Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 280: The Best Kind of Day

Saturday morning arrived in shades of gold sunlight streaming through their bedroom window, warming the tangle of blankets and limbs, painting everything soft and gentle.

Luca woke slowly, registering warmth first, then the steady rhythm of breathing beside him, then the weight of Noel’s arm across his waist.

He kept his eyes closed, not ready to leave this moment, this perfect pocket of stillness before the day demanded anything from them.

"You’re awake," Noel murmured, voice still rough with sleep.

"How do you always know?"

"Your breathing changes."

"Creepy."

"Oabservant." Noel’s fingers traced lazy patterns against his hip. "What time is it?"

Luca cracked one eye open, checking his phone on the nightstand. "Ten-thirty."

"We slept late."

"It’s Saturday. We’re allowed."

"Mm."

Neither of them moved, content to exist in the warmth and quiet, no obligations pulling them from bed.

"I had a dream about you," Luca said eventually.

"Good or bad?"

"Weird. We were at the arcade but all the games were actually capstone projects in disguise."

Noel laughed softly. "That’s definitely weird."

"You were very stressed about the ski ball representing international trade regulations."

"That sounds accurate."

"Even in my dreams you’re a perfectionist."

"Sorry."

"Don’t be. It’s part of your charm." Luca shifted, turning to face him. "Morning."

"Morning."

They stayed like that, faces close on shared pillows, just looking at each other in the golden light.

"Your hair is ridiculous," Luca said.

"Yours isn’t better."

"Mine has character."

"Mine has dignity."

"Your dignity is sticking straight up."

Noel tried to smooth it down, which only made it worse, and Luca started laughing soft and warm and completely unguarded.

"Don’t laugh at my hair."

"Can’t help it. It’s defying gravity."

"That’s not—" But Noel was smiling too, and then they were both laughing, the kind that felt good in your chest, the kind that came from being completely comfortable with someone.

From the living room, the cat meowed loudly a clear demand for breakfast that transcended closed doors.

"He’s impatient," Noel observed.

"He’s a cat. Impatience is their default setting."

The meowing intensified, gaining urgency.

"I’ll get him," Luca said, but made no move to actually get up.

"You’re still in bed."

"I’m building motivation."

"That’s not how motivation works."

"Sure it is. I’m very motivated. To stay here. With you."

Noel’s expression softened in that way it sometimes did like Luca had said something profound instead of just being lazy.

"What?" Luca asked.

"Nothing. You’re just... nice to wake up to."

"Nice? That’s the best you can do?"

"Would you prefer a sonnet?"

"I’d prefer something between ’nice’ and ’sonnet.’"

"You’re lovely to wake up to."

"Better."

"You’re the best part of my morning."

"Even better."Luca was smiling.

"You’re—"

"Okay, now you’re overdoing it."

Noel kissed him instead of responding, slow and soft and tasting like sleep and possibility.

When they broke apart, the cat meowing had reached opera levels.

"We should probably feed him," Noel said.

"Probably."

But they stayed another minute, foreheads touching, breathing the same air, storing this moment like treasure.

Eventually hunger both theirs and the cat’s drove them from bed.

Noel fed it while Luca started coffee, both of them moving through the small kitchen in comfortable synchronization, familiar choreography perfected over months of cohabitation.

"What do you want to do today?" Noel asked, pouring kibble into the bowl.

"Nothing."

"That’s not an answer."

"It’s the best answer. Nothing. Zero productivity. Maximum laziness."

"We have homework—"

"Nope. Saturday is for not thinking about homework."

"Luca—"

"Noel." Luca turned from the coffee maker, crossing his arms. "We’ve been going non-stop for weeks. Can we please just have one day where we don’t think about school or stress or any of it?"

Noel considered this. "Okay."

"Really?"

"Really. One day of nothing."

"Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?"

"Character growth."

"I like this version of you."

"Don’t get used to it."

They made pancakes for breakfast Luca attempting to flip them with mixed success, Noel taking over before the kitchen became a disaster zone, both of them laughing at the misshapen results.

"This one looks like a map of something," Luca said, examining a particularly abstract pancake.

"A map of your cooking skills. Very small territory."

"Rude but accurate."

They ate at their small table, legs tangled underneath, syrup making everything sticky and sweet, conversation wandering through meaningless topics that felt significant precisely because they were meaningless.

"If you could have any superpower," Luca asked, "what would it be?"

"That’s very random."

"I’m very random. Answer the question."

Noel thought about it. "Teleportation, probably. Skip the commute. Visit places instantly."

"Boring."

"Practical."

"Same thing."

"What about you?"

"Time manipulation. Pause everything when I’m stressed. Fast-forward through boring lectures."

"That’s cheating life."

"That’s using life efficiently."

"You’d abuse that power immediately."

"Absolutely I would."

After breakfast, after dishes.

Luca sprawled along its length, head in Noel’s lap, scrolling through his phone without really looking at anything.

Noel had a book actual fiction for once, not required reading and was making slow progress through it, occasionally reading interesting passages aloud.

