Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 293: Someone Waiting Outside

The alarm went off at six thirty.

Noel’s hand shot out, silencing it immediately. He lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, heart already picking up speed.

Beside him, Luca stirred. "Morning."

"Morning."

"How’d you sleep?"

"Fine." A lie. Noel had woken up three times, mind spinning through his presentation, anticipating questions he might not be able to answer.

Luca rolled onto his side, studying him in the dim light. "You’re a terrible liar."

"I slept some."

"Better than nothing." Luca’s hand found his under the covers, fingers lacing together. "You ready?"

"No. Yes. I don’t know."

"That’s honest, at least."

Noel turned his head, meeting Luca’s eyes. "I don’t want to freeze. What if they ask something I can’t answer?"

"Then you’ll say ’that’s a great question, let me think about it’ and you’ll figure it out. Like you always do."

"You make it sound simple."

"It’s not simple. But you can do it." Luca squeezed his hand. "Come on. Shower, coffee, then we’ll get you there."

They moved through the morning routine with quiet efficiency. Noel showered first, letting the hot water work through some of the tension in his shoulders. When he emerged, Luca had coffee brewing and was already dressed.

"Eat something," Luca said, sliding a plate of toast across the counter.

Noel picked at the toast, managing half a piece before his stomach protested. He dressed carefully—button-down shirt.

Luca watched from the doorway. "You look good."

"I look nervous."

"You look like someone who’s about to defend four years of research and nail it."

"Confident."

"One of us has to be." Luca crossed to him, straightening his collar unnecessarily. "Nine o’clock, right?"

"Yeah. Williams Hall, third floor conference room."

"I’ll walk you."

"You don’t have to—"

"I’m walking you."

They left the apartment at eight fifteen, giving themselves plenty of time. The morning was cool, clouds hanging low and grey. Campus was quiet this early, just a few dedicated students hurrying to morning classes.

Noel’s hands were shaking. He shoved them in his pockets.

"Tell me about your panel," Luca said.

"What?"

"Your defense panel. Who’s on it?"

"Professor Williams—she’s my advisor. Then Professor Chen from the Economics department and Professor Park from Political Science."

"Have you worked with them before?"

"Chen, yeah. Took two of his classes. Park I’ve only met once."

"Williams likes you."

"She’s also the hardest grader I’ve ever had."

"Because she knows you can handle it." Luca bumped his shoulder. "They wouldn’t let you defend if they didn’t think you were ready."

"That’s what they says."

"Because it’s true."

They reached Williams Hall. The building loomed above them, all brick and tall windows. Noel stopped at the base of the steps.

"Okay," he said. More to himself than Luca.

"Okay," Luca echoed. He caught Noel’s hand, pulling him around to face him. "Listen to me. You know this research better than anyone in that room. You’ve lived with it for months. They’re going to ask questions because that’s their job, but you have answers. Trust yourself."

Noel nodded. His throat felt tight.

"And if it helps," Luca continued, softer now, "I’ll be right outside. The whole time. So when you’re done, I’m here."

"You have class at ten."

"I’ll skip it."

"Luca—"

"I’m skipping it. Non-negotiable." Luca leaned in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Go defend your brilliant research. I’ll be waiting."

Noel climbed the steps alone.

The third floor was quiet, fluorescent lights humming overhead. He found the conference room at the end of the hall—door closed, voices murmuring inside.

He checked his phone. Eight fifty-three.

The door opened. Professor Williams appeared, glasses perched on her nose, graying hair pulled back. She smiled when she saw him.

"Noel. Ready?"

"As I’ll ever be."

"Good answer." She held the door open. "Come on in."

The room was smaller than he’d expected. A long table dominated the center, three chairs on one side—Williams, Chen, and Park already seated. A laptop was set up at the head, projector humming.

"Have a seat," Williams said, gesturing to the chair opposite them.

Noel sat. His hands were still shaking. He pressed them flat against his thighs.

"We’ve all read your thesis," Williams began. "Impressive work. Today is your chance to walk us through your argument and answer our questions. Take your time, speak clearly, and remember—we’re here because we want to understand your research, not trip you up."

Park nodded. Chen scribbled something in his notepad.

"Whenever you’re ready," Williams said.

Noel pulled up his presentation. First slide—title, his name, date. He took a breath.

"My research examines the impact of bilateral trade agreements on emerging markets, specifically focusing on how these agreements affect domestic labor markets and income inequality."

His voice steadied as he moved through the slides. The first section laid out his theoretical framework, the second presented his methodology. By the third section—his findings—he’d found his rhythm.

Chen interrupted first. "Your regression analysis here—walk me through your control variables."

Noel did, explaining each choice, why it mattered, how it affected the model.

"And you accounted for endogeneity?" Chen pressed.

