Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]
Chapter 65: Tomorrow, Together

Chapter 65: Tomorrow, Together

The sharp click of a remote against the desk cut through the fading drone of the professor’s final slide.

"We’ll stop here," he said, snapping his laptop shut. "Check your partner list before midnight. And don’t email me if you don’t like who you got."

Chairs shifted. Laptops closed. Bags unzipped.

Noel let out a breath he’d been unknowingly holding, like the lecture had wrapped around his ribs and only just let go.

He capped his pen, slipped it beside his notes, and moved with practiced ease—papers stacked, phone retrieved, notebook tucked away. His body knew the rhythm, even if his mind was still wandering.

Outside, the sunlight had softened into gold, slanting through the tall windows of the lecture hall, casting long rectangles across the floor.

Noel blinked once, then twice.

Done. Finally.

His phone remained quiet. No messages. No missed calls.

He didn’t expect one. And yet—he still looked.

Just in case.

He stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder and stepping into the slow trickle of students exiting the hall. Someone bumped his shoulder and muttered an apology, but he barely noticed.

By the time he stepped outside, the breeze had cooled. The sky wore that familiar shade of late-afternoon silver-blue, and the air buzzed with distant voices and footsteps echoing off the pavement.

He didn’t head straight to the dorm.

Instead, he wandered—just a little. Past the bench near the tree line, past the empty vending machine by the stairwell, past the place where he once sat last semester and cried into his hoodie without anyone noticing.

It wasn’t dramatic.

Just necessary.

And maybe that’s what this felt like now, too.

Necessary.

He pulled out his phone and opened his camera roll, scrolling slowly until he found the photo Luca had taken of him last week—without permission, of course.

The photo was blurry—his hoodie half off, mid-yawn, caught between moments.

But it looked real. Like something worth keeping. Like someone had seen him in the in-between and smiled anyway.

It shouldn’t have looked nice.

But it did.

Because when he looked at it now, all he could think was:

Someone saw me like this and smiled.

Noel locked his phone again, the faintest twitch of a smile pulling at his mouth.

He didn’t know what this thing with Luca would become. He didn’t have the words yet. But for once, he didn’t feel the need to have it all figured out.

Not tonight.

Maybe not even tomorrow.

He just wanted real.

When Noel opened the door to their dorm room, the light was already on.

Soft. Dim. The kind Luca always used when he claimed overhead lights were "a personal attack."

Noel stepped in, shutting the door quietly behind him. He didn’t announce himself. He didn’t need to.

Luca was stretched across his bed, one leg bent, hands behind his head. He was staring at the ceiling like it had just insulted him.

But the moment Noel walked in, Luca’s eyes flicked down.

Just once.

"Hey," he said, voice smooth, unreadable.

Noel set his bag down near his desk. "Hey."

A pause.

"You look like you survived something," Luca added, sitting up slightly.

"It was close," Noel said, toeing off his shoes.

Luca smirked. "Death by economics?"

"Death by group assignment announcement. You ever been partnered with someone whose voice alone makes you want to quit school?"

Luca whistled low. "Tragic. Should’ve faked your own disappearance."

"I considered it."

Luca shifted, planting his feet on the ground, elbows on his knees. He looked at Noel for a moment—too long to be casual, too soft to be teasing.

Noel didn’t comment.

Instead, he crossed to the mini fridge, grabbed the last cold water bottle, then tossed it lightly to Luca without warning.

Luca caught it one-handed, grinning.

"You know," he said, unscrewing the cap, "I was thinking..."

"Oh god," Noel muttered, sitting on his own bed.

"Shut up," Luca said, unfazed. "Hear me out."

Noel raised a brow. "I’m listening."

"There’s this spot behind the library," Luca said, taking a sip like he hadn’t spent the last two hours emotionally spiraling over date ideas. "Little café. Books. String lights. Not loud. Kind of... I don’t know. Cozy?"

Noel’s gaze lingered on him. "And?"

"And I was thinking," Luca continued, slower now, "maybe you and I could go."

A beat passed.

Luca looked up, watching Noel’s reaction carefully. Like the answer might set something on fire.

Noel leaned back on his hands, expression unreadable.

"Like... just us?" he asked.

Luca’s voice was a little softer when he replied.

"Yeah. Just us."

Noel didn’t smile at first.

He just looked at Luca, really looked at him—like he was cataloguing every little shift in expression, every bit of hesitance Luca didn’t usually allow.

Then finally, he nodded once.

"Okay," Noel said quietly. "Just us."

Luca blinked. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Noel echoed, eyes warm now.

Another pause, full of something new.

Then Luca stood, brushing imaginary dust off his jeans like he needed something to do with his hands. "Cool. I’ll, uh... I’ll figure out. I’ll let you know."

"You don’t have to overthink it," Noel said.

Luca glanced back. "I overthink everything when it comes to you."

The words were light—but the weight of them lingered.

Noel looked down at the floor. His voice was barely above a whisper.

"I know."

The room settled into stillness.

Not silent, not empty — but the kind of quiet that only happens when two people are thinking about the same thing and not saying it.

Luca had claimed the floor, sprawled on the rug like gravity had won. His phone was beside him, screen dim. He was chewing on the corner of a granola bar like it had personally offended him.

Noel sat cross-legged on his bed, legs bouncing slightly, fingers absently flipping through a textbook he wasn’t reading.

He hadn’t turned a page in five minutes.

Luca broke the quiet first. "What time’s your class tomorrow?"

Noel glanced up. "Ten. Done by noon."

Luca nodded slowly. "So... lunch date?"