"Listen to this," he said at one point. "’The thing about love is that it asks nothing and gives everything, existing in the space between heartbeats, in the moments too small to measure but too important to forget.’"

"That’s very poetic."

"It’s beautiful."

"You’re getting soft."

"I’ve always been soft. You just bring it out more."

Luca looked up at him, something warm and indefinable in his chest. "Read more."

So Noel did, his voice steady and gentle, reading passages about love and time and the small infinities between people, while Luca listened and watched sunlight move across their ceiling.

Around two, Luca’s stomach rumbled loudly.

"Hungry?" Noel asked, setting his book aside.

"Always."

"We have leftovers."

"Leftovers are for people without imagination."

"What does imagination suggest?"

"Getting out of this apartment. Walking somewhere. Finding food that requires minimal effort but maximum satisfaction."

"You want to get lunch."

"I want to go on an adventure that happens to include lunch." 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

"Those are the same thing."

"Perspective, Noel. It’s about perspective."

They bundled up against the cold late afternoon sun doing nothing to combat February temperatures and headed out.

Their neighborhood was quiet on Saturday afternoon, most people either working or staying inside, but the streets felt alive anyway with possibility.

They found a small diner three blocks from their apartment that they’d somehow never noticed before, the kind of place with mismatched chairs and a menu that promised comfort food and didn’t apologize for it.

"This is perfect," Luca said, sliding into a booth near the window.

"We literally just found it by accident."

"The best things are found by accident."

"That’s not how planning works."

"Planning is overrated."

"Says the person who never plans anything."

"Exactly. I’m an expert on not planning."

They ordered burgers and fries and milkshakes.

"Tell me something I don’t know about you," Luca said while they waited for food.

"After living together for months? I think you know everything."

"There has to be something. A secret. A hidden talent. A dark past."

"My past isn’t that interesting."

"Come on. Give me something."

Noel thought. "I used to collect stamps when I was a kid."

"Stamps? Like, mail stamps?"

"Yeah. My grandfather got me started. We’d go through his mail together, save the interesting ones."

"That’s adorable."

"That’s nerdy."

"Same thing in this context."

"I still have the collection. In a box somewhere at my parents’ house."

"See? I didn’t know that." Luca grinned. "You’re a stamp collector. That’s your secret identity."

"That’s not a secret identity."

"It should be. Very mysterious."

"You’re ridiculous."

"You love me anyway."

"Maybe."

"Hey—"

But Noel was smiling, that particular smile that meant he was teasing but also being completely sincere.

The food arrived burgers bigger than reasonable, fries golden and perfect, milkshakes thick enough to require actual effort to drink.

They ate slowly, conversation wandering everywhere and nowhere, both of them relaxed in a way they hadn’t been in weeks.

"This was a good idea," Noel admitted.

"I have good ideas sometimes."

"Sometimes."

"I’ll take it."

Walking back, the sun already beginning its descent, Luca reached for Noel’s hand.

Not because he needed to. Not because anything required it.

Just because he wanted to.

And Noel’s fingers intertwined with his immediately, natural as breathing.

Back at the apartment, they watched a movie neither had seen before something action-packed and requiring zero brain power, explosions and car chases filling the screen while they provided running commentary.

"That’s not how physics works," Noel said during a particularly impossible stunt.

"It’s a movie. Physics is optional."

"Physics is never optional."

"In this movie it is."

"That car should have exploded three times already."

"Maybe it’s a very sturdy car."

"That’s not—"

Luca kissed him, effectively ending the physics debate.

"That’s cheating," Noel said when they separated.

"That’s efficiency."

"We’re watching a movie."

"We’re multitasking."

The movie continued, but neither of them watched it anymore, too distracted by each other, by the comfortable familiarity of being close, by the simple joy of having nowhere else to be.

Evening arrived gradually, the apartment darkening until Noel finally got up to turn on lights, the spell of the day not broken but gently transitioning.

They ordered Chinese food for dinner continuing their recent pattern I’mand ate while scrolling through their phones, showing each other funny videos and random observations, conversation as comfortable as silence.

Around nine, Luca yawned widely.

"Tired?" Noel asked.

"Relaxed tired. Not stress tired."

"There’s a difference."

"Huge difference."

They ended up in bed earlier than usual, both of them content to surrender to exhaustion, limbs tangled together.

"Today was good," Luca murmured into the darkness.

"We didn’t do anything."

"Exactly. That’s the best kind of day."

Noel’s arm tightened around him. "Yeah. It really is."

They drifted toward sleep, Saturday complete, both of them restored in the small ways that mattered through laughter and food and choosing each other over productivity.

Outside, the city settled into Saturday night. Inside, they existed in their bubble of domestic contentment, homework forgotten, stress temporarily suspended.

Tomorrow would bring obligations again. But tomorrow wasn’t here yet.

Right now, they had this warmth and closeness and the quiet knowledge that some days, doing nothing was doing everything that mattered.

And that was more than enough.