"Yes. I used instrumental variables to address potential reverse causality between trade agreements and labor outcomes."

Chen nodded, satisfied.

Park jumped in next, asking about his case studies, why he’d chosen those specific countries, whether his findings were generalizable.

Noel answered each question methodically, pulling from months of research, citations he’d memorized, arguments he’d tested and retested.

Williams watched, occasionally making notes, her expression unreadable.

The presentation took forty minutes. Then came the real questions.

"Your conclusion suggests trade agreements exacerbate inequality in the short term," Williams said. "But you also argue they create long-term benefits. How do you reconcile those two findings?"

Noel leaned forward. "The key is timing and implementation. In the immediate aftermath of an agreement, certain sectors face displacement as markets adjust. Workers in those sectors experience job loss or wage stagnation. But over a longer period—five to ten years—new industries emerge, productivity increases, and overall economic growth tends to offset initial losses. The problem is that policy often fails to support displaced workers during that transition period."

"So it’s not the agreements themselves causing inequality," Park said, "but inadequate domestic policy response."

"Exactly. My research suggests that trade agreements paired with robust retraining programs and social safety nets can minimize short-term inequality while maximizing long-term gains."

Williams made a note. "Interesting."

They went on like that for another thirty minutes—probing, questioning, testing the edges of his argument.

Noel answered as best he could, admitting when he wasn’t sure, offering directions for future research when his data ran out.

Finally, Williams set down her pen.

"I think that’s everything we need," she said. "Noel, if you could step outside for a few minutes while we deliberate?"

Noel stood on shaking legs. "Of course."

He walked out, closing the door behind him.

The hallway was still empty except—

Luca was there, sitting on the floor against the wall, laptop open across his knees. He looked up when Noel appeared.

"How’d it go?"

"I don’t know yet." Noel slid down beside him, knees pulled to his chest. "They asked a lot of questions."

"That’s good, right? Means they’re engaged."

"Or they found holes in my argument."

"You don’t have holes in your argument."

"Everyone has holes."

Luca closed his laptop, setting it aside. "How long do they need?"

"Ten, fifteen minutes, maybe."

"Okay." Luca’s arm came around his shoulders, pulling him close. "You did good. I know you did."

"You weren’t in there."

"Don’t have to be. I know you."

They sat in silence, Noel’s head dropping to Luca’s shoulder. His heart was still racing, adrenaline making his hands shake.

The door opened.

Williams stood there, expression neutral. "Noel? We’re ready."

Luca squeezed his shoulder once before letting go.

Noel walked back in. The three professors were standing now, papers gathered.

"Congratulations," Williams said, and she was smiling now. "Your defense is approved. Pending minor revisions to your bibliography and one clarification in your methodology section, your thesis is accepted."

The relief hit him like a wave. "Thank you."

"You did excellent work," Chen added. "Really impressive analysis."

Park nodded. "We’ll have written feedback to you by end of week. Make those revisions, resubmit, and you’re done."

Done.

Noel shook their hands, accepted their congratulations, somehow made it back out to the hallway.

Luca was on his feet immediately. "Well?"

"I passed."

"I knew it." Luca pulled him into a hug, tight and fierce. "I knew you would."

Noel’s arms came around him, holding on. "I passed," he said again, like he couldn’t quite believe it.

"You did." Luca pulled back, grinning. "We should celebrate."

"No."

"What?"

"Not yet." Noel’s hands settled on Luca’s waist. "Thursday. When you’re done. We celebrate together."

"Noel, you just defended your thesis—"

"And you will too in two days. Then we celebrate both." His thumb brushed along Luca’s hip. "I want to wait for you. We do this together."

Luca studied him for a long moment. Then something soft crossed his face. "Together."

"Together."

"You’re ridiculous."

"Probably."

"Also sweet."

"Don’t tell anyone."

Luca kissed him, brief and warm. "Come on. Let’s get out of here."

They walked back across campus, Noel’s relief slowly settling into something real. He’d done it. Four years of work, months of research, and he’d actually done it.

"You’re smiling," Luca observed.

"Am I?"

"Like an idiot."

"Rude."

"Accurate."

Noel bumped his shoulder. "Thursday. Your turn."

"Thursday," Luca agreed. "Then we celebrate."

"Then we celebrate."

The apartment welcomed them back with the cat demanding meows and the familiar smell of home. Noel collapsed on the couch, suddenly exhausted, adrenaline finally draining away.

Luca sat beside him, pulling Noel’s head into his lap. His fingers carded through Noel’s hair, gentle and rhythmic.

"Proud of you," Luca murmured.

"Thanks."

"Thursday," Luca said again. "Two more days."

Two more days until Luca defended. Two more days until they could both breathe.

Noel closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the moment. For now, this was enough..