Noel tried not to smile. "Is that what we’re calling it now?"

"I mean," Luca said, lifting a shoulder, "I was thinking something like casual exploratory interpersonal hangout with book-adjacent beverages, but... ’lunch date’ rolls off the tongue better."

Noel let out a quiet breath that might’ve been a laugh. "You’re ridiculous."

"You agreed to go out with me. Who’s really the ridiculous one?"

Noel dropped his eyes back to the book. "Still you."

Luca grinned. "Fair."

Another pause.

The pages in Noel’s lap stayed still. He could feel Luca watching him, like the space between them was too aware. Like something had shifted and both of them were trying to pretend it hadn’t.

Noel spoke first this time. His voice was low. "You nervous?"

Luca scoffed without heat. "Pfft. No."

"Liar."

"Fine. A little."

"Same."

Luca looked over at him. "You?"

"I haven’t been on a real date in a while," Noel admitted, eyes still on the page. "Not one where I actually wanted it to mean something."

Luca didn’t speak right away. But when he did, his voice was different.

Softer. Steadier.

"I want it to mean something too."

The air seemed to shift.

Noel finally looked up. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the room felt smaller — warmer — like the edges of the world had folded inward just for them.

Luca sat up slowly, legs crossed, arms resting loosely on his knees.

"You don’t have to be anything you’re not," he said, gaze level. "I just want... you. As you are. Weirdly brilliant. Kind of mean sometimes. Quiet. Honest."

Noel’s breath caught a little.

Then he nodded, once. "Okay."

"And maybe wear that black shirt," Luca added, suddenly smirking. "The one that makes me stupid."

"There it is," Noel muttered, rolling his eyes.

Luca winked. "What? It’s our first date. Let me be stupid."

They both laughed — a low, easy sound — and just like that, the moment broke gently, leaving only warmth behind.

Noel closed his book.

"I’m taking a shower," he said.

Luca flopped backward onto the floor, arms stretched. "Don’t stay too long, I will follow you if you did."

"Shut up," Noel muttered, but his voice didn’t have teeth.

He slid off the bed, grabbing his towel from the hook behind the door. Luca didn’t move, still sprawled on the floor like a starfish that had lost its will to function.

Noel paused before opening the door.

"You better not still be on the floor when I get back," he said.

Luca waved him off like a fallen prince. The rug creaked beneath him as if groaning in agreement.

"I make no promises," Luca replied, his voice muffled by the rug. "This carpet and I are soulmates now."

Noel shook his head, lips twitching.

The door clicked shut behind him.

In the bathroom, the world muffled.

Steam curled around the edges of the mirror, softening his reflection. Noel stood under the warm stream of water, letting it run over his neck, down his spine, across arms that had tensed without him noticing.

He closed his eyes.

Just you. As you are.

That’s what Luca had said.

And it terrified him.

Because Luca was loud, chaotic, impulsive — and Noel wasn’t. He was calculated. Guarded. He didn’t know how to be wanted without flinching a little. And yet... Luca wanted him anyway.

And somehow, that felt louder than any confession.

Noel turned the tap off, toweling down slowly. The fluorescent light buzzed softly overhead. His chest still felt too full, like he hadn’t exhaled since Luca said his name earlier.

When he returned to the room, the lights were still off.

Only the soft golden wash from the window lit the space — shadows painted in slow brushstrokes across Luca’s side of the room.

And yes.

Luca was still on the floor.

Noel hovered for a second, towel draped around his shoulders. "Seriously?"

"I told you," Luca said from the darkness. "The carpet is emotionally supportive."

Noel padded across the room barefoot, hair damp and messy. He nudged Luca’s leg with his foot.

Luca cracked an eye open.

"Come on," Noel said. "Bed."

Luca groaned dramatically but pulled himself upright. He sat on the edge of the bed instead of lying down, eyes drawn to Noel like he was tracking stars in motion.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

Noel turned away, pulling on a fresh T-shirt. "Yeah."

"You seem... quiet."

"I’m always quiet."

"Quieter."

Noel didn’t answer at first. Just brushed a hand through his wet hair and sat on his own bed, towel still clutched absently in his hand.

Then, finally:

"I don’t want to mess this up," Noel said quietly, the words brittle in his mouth—as if afraid they’d break if spoken too loud.

Luca blinked.

The words hit him in the chest in a way he didn’t expect.

"You won’t," he said. Not joking. Not light.

Noel didn’t look up. "You don’t know that."

Luca stood and crossed the space between them slowly. He didn’t reach out, didn’t press — just stood there, feet brushing Noel’s.

His voice was quiet but sure. "I do."

Noel glanced up.

And in that second, neither of them moved — both of them frozen in this small, fragile peace. The air between them felt like it could shatter if anyone breathed too loud.

But it didn’t.

It just held.

Luca finally stepped back with a breath and pointed at the towel still in Noel’s lap. "You gonna sleep with that?"

Noel blinked down, startled. "Shut up."

Luca chuckled and climbed into his bed. "Night, nerd."

"Night."

They didn’t say anything else.

But when the last light was off, and the room had quieted to nothing but distant crickets through the window...

Luca’s voice broke the dark, just once.

"I can’t wait for tomorrow."

And from across the room, Noel’s whisper came just a second later.

"Me neither," Noel whispered, the future no longer something to fear—but something that felt, finally, like it could belong to them.

But Noel’s lips were smiling as he turned off the lamp, the dim glow of the window painting soft shapes on the walls.

And in the dark, with nothing but the quiet between them, neither of them said anything more.

Because tomorrow was coming.

And maybe — just maybe — they were both ready for it.

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