Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 323: The Comfort of Always

Noel didn’t realize how quickly the morning disappeared until his screen flashed 12:47 PM.

His coffee had gone cold hours ago.

The office around him had shifted into a quieter rhythm—keyboards softer, conversations lower, the kind of lull that only existed before the afternoon storm.

A knock sounded against the glass.

Noel looked up.

It was Elias.

Mid-thirties, always sharp, always carrying himself like he belonged in every room he walked into.

They’d worked together long enough that formality had faded into something easy.

"You’re alive," Elias said, leaning against the doorframe.

Noel’s mouth curved slightly. "Disappointing, I know."

Elias scoffed. "Come eat. You’ve been back one day and you’re already acting like Singapore never let you rest."

Noel shut his laptop with a quiet click. "Lunch?"

"Lunch," Elias confirmed. "Before you forget food is a thing."

Noel stood, slipping his phone into his pocket. "Fine."

The restaurant wasn’t far—one of those quiet places tucked between corporate buildings, full of people in pressed shirts pretending they weren’t exhausted.

Elias had already claimed a table.

Across from him sat Mira, one of the senior logistics leads. She lifted her glass in greeting when Noel arrived.

"Look who finally decided to show his face."

Noel sat down smoothly. "I’ve been here since eight."

Mira smiled. "Physically."

Elias leaned back. "We were taking bets on how long it would take before you started answering emails mid-meal."

Noel’s expression stayed composed. "I don’t do that."

Mira’s eyebrows lifted. "You absolutely do."

Elias pointed his fork at him. "Last year you replied to customs while chewing."

Noel paused. Then, with quiet dignity, he said, "That was an emergency."

Mira laughed softly. "Everything is an emergency with you."

The waiter came by, menus exchanged for quick orders. They didn’t need time. They were all creatures of habit.

When the waiter left, Elias tilted his head slightly.

"So," he said, casual as breathing, "how’s domestic life treating you?"

Noel didn’t blink. "Normal."

Mira hummed. "Normal. That’s Noel for ’I’m probably happier than I’ve ever been but I won’t admit it.’"

Noel’s lips pressed together, but there was no real denial.

Elias smirked. "Luca still acting like he won the lottery?"

Noel’s gaze flickered, something softer passing through. "He doesn’t act," Noel said simply.

Mira rested her chin on her hand. "I still remember when you first introduced him to us. We all thought you’d finally snapped."

Noel glanced at her. "Why?"

"Because you looked... relaxed," she said, like it was the strangest thing.

Elias nodded. "It was unsettling."

Noel gave a quiet exhale, almost a laugh. "I didn’t realize I was that bad."

"You were," Mira said immediately.

Elias added, "Unapproachable. Like a walking quarterly report."

Noel lifted his glass. "Charming."

Mira’s smile softened. "It’s good, though. Luca suits you."

Noel’s fingers tightened slightly around the glass, not tense—just aware. "He’s... steady," Noel said after a moment.

Elias raised an eyebrow. "You mean he bothers you until you eat dinner?"

Noel’s mouth curved. "Yes. That too."

Mira leaned back, satisfied. "We like Luca. Anyone who can drag you out of your own head deserves a medal."

Noel didn’t argue. He didn’t need to.

The warmth in his chest said enough.

Food arrived—simple, efficient, familiar.

They ate with the easy rhythm of people who’d shared meals like this a hundred times before.

Elias told a story about a shipment stuck in customs because someone had misspelled "machinery" as "machinery." Mira groaned. Noel’s expression stayed neutral, but his eyes held amusement.

"You would’ve caught that," Mira said.

"I would’ve caught it in draft one," Noel replied.

"Exactly," Elias said. "You’re unbearable."

Noel took a sip of water. "I prefer thorough."

By the time they finished, the afternoon had begun to settle—lighter, easier.

When lunch ended, the three of them stepped back into the afternoon air.

Elias checked his watch. "Back to the grind."

Mira sighed. "Trade never sleeps."

Noel adjusted his coat, calm as ever. "No. But at least I go home now."

Elias glanced at him, something almost approving in his eyes. "Yeah," he said quietly. "You do."

And Noel walked back into the building with the faintest softness still lingering beneath his composure.

Home waited.

Noel returned to his office with the quiet rhythm of someone who knew exactly where he belonged.

The hallway smelled faintly of printer ink and expensive cologne. Shoes clicked against polished floors.

People moved with purpose, phones pressed to ears, voices low but urgent.

He nodded once at a junior analyst rushing past.

"Manager Noel."

Noel’s response was calm. "Don’t run. You’ll miss something."

The analyst slowed immediately, embarrassed, and Noel kept walking.

Inside his office, the world narrowed again.

His laptop woke with a soft glow. The inbox was waiting like a tide that never stopped coming.

He loosened his tie, sat down, and opened the first report.

Export compliance update. Shipping delays. Tariff adjustments.

