Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 321: Just Us, Just Home

The apartment felt warmer when they came back.

Not because of the groceries or the soft evening light slipping through the windows—because Luca was here, moving around like he belonged in every corner of Noel’s quiet.

Noel set the bags down on the counter, already sorting. Vegetables on one side. Dairy on the other. Pantry items lined up with quiet precision.

Luca leaned against the doorway, watching like it was the most interesting thing he’d seen all day.

"You’re organizing," he said.

Noel didn’t look up. "I’m unpacking."

"That’s organizing with commitment."

Noel slid the tomatoes into the fridge, then shut the door with a gentle click. "It saves time later."

Luca hummed, amused. "Everything you do saves time."

"That’s the point."

"And yet," Luca said, stepping closer, "you still agreed to come shopping with me."

Noel paused, finally glancing at him. "You insisted."

"I prioritized."

Noel’s mouth twitched. "Corporate language for boyfriend behavior."

Luca smiled like he’d take the accusation proudly.

Noel turned back to the counter. "Wash your hands if you’re going to help."

"I was going to help."

"You were going to flirt."

"I can do both, multitask."

Noel didn’t respond, but Luca caught the smallest curve of his lips as he reached for a cutting board.

The kitchen filled with soft sounds—water running, packaging crinkling, a knife tapping against wood.

Noel moved with quiet efficiency, sleeves pushed up, hair slightly messy from the walk back.

Luca hovered nearby, not useless exactly... just very Luca.

"What are we making?" he asked.

Noel opened the fridge, scanning. "Pasta. Simple."

"Simple," Luca repeated, like the word tasted sweet.

Noel pulled out garlic and an onion. "You’re disappointed?"

"No," Luca said quickly. "I like simple."

"You like expensive restaurants."

"I like you," Luca corrected, softer. "Restaurants are just... locations."

Noel glanced at him again, expression calm but warm in that way that always landed deeper than it looked.

"Then grab the olive oil," Noel said.

Luca straightened. "Yes, chef."

Noel gave him a look.

Luca held up both hands. "Sorry. Noel."

"That’s better."

He started chopping the onion, movements neat and practiced.

Luca watched for a moment, then leaned in slightly. "You look..." he paused, searching.

Noel didn’t stop cutting. "What."

"Like you know what you’re doing."

"I do."

"That’s very attractive."

Noel exhaled through his nose, something between a laugh and a sigh. "Please focus on the olive oil."

"I am focusing."

"Pour it into the pan."

Luca obeyed, pouring carefully, then turning the stove on like he was performing something important.

Noel added the onion, the sizzle immediate and soft. The smell bloomed into the air—warm, familiar.

Luca inhaled. "This already feels like home."

Noel’s hand paused just briefly. Then he stirred again, voice even. "It is home."

Luca’s gaze stayed on him. "Yeah. It is."

They worked in comfortable rhythm. Noel cooked like he did everything—quietly competent, minimal wasted movement.

Luca stayed close, handing him things before Noel even asked, mostly because he was watching so carefully.

"You’re hovering," Noel said eventually.

"I’m assisting."

"You’re hovering romantically."

"That’s my brand."

Noel shook his head, but his shoulder brushed Luca’s as he reached for the salt. Luca didn’t move away. Neither did Noel.

The pasta boiled. The sauce simmered. The apartment filled with that slow, domestic kind of peace that didn’t need to announce itself.

At one point, Noel tasted the sauce from the spoon, thoughtful. "Needs something."

Luca leaned in. "Love."

Noel turned his head slightly. "Pepper."

"Oh."

Noel handed him the grinder.

Luca peppered the sauce with exaggerated seriousness.

Noel watched, amused despite himself. "That’s enough."

"You said it needed something."

"It needed pepper, Luca."

"I’m giving it dedication."

Noel took the grinder back, fingers brushing Luca’s. Luca didn’t miss it. He never missed it.

Dinner came together simply—pasta, sauce, a little parmesan, two plates set down side by side.

Noel carried them to the couch. Luca followed with glasses of water like it was a date.

They sat close, knees touching. The TV stayed off.

For a while, it was just the quiet clink of forks and the soft city hum outside the windows.

Noel ate neatly. Luca ate like he was still watching Noel more than the food.

"What," Noel asked finally, without looking up.

Luca smiled. "Nothing."

"That wasn’t nothing."

"I like this," Luca admitted.

Noel’s expression softened. "This?"

"Yeah." Luca gestured vaguely. "You cooking. Me pretending to help. Being here."

Noel twirled pasta slowly, considering. "It’s normal."

Luca’s smile turned gentler. "That’s why I like it."

Noel’s gaze lifted to his. Warm. Steady.

"Eat," Noel said quietly. "Before you start talking like you’re in a movie."

Luca laughed under his breath. "Too late."

Noel’s foot nudged Luca’s lightly. Luca nudged back.

And they kept eating, shoulder to shoulder, the kind of evening that didn’t need fireworks. Just warmth. Just them.

The dishes sat in the sink, half-washed, but neither of them cared yet.

Noel had his sleeves rolled up, hands wet, water dripping along his forearms.

The smell of soap and pasta lingered, mingling with the faint warmth of the kitchen.

Luca leaned against the counter, towel in hand, drying slowly, eyes on Noel.

"You’re methodical," Luca said softly.

Noel glanced over his shoulder, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I like it clean."

"I like that you care." Luca stepped closer, letting his shoulder brush Noel’s. "I like doing this together."

Noel didn’t answer, just dipped the sponge into the soapy water, but his eyes lingered.

Luca reached over, taking the sponge gently from him, letting his fingers brush Noel’s wet hands. "We make a good team."

Noel let the contact linger, warm and quiet. "We do."

They washed in silence for a while, side by side, hands occasionally touching as they passed dishes, their movements in sync without planning.

When the last plate was done, Noel dried his hands and stepped back, stretching slightly.

Luca’s hand lifted, fingers grazing Noel’s jaw softly, thumb brushing over the edge of his lips. "You smell like pasta and olive oil."

Noel exhaled, a quiet laugh escaping. "And you smell like mischief."

"Only a little," Luca admitted, brushing a strand of hair behind Noel’s ear. "Mostly you."

The evening light shifted, spilling amber across the kitchen.

Luca took Noel’s hand, lacing fingers together, and they moved toward the couch.

Noel sat first, tucking his legs beneath him. Luca settled beside him, letting Noel rest against his chest.

The cat, sensing the calm, jumped onto the couch, curling at their feet.

Luca’s hand found Noel’s again, fingers weaving, thumb brushing lightly over the back of his hand.

"You know," Luca said softly, "we don’t need anything else tonight."

"No," Noel replied, resting his head against Luca’s shoulder, eyes closed. "We don’t."

Luca’s lips brushed the top of Noel’s hair, slow, careful. "Just this. Us."

Noel exhaled against him. "Perfect."

They didn’t move for a while, letting the city fade, letting the night fold around them.

The cat purred softly, a rhythmic hum, matching the quiet beat of their togetherness.

Luca whispered, low and steady, "I love you."

Noel’s hand tightened slightly. "Yeah I know."

They stayed like that, night stretching gently, the world reduced to just them.

The apartment softened as the night deepened.

The kitchen lights were off now, only the living room lamp left on, casting everything in a warm, lazy glow.

Noel stayed tucked against Luca’s side, their legs tangled without thinking about it.

Luca’s hand moved slowly, tracing small circles over Noel’s wrist.

Noel murmured, half-smiling, "You’re quiet."

"I’m full," Luca said.

"From dinner?"

Luca’s lips brushed Noel’s hair. "From this."

Noel’s breath left him in something like a laugh, quiet and fond. He shifted just enough to look up. "You’re very romantic tonight."

"I’m always romantic."

Noel raised a brow.

Luca’s mouth curved. "Fine. I’m romantic when you’re paying attention."

Noel’s fingers slid lightly into Luca’s shirt collar, smoothing it down even though it didn’t need fixing. "I’m paying attention."

Luca’s gaze held his. Warm. Unhurried. "Good."

The cat stretched, then hopped down from the couch with the dignity of someone excusing themselves from a moment too intimate.

Noel watched it go, then leaned back into Luca again. "Should we go to bed?"

Luca made a sound of mild protest. "Bed means Tuesday comes faster."

"It’s already coming," Noel said, amused.

Luca sighed dramatically, but his arms tightened around Noel anyway. "You’re too responsible."

"And you’re too dramatic."

"I’m balanced."

Noel’s laugh was soft. "That’s not what balance means."

"It is when I say it."

Noel shook his head, smiling as he shifted to stand. "Come on." He held out a hand.

Luca looked at it for a beat, then took it, letting Noel pull him up.

They moved through the apartment slowly, barefoot, comfortable in the quiet.

The bathroom was bright compared to the rest of the apartment.

Noel reached for his toothbrush, then paused when Luca leaned beside him, shoulder pressing close like it belonged there.

Luca picked up his own toothbrush, glanced at Noel through the mirror.

Noel’s eyes flicked sideways. "What?"

Luca’s mouth twitched. "Nothing."

"That’s not nothing."

Luca started brushing, entirely innocent.

Noel watched him for a second, then shook his head with a smile, brushing too.

They stood like that, side by side, the most ordinary thing in the world made softer just because it was shared.

Noel spat, rinsed, then leaned his hip against the counter. "You’re going to hate tomorrow morning."

Luca groaned around toothpaste. "Don’t talk about it."

Noel’s eyes warmed. "I’ll wake you up gently."

"I won’t move."

"You always move."

Luca rinsed, then turned his head slightly, looking at Noel like he was considering something serious. "I move for you."

Noel’s expression softened in a way that wasn’t showy. Just real.

He reached up, thumb brushing lightly at the corner of Luca’s mouth, wiping away a bit of water. "You’re very sweet tonight."

Luca leaned closer. "I’m sweet every night."

Noel gave him a look.

Luca smiled. "Most nights."

Noel’s laugh was quiet, and he leaned in, pressing a brief kiss to Luca’s cheek. "Come on. Bed."

The bedroom was dim, sheets slightly rumpled from the morning, the air cool and calm.

Noel slid under the covers first, settling in with a sigh.

Luca followed immediately, like he’d been waiting for permission.

The moment he was in, he moved closer, arm looping around Noel’s waist with practiced ease.

Noel shifted back against him naturally, like it was muscle memory.

Luca’s face tucked into the space between Noel’s neck and shoulder.

For a while, they didn’t speak. Just breathing. Just warmth.

Noel’s fingers found Luca’s hand, lacing together.

"You okay?" Noel murmured, voice already sleepy.

Luca’s answer was immediate, muffled against his skin. "Always. Here."

Noel’s thumb stroked gently over Luca’s knuckles.

The city outside was distant, muted. The apartment held only the quiet sound of them.

Luca pressed a slow kiss to Noel’s shoulder. Then another, softer.

Noel hummed, smiling faintly. "Goodnight, Luca."

Luca’s arms tightened, not possessive—just certain. "Goodnight. Stay."

"I’m staying," Noel murmured. Like it was obvious. Like it was the simplest truth.

Luca exhaled, long and content, and they fell asleep tangled together, the kind of closeness that didn’t need words.

Just steady. Just home. Just love.