Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]
Chapter 67: First Date, Real Start

Chapter 67: First Date, Real Start

Luca sat at the far edge of the campus dining courtyard, just beyond the heavier morning rush.

The breeze stirred his hoodie sleeves, the table in front of him empty except for a bottle of water and his phone face down.

Students moved around him — laughing, rushing, tapping away on laptops — but none of it landed. None of it touched the place his thoughts were anchored to.

He checked the time again.

11:23.

Noel had said lunch.

And yeah, Luca knew he still had class. That he might not even be out for another half-hour. Maybe longer.

But still...

He was already here.

He could’ve waited in the dorm, killed time anywhere else. But he came here. Because this—waiting—meant something now.

He wanted this.

To sit. To wait. Even if the minutes stretched long.

Luca exhaled, reaching for his phone. He flipped it over slowly, fingers tapping the lock screen open.

He hesitated.

Then—

He turned the phone slightly and lifted it.

Snap.

Just one photo.

The courtyard in front of him. Sunlight splashed across the table. One water bottle. One empty seat.

He stared at the picture for a long second.

Then his fingers hovered over the text box.

He didn’t want to come off clingy. Or desperate. He wasn’t either of those.

But he was honest now.

So finally, he typed:

Waiting. Just in case you need to know someone’s already looking forward to seeing you.

He paused again.

Then deleted the whole thing.

Typed again:

Your seat’s still empty. And I’m not moving.

He hesitated — thumb above the send button. His heart gave one stubborn, traitorous thump in his chest.

Then—

Send.

He locked the phone before he could think too hard about it.

Luca leaned back, arm draped across the bench, face turned toward the sky.

It didn’t matter how long.

He’d wait.

Because Noel was worth every slow minute.

The lecture hall hummed with the low murmur of tired students.

Noel sat in the third row from the front, elbow resting on his notebook, pen idle between his fingers.

He’d stopped writing twenty minutes ago, though the professor’s voice still moved across the room — steady, confident, wrapping up the final section on trend modeling and statistical data shifts.

Professor Arman gestured toward the slide. "Now, I want you to apply this model to last year’s trend shift. Focus on causation, not just correlation..."

Noel tried to pay attention.

Really, he did.

But his thoughts had drifted somewhere else entirely — outside, past the halls, somewhere beneath the jacaranda trees where light filtered soft and golden.

He blinked once.

Forced his eyes back to the slide.

But the weight in his chest hadn’t eased.

Did Luca really mean it? That he’d wait?

Noel wasn’t sure why it mattered so much. But it did.

He glanced down at his phone, screen dark.

He hesitated... then tapped it once.

A notification blinked back at him.

1 Message — Luca.

His heart kicked. Just once. Hard.

Noel’s fingers hovered above the screen.

Then he opened it.

A photo loaded first.

The dining courtyard. Luca’s usual table. One water bottle. One empty seat.

The caption sat just beneath:

Your seat’s still empty. And I’m not moving.

Noel stared at it.

The message wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t some overly romantic declaration. It was simple. Quiet.

But it made his throat tighten all the same.

Something about it made him feel... seen.

Not just waited for.

Wanted.

His fingers gripped the phone a little tighter.

Professor Arman clapped his hands once. "Alright, that’s it for today. Upload your reports by Friday noon. You’re dismissed."

Chairs scraped back. Students stretched, yawned, murmured their complaints about too much work.

Noel didn’t move.

He was still staring at his screen.

Then—finally—he exhaled.

Typed back:

Stay there. I’m on my way.

And hit send.

He didn’t even bother pretending to gather his notes slowly. He was out of his seat before the professor had closed his laptop.

The sun had shifted just slightly by the time Noel stepped outside, his bag slung carelessly over one shoulder.

The warm light spilled across the path ahead of him, casting long shadows from the benches, the tree branches above fluttering in the breeze.

His fingers gripped the strap of his bag tighter.

It wasn’t far — the walk from his building to the courtyard. He’d done it hundreds of times. But somehow, this time felt different.

Lighter.

Faster.

He didn’t rush.

But he didn’t slow down either.

Every few steps, his mind whispered:

He’s waiting.

He meant it.

Noel had always kept his thoughts to himself. Always filtered his reactions, measured his words. He was used to being careful — about what he said, what he showed, who he let in.

But now... someone was waiting just to see him.

No expectations. No performance. No masks.

Just... waiting.

And Noel was suddenly aware of everything.

The way the breeze tugged at his sleeves. The sound of voices echoing near the fountain. The beat of his own heart — insistent, steady, rising.

