breath, leaning closer. "You are. Oh my god, Noel—you’re actually jealous."

Noel flicked him once more, sharper this time. "That one’s for talking too much."

Luca groaned dramatically, rubbing his forehead. "Do you realize you’re being obvious right now?"

Noel’s eyes finally met his—a quiet glare softened by something warmer. "Then stop giving me reasons to be."

"That’s adorable," Luca said softly.

*Tap.* "Shut up."

Luca laughed now, leaning closer until their breath mingled. "Oh, Noel?"

Noel’s gaze softened but his mouth stayed firm. "You’re lucky we’re at work."

"Or what?" 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

For a moment, neither of them moved.

The air buzzed between them, sharp and quiet, the way it always did when restraint met affection.

Then Noel exhaled, shoulders loosening just slightly.

He reached out, taking the paper bag from Luca’s hand. "You brought this for me?"

"Yeah," Luca said, tone casual, but his grin gave him away. "Since you were too busy to eat."

Noel looked down at the coffee cup, the snack.

The faintest smile ghosted his lips before he said, almost grudgingly, "Next time, text me first."

"Next time," Luca said, stepping back with a smirk, "maybe answer faster."

Noel shook his head, trying and failing to hide the warmth in his eyes. "Go. Before someone sees."

"Sure thing, boss," Luca said, already backing away. "Oh, and—" he tapped his own forehead, "—you owe me one forehead rub."

Noel’s lips curved just barely. "Go, Luca."

As Luca turned to leave, he caught Noel glancing down at the coffee again—soft-eyed, conflicted, and quietly in love.

And for Luca, that was enough.

The hum of the printer filled the air—uneven, stuttering, like it was refusing to cooperate.

Bella frowned, jabbing the buttons again. "Why does this thing hate me?" she muttered, leaning down to squint at the tiny screen flashing *paper jam*.

Luca stepped into the office just in time to hear her muttering.

"Because you threaten it too much," he said, his voice carrying that teasing calm that made everything sound effortless.

Bella whirled around, relief flashing across her face. "Thank goodness. I thought Noel wouldn’t let you out of his sight."

Luca blinked, heart skipping, but he recovered fast. "Why not?" he asked casually, stepping closer.

She shrugged, waving a hand. "Georgia asked me to print this out—the joint review, yours and mine. But this thing—" she smacked the printer lightly "—is testing my patience."

"You look like you’re about to murder it," Luca said, a grin tugging at his lips.

"Don’t tempt me," she muttered, hands on her hips.

"Move," Luca said, gently nudging her aside. "Let me show you how a civilized person handles office tech."

Bella crossed her arms, pretending offense. "Oh, please. I’ve done this before."

"Sure," he said, glancing at the empty tray. "Except you forgot the paper."

She blinked. "What—seriously?"

Luca chuckled under his breath as he loaded the tray. "You’re hopeless."

"Hopelessly overworked," she shot back, rolling her eyes but smiling now.

The door creaked open.

Noel stepped inside.

The air shifted—just slightly, but enough for Luca to notice.

He was holding an iced Americano and the small brown bag—the snack Luca had bought earlier.

He didn’t move toward them, though.

Just leaned against Ren’s table, the kind of casual pose that wasn’t casual at all.

Ren glanced up but caught Noel’s expression and promptly decided the ceiling was very interesting today.

Noel’s gaze was steady—too steady.

His eyes flicked from Bella’s face to the small distance between her and Luca.

Inside, his thoughts turned sharp. *She’s standing close. Closer than necessary. Why is she leaning like that?*

Then—*Did she just smile at him?*

Noel’s jaw tightened, the coffee straw bending slightly between his fingers.

Luca, oblivious—or pretending to be—focused on the printer. "Pass me the A4 paper, Bella."

The name hit Noel harder than it should have. *Bella.* The way he said it—casual, familiar. Too smooth.

*Bella, huh? Since when did he start calling her that?* His thoughts soured quickly. *Your boyfriend is right here, Luca, and you’re busy calling another girl by her beautiful name?*

Bella turned just then, her gaze accidentally meeting Noel’s.

Her breath hitched. The man looked like he could order a corporate assassination with that stare.

"Uh—let’s, uh, hurry," she stammered, turning to Luca. "Georgia’s waiting."

Luca followed her lead, pretending he didn’t notice Noel’s eyes boring holes into the back of his neck.

When the document finally printed, Bella exhaled in relief and gathered the pages. "I’ll bring Georgia her copy. You pick up yours okay?"

"Yeah," Luca said.

As they walked toward the door, Noel’s gaze followed—steady, cold, unreadable to anyone who didn’t know him.

But Luca did. He could feel the storm brewing behind those calm eyes.

Just before stepping out, Luca risked a glance back.

Noel hadn’t moved. His knuckles were still tight around the drink.

Luca sighed quietly to himself, muttering under his breath, "Jealous maniac."

Noel’s lips twitched—the smallest, briefest crack in his composure—as he murmured to himself, "Keep calling her Bella, Luca. See what happens tonight."

The printer hummed again, unaware it had just witnessed a silent, jealous war.

"Jealous?" he muttered under his breath, voice low and rough. "Damn right I am."

He took another sip, leaning back against the table, unable to stop the faint smile that tugged at his lips.

*Hopeless,* he thought.

But he didn’t stop smiling.