Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 294: Defense Season

The apartment stayed quiet longer than Noel expected.

He drifted in and out, aware of Luca’s fingers in his hair, the steady rise and fall of Luca’s leg beneath his cheek.

At some point the cat jumped up, kneaded once, then settled between them like it had claimed the moment.

"You asleep?" Luca asked softly.

"No," Noel murmured. "Just... horizontal."

Luca snorted. "That defense took it out of you."

"Apparently my body was holding itself together with anxiety."

"Impressive structural integrity."

Noel smiled against Luca’s thigh. "How long was I out?"

"Twenty minutes. I let you have it."

"Generous."

Luca’s fingers paused. "You hungry?"

"Not really."

"That’s not an answer."

Noel opened one eye, squinting up at him. "I could be convinced."

Luca shifted carefully, easing Noel upright. "I’ll make something easy."

"You don’t have to—"

"I want to."

They ended up in the kitchen again, late afternoon light slanting through the windows now, warmer and softer than the morning.

Luca pulled leftovers from the fridge, reheating pasta while Noel leaned against the counter, watching him move.

"Stop staring," Luca said without looking up.

"I like watching you do normal things."

"That’s weird."

"Let me have my weirdness."

Luca glanced over, mouth twitching. "Sit before you fall over."

Noel obeyed, swinging onto a stool. "What did you do while I was in there?"

"Refreshed my email. Pretended to take notes. Googled ’what to say when your boyfriend passes his thesis defense.’"

"And?"

"Results were unhelpful. Lots of balloons."

Noel laughed, the sound surprising himself. It felt good—loose, unguarded.

They ate slowly, knees brushing under the table, conversation drifting between nothing and everything.

Luca talked about his own defense—what he was worried about, which section still felt shaky.

Noel listened this time, really listened, offering quiet reassurance instead of panic.

"You’re going to be fine," Noel said eventually.

Luca raised a brow. "That’s my line."

"I’m stealing it."

"Rude."

"Effective."

By evening, the sky had darkened to blue-grey.

They did dishes together, bumping hips, arguing half-heartedly over whose turn it was to dry.

"You defended a thesis today," Luca said. "You don’t get dish duty."

"I absolutely do. Equality."

"Hero complex."

Noel nudged him with the towel. "Shut up."

They moved to the couch afterward, TV on but mostly ignored. Noel’s head found Luca’s shoulder again, Luca’s arm settling around him without thinking.

At some point, Noel said, "I keep replaying it."

"The defense?"

"The moment they said congratulations."

Luca tilted his head, resting his cheek against Noel’s hair. "Does it feel real yet?"

"Not really."

"It will."

Noel nodded, fingers curling into Luca’s shirt. "I’m glad you were there."

"I wasn’t going anywhere."

Later, when the day had fully worn them down, Luca stood and stretched. "Bed?"

"Please."

They went through the nighttime routine together—quiet, unhurried.

Noel brushed his teeth while Luca washed his face, their reflections moving in sync in the mirror.

Noel caught Luca watching him.

"What?"

"You look lighter," Luca said.

Noel spat, rinsed, then leaned back against the counter. "I feel like something finally let go."

Luca stepped closer, brushing Noel’s shoulder as he reached for his toothbrush. "Good. You carried it long enough."

They climbed into bed still smelling faintly of soap and toothpaste, the room dark except for the streetlight bleeding through the curtains.

Luca turned off the lamp, then rolled onto his side, facing Noel.

Noel hesitated only a second before shifting closer.

Luca’s arm came around him immediately, pulling him in until their legs tangled.

"Comfortable?" Luca asked.

"Yeah," Noel said. Then, quieter, "More than."

Luca’s thumb traced small, absentminded circles at Noel’s back. Noel tucked his face into Luca’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, steady and familiar.

Luca pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Sleep."

Noel exhaled, tension finally loosening its grip. "Stay."

"I’m not going anywhere."

Wrapped together, the world narrowed to breath and warmth and the simple fact of being held.

Noel drifted off with that certainty settling deep in his chest—quiet, solid, real.

Wednesday arrived with rain.

Luca woke to it drumming against the window, grey light filtering through the curtains.

Beside him, Noel was still asleep, face pressed into the pillow, one arm flung across Luca’s chest.

Luca lay still, listening to the rain, thinking about tomorrow.

His defense. Panel of three professors—Dr. Martinez, Dr