He passed the student center. A group of friends laughed near the bike rack, but their voices faded behind him. His eyes scanned ahead, toward the corner of the dining hall courtyard.

And then—beyond the sunlight and shifting trees—there he was. Luca. Waiting.

Luca, seated just where the photo had been taken. Arm draped over the back of the bench, face tilted toward the sun like he had all the time in the world.

As if waiting wasn’t some chore — but a choice.

As if Noel was worth it.

Noel slowed his steps, almost unsure of what his own face looked like.

Did he seem too eager? Too relieved?

He swallowed.

Luca hadn’t noticed him yet.

His phone was in one hand, thumb scrolling idly. His other rested on the table beside that bottle of water — the only other thing sharing space with him.

Just one seat.

Still empty.

Luca looked up.

He hadn’t meant to.

He was scrolling absently through his phone — not really reading, just killing time. But something in the air shifted. A hush in the rhythm around him, like something was about to click into place.

And then he saw him.

Noel.

Walking across the courtyard.

His hoodie caught the breeze, hair a little ruffled, eyes locked straight ahead — and even from a distance, Luca could tell something was different. Not in how Noel looked.

But in how he was looking at him.

Luca sat up a little straighter, one foot tapping the ground once, almost reflexively. His phone lowered to his lap, forgotten.

Noel didn’t say anything as he approached.

He just stepped into the space like it had always belonged to him.

And Luca — without thinking — stood.

Not because he had to.

But because he wanted to.

It felt right to meet Noel at eye level.

To let the moment have that gravity.

Noel stopped in front of him, brows lifted slightly. "You stood up?"

"I don’t know," Luca said. "Felt like you deserved more than a ’hey’ from a sitting guy."

A small laugh escaped Noel — soft, surprised. "You’re weird."

"And yet," Luca murmured, "you came."

Noel didn’t answer.

He just let their eyes meet for a beat longer than usual.

There was no one else in the world right then — not the scattered voices behind them, not the clatter of trays from the dining hall, not the buzz of phones in pockets.

Just them.

And the space between them.

Luca tilted his head. "You wanna sit?"

Noel nodded once. "Only if it’s still mine."

Luca smiled. "It’s yours."

He stepped aside, letting Noel slip into the seat.

Then, instead of taking the bench across, he sat right beside him.

Their shoulders brushed.

Neither of them moved.

Noel looked down at the table. The bottle of water still stood there — unopened.

"You didn’t eat," he said.

"I didn’t want to start without you."

Noel looked sideways at him. "...You waited this whole time?"

Luca met his gaze. "Told you I wasn’t moving."

Silence again.

But it wasn’t awkward.

It was full. Warm.

Finally, Noel asked, quieter, "So... what are we doing for this date?"

Luca leaned back, grinning. "Thought you’d never ask."

Noel glanced at Luca as they sat shoulder to shoulder, the warm spring sun filtering through the trees above them.

"So," he said, tapping lightly on the table with one finger, "you said you had an idea?"

Luca’s grin twitched at the corner. "Yeah. I did."

"You gonna tell me where, or are we playing guess-the-date?"

Luca stood, grabbing his bottle of water and slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Come on. I’m not that mysterious."

"You kinda are," Noel muttered, standing too.

Luca didn’t reply to that. He just turned toward the outer path — the one that looped behind the science building, toward the quieter end of campus.

Noel followed.

They walked in easy steps, not too fast, not too close, until Luca slowed in front of a narrow gate Noel had never really paid attention to.

Through it was a path framed by creeping ivy and low wooden railings. A garden tucked between two old buildings — barely visible unless you were looking for it.

"This... is your idea of a lunch date?" Noel asked, brow lifted.

Luca pushed the gate open, motioning him in. "Not yet."

They followed the trail a few steps in.

And there — tucked near the center of the garden — was a tiny café. Practically hidden. Wooden deck. Hanging plants. A chalkboard menu out front in messy handwriting.

One glance at the items told Noel everything:

Simple sandwiches. Warm pastries. Loose-leaf tea. No buzz of espresso machines. No music too loud to think. Just soft clinking dishes, books and sunlight warming the wood.

Noel turned slowly, looking at Luca.

"You found this?"

"Yeah," Luca said, stepping beside him. "Never brought anyone here."

"Why now?"

Luca’s eyes didn’t waver.

"Because I wanted our first date to feel like trying. Not pretending."

Noel stared at him for a moment, heart thudding in his chest.

Then he looked away, cheeks coloring slightly.

Noel looked at Luca for a long second. Something tightened in his chest—like relief and hope tied in one thread.

"...Let’s go in."

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