His eyes moved steadily, focused, precise. Fingers tapped quick notes, clean instructions.

The afternoon blurred into a series of precise movements—emails answered, schedules adjusted, problems solved before they became crises.

This was what Noel did. What he was good at.

By mid-afternoon, Elias leaned into the doorway again.

"You’re being terrifyingly efficient."

Noel’s voice stayed neutral. "It’s my job."

Elias crossed his arms. "Do you ever get tired?"

Noel paused, just a fraction. "Yes."

Elias blinked. "Wow. Honesty."

Noel finally glanced up, expression unreadable. "Go away."

Elias laughed and left.

The quiet returned.

Noel worked through meetings that blurred together—video calls with Singapore, a discussion with a European partner, Mira stopping by with a folder and a raised brow.

"You’re back in full form," she said.

Noel accepted the folder. "I never left."

Mira’s smile was knowing. "You left a little."

Then she walked away before he could reply.

By the time the clock hit six, the office had begun to empty.

The city outside the glass windows was turning gold, sunlight catching on buildings like heat on water.

Noel shut his laptop.

The silence after was strange.

He stayed sitting for a moment, hands resting on the desk.

His eyes drifted to the window, to the city below moving in its endless rhythm.

Work was endless.

But Luca wasn’t.

Noel reached for his phone.

One notification sat at the top.

Luca: I miss you and it’s literally only Wednesday. This is unacceptable.

Noel stared at it. Then, very slowly, his mouth curved.

He typed back.

Noel: Focus on your work.

A pause. Then he added—

Noel: I’ll be home soon.

The apartment greeted him with stillness.

Noel stepped inside, kicked off his shoes neatly, and hung his coat in its place.

The air smelled faintly of detergent and morning sunlight trapped in curtains.

Luca wasn’t home yet.

The cat, however, was.

Luca Jr. sat on the rug like a tiny statue, tail curled, eyes sharp with silent judgment.

Noel paused, then crouched. "Hello."

The cat blinked once.

Noel reached out, fingers brushing through soft fur. "You look disappointed."

The cat remained unimpressed.

Noel exhaled, straightened, and headed into the kitchen.

He opened the fridge. It wasn’t empty—just uninspiring.

Eggs. A little milk. Some vegetables clinging stubbornly to relevance. He stared for a moment, already rearranging recipes in his head.

He reached for a pan.

His phone buzzed.

Luca calling.

Noel answered as he leaned against the counter. "Hey."

"You home?" Luca asked.

"Just got in. I’m about to start cooking."

A pause. Then a quiet laugh. "Don’t."

Noel frowned slightly. "Why?"

"I already ordered."

Noel blinked. "You did?"

"Mhm. I knew you’d get home tired and try to be responsible."

"I’m always responsible."

"That’s the problem," Luca said fondly. "Tonight, you rest."

Noel glanced at the stove, then back at the cat. "You didn’t have to."

"I wanted to."

Another small pause. The soft sounds of traffic bled through the line.

"I’ll be home in twenty," Luca added.

Noel’s shoulders loosened. "Okay."

"Don’t cook."

"I won’t."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Good. Go sit down. Be pretty."

Noel snorted. "You’re ridiculous."

"And you love me."

A beat.

"Yes," Noel said quietly. "I do."

He ended the call and returned the pan to its hook.

The living room felt gentler somehow.

Noel sank onto the couch, Luca Jr. hopping up beside him without invitation, curling into the hollow of his thigh.

Noel rested his head back, eyes drifting half-closed.

The day replayed in fragments—meetings, voices, numbers, expectations. All slowly dissolving.

The sound of keys at the door pulled him back.

Luca stepped inside, jacket slung over one shoulder, tie loosened, hair slightly undone. His gaze found Noel instantly.

"There you are."

Noel stood, almost without thinking.

They met halfway, Luca dropping the food bag onto the counter before pulling Noel into a loose embrace—not tight, not desperate, just familiar.

"How was your day?" Luca murmured.

"Long," Noel said. "Better now."

Luca smiled against his hair.

They separated slowly, hands lingering.

Dinner was easy. Warm containers opened. Steam fogging the air. Chopsticks clinking softly.

They ate side by side on the couch, knees touching, trading bites without comment, leaning into each other like gravity demanded it.

When the plates were cleared, Luca stretched out, tugging Noel down with him.

Noel settled easily against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of Luca’s breathing.

"Tomorrow’s Thursday," Luca murmured.

"It is."

"Then Friday."

"And then we blink," Noel said, "and it’s Monday again."

Luca hummed. "Let’s not blink."

They stayed there until the city quieted outside the windows.

Eventually, they brushed their teeth together, shoulders bumping, trading lazy smiles in the mirror.

In bed, Noel curled instinctively into Luca’s side.

Luca’s arm wrapped around him, firm and warm.

"Sleep," Luca whispered.

Noel breathed him in. "Already am."

Their breathing synced. The room dimmed.

And the night folded softly around them.