Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]
Chapter 63: A Week to Begin

Chapter 63: A Week to Begin

The room was quiet.

Not the tense, waiting kind of quiet—but the rare kind that settles in after something changes. After a truth is spoken. After a line is crossed.

Noel stood where Luca had left him—barely an arm’s length away. The echo of their kiss still lingered between them like heat in the air. He hadn’t moved, and neither had Luca.

Their hands brushed faintly between them, not fully holding—just touching. Testing.

Luca’s gaze stayed locked on Noel, something different behind his eyes now. Something open. Gentle. Real.

Then, slowly, he looked down at the desk, reaching with unhurried fingers toward the two creased pieces of paper.

He picked one up—the one.

The fold opened with a soft whisper.

"Dear Roommate," he read aloud, his voice quiet, teasing.

"Please stop being hot while unconscious.

Sincerely, the guy who’s suffering in silence."

Noel let out a soft groan, half turning to bury his face in his hand. "Luca..."

Luca didn’t stop.

He picked up the second paper, just as slowly.

"Seriously, how can someone sleep like a baby and still look this cute?"

He laughed, the sound soft. "Damn. You really were down bad."

Noel reached for the note. "Give it back."

Luca stepped back, holding it just out of reach. "Nope. You’ve handed me some real gems over the months, but this—"

He waved the page.

"This might be your finest work."

Noel sighed, cheeks flushed. "I didn’t mean for you to read those."

"I know," Luca said.

Their eyes met again.

The teasing dropped just slightly—just enough for the silence to shift.

"I didn’t mean for any of this to happen," Noel said after a moment. "Not the notes. Not the way I started looking forward to coming back to the dorm. Not..."

He exhaled, struggling. "Not falling for you."

Luca didn’t smirk this time.

He set the papers gently on the desk behind him, then stepped closer again—this time until there was no space between them.

Still, he didn’t touch. He waited.

Noel looked up at him. "What do we do now?"

Luca tilted his head, almost smiling. "You tell me. You’re the planner."

Noel gave a breath of a laugh, then bit his bottom lip, glancing down at where their hands were almost linked.

Then he said—quiet but certain:

"Let’s not rush it. No big moves. No pretending like we’ve got it all figured out."

Luca just watched him, listening.

"Let’s try... one week. One real date. See how it feels outside these walls. No pressure. No lies. Just you and me."

Luca raised an eyebrow. "One week?"

Noel nodded, eyes honest. "Let’s take it slow. I don’t want to mess this up."

For a beat, Luca didn’t say anything.

Then he looked down. His voice was low but steady.

"You think a week is enough for me to stop wanting you?"

Noel’s breath hitched. "It’s not about wanting."

Luca met his gaze again. "Then what is it about?"

Noel hesitated. "It’s about... not losing something before it even starts."

They stood in the quiet again.

Then Luca reached out, gently tracing his thumb along Noel’s knuckles.

"Okay," he said. "A week. But I’m warning you—after one date, I might already want a second."

Noel smiled, small and real. "I can live with that."

"And for the record?" Luca added, brushing Noel’s hair back from his forehead.

"That note?"

He leaned in, voice brushing his ear.

"It was the cutest damn thing I’ve ever read."

Noel let out a low laugh, shoving him lightly. "Shut up."

Luca grinned. "Make me."

Noel leaned forward, forehead resting against Luca’s. "Not yet."

They stayed like that for a long moment—just breathing, just being.

Outside the dorm window, the wind stirred softly through the trees.

And for once, neither of them felt like running.

The morning sun slipped through the half-open curtains, casting warm stripes of light across the dorm room floor.

Noel stirred first.

For a moment, he just lay there—eyes closed, blanket pulled up to his chin, his heart oddly steady.

He could feel the quiet hum of the world outside: footsteps in the hallway, distant water pipes, the soft trill of a bird somewhere beyond the window.

And then it all came back.

The kiss.

The confession.

The notes.

Luca.

His eyes snapped open.

He turned his head slowly—and there he was.

Luca, curled on his side in the other bed, one arm tucked under his head, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

His silver-blonde hair was a mess, pillow-creased and sticking up in random directions. His mouth was slightly open.

Noel stared.

His heart didn’t race. But it didn’t feel calm either. Somewhere between disbelief and hope, he opened his eyes.

Seriously, how can someone sleep like a baby and still look this cute?

The line came back uninvited, and he groaned softly into his pillow.

I hate myself.

He carefully pushed the blanket aside and swung his legs down, trying not to make a sound.

His feet hit the cold floor, and he padded to his desk, grabbing his toothbrush and towel like he wasn’t overthinking everything.

Just be normal. Be cool. Totally normal morning after you sort-of-confess your feelings to your roommate and kiss him for the first time. Nothing weird here.

He made it halfway to the door before—

"You’re really sneaking out on me?"

Noel froze.

Luca’s voice, thick with sleep, drifted from behind him.

He turned slowly to find Luca now half-sitting up, blinking groggily, lips curled into the ghost of a smirk.

"Not sneaking. Just... brushing my teeth."

Luca stretched, arms high above his head, the hem of his shirt lifting slightly.

Noel looked away. Immediately.

"Wow," Luca muttered, voice still scratchy. "And here I thought you’d at least make me coffee."

Noel rolled his eyes. "Make your own coffee, heartbreak."

Luca laughed under his breath and flopped back onto the bed. "You’re already acting like we’ve been married five years."

Noel shot him a look. "Says the guy who read my love notes and still hasn’t apologized."

"Apologized?" Luca’s brow lifted. "You’re lucky I didn’t frame them."

Noel tossed a towel at him, which Luca caught easily, still grinning.

"Okay," Luca said, rubbing his face. "So... what happens now?"

Noel paused, hand on the doorknob. He glanced over his shoulder.

"You eat breakfast. I brush my teeth. You stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I’m your favorite daydream."

Luca smirked. "Too late."

Noel groaned, pushing out the door.

But he was smiling when it closed behind him.

By the time Noel returned from the bathroom, the dorm room smelled faintly of coffee and shampoo.

The curtain had been pulled back just a little, letting in soft streaks of daylight.

Luca was up—dressed but barefoot, leaning one elbow on the desk as he scrolled through something on his phone, absently sipping from a travel mug.

He looked up as Noel walked in, towel slung over his shoulder, hair still damp and sticking up.

"You took your sweet time," Luca said, without looking away from his screen. "What’d you do in there? Write poetry on the mirror?"

Noel threw his wet towel at him.

Luca caught it one-handed, smirking.

"I was trying to mentally prepare," Noel said, grabbing a shirt from the closet. "Not all of us thrive on chaos and caffeine."

Luca snorted. "Chaos builds character."

Noel gave him a look. "That’s what people say before their GPA collapses."

They moved around each other easily—one of those quiet, lived-in mornings where everything had weight, even the simplest things.

The sound of hangers sliding. The light scrape of a drawer. The brief brushing of arms when they passed each other near the closet.

And still... something was different.

Soft.

Warmer.

When Luca grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, he lingered a moment by the door.

"You coming?"

Noel glanced at the clock. "No class till ten. I’m gonna head to the library for a bit."

Luca raised a brow. "Shocker."

Noel rolled his eyes. "Do not start."

Luca held up his hands in surrender. "No slander today. I’m in too good a mood."

Noel tried not to smile at that. "What time are you done with class?"

"Like—nine-thirty, if the guy doesn’t rant about outdated grading systems again."

Noel hesitated for half a second. Then said, a little too casual:

"Meet me at the dining hall after?"

Luca blinked. Then gave a small smile. "You asking me on a breakfast date?"

Noel flushed. "I’m asking you to eat like a normal person."

"Still sounds like a date."

Noel didn’t argue. Just grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and opened the door. "Don’t be late."

Luca followed him out into the hallway, bumping their shoulders together as they walked.

"Try not to fall in love while I’m gone," he muttered.

"Too late," Noel whispered back—quiet enough that Luca didn’t hear.

The clatter of bowls and the low murmur of students filled the campus dining hall.

It smelled faintly of burnt toast, orange juice, and fresh coffee—a chaotic orchestra of morning energy.

Noel sat at the far edge of a table near the window, chewing the edge of a slice of buttered bread as he stared out over the courtyard. His phone buzzed once. Class reminder.

He sighed and pushed his tray aside.

Footsteps approached. Not rushed. Not hesitant. Just... casual.

And then Luca dropped into the seat across from him, balancing a tray piled with three slices of toast, a boiled egg, and an aggressively large iced coffee.

"Still eating like a rabbit, I see," Luca said, nodding at Noel’s half-finished toast.

"I don’t eat much in the morning," Noel replied without looking at him, though the corners of his mouth twitched.

Luca leaned forward slightly, voice lower. "You never eat much when you’re nervous."

That got Noel’s attention. His gaze snapped up.

Luca was watching him.

Not teasing. Not smirking.

Just watching.

Noel blinked. "I’m not nervous."

"You’re holding your fork like it offended your ancestors."

Noel glanced down at his hand. The fork was, in fact, bent slightly at the prongs. He set it down carefully. "Okay. Maybe mildly anxious."

Luca shrugged, tearing a piece of toast with his teeth. "Good. Means I’m not the only one."

A beat passed.

They both smiled—just slightly.

"Is this weird for you?" Noel asked after a second, voice quiet.

Luca shook his head. "No. Not weird. Just... different."

"Different how?"

Luca leaned back in his chair, eyes thoughtful. "Feels like I’m sitting with my favorite person. But now I get to actually admit it."

Noel stared at him, toast halfway to his mouth.

"Jesus," he muttered. "You’re gonna make me choke."

Luca grinned, clearly satisfied.

They finished eating slowly, talking about nothing and everything—Noel’s upcoming presentation, Luca’s failed attempt to set an alarm, the annoying vending machine near their lecture hall.

When they stepped outside together, the campus was wide awake.

Students poured through the courtyard, clustered on benches and under trees, backpacks slung lazily over one shoulder.

The morning sun was warm now, light bouncing off the glass windows of the admin building.

Luca walked a step slower than usual.

Close enough for his shoulder to brush Noel’s every few strides.

Noel didn’t pull away.

"I keep wondering if people can tell," he said under his breath.

Luca cocked an eyebrow. "Tell what?"

"That something’s... shifted."

Luca glanced sideways. "You mean that I’m dangerously close to holding your hand in public?"

Noel flushed. "Don’t you dare."

Luca’s grin widened, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he moved just a little closer—enough that their arms bumped softly, again and again, as they walked.

It was subtle.

But not subtle enough.

A girl passed them, eyes flicking toward them with vague curiosity. Not judgment. Not surprise. Just a small look—like she’d noticed something. A softness in the space between them.

Noel felt it too.

It didn’t feel like hiding.

It felt like holding something close.

They reached the steps of the building, students filing into lecture halls all around them.

Luca stopped just before the door.

Noel paused beside him. "You coming in?"

Luca shook his head. "Different class."

"Right."

They stood there for a second too long.

Then Luca leaned in—not kissing distance, but close enough for Noel to feel it.

"Good luck," he said. "Try not to correct the professor again. It’s embarrassing."

Noel rolled his eyes. "Once. I did it once."

Luca backed away with a lazy wave. "See you later, Professor."

And with that, he turned and walked off, hands in his pockets, whistling low under his breath.

Noel watched him go for a second too long.

He wasn’t sure what had changed. But it felt like the world had shifted—just enough to make space for something real.

Then he exhaled, adjusted his bag, and pushed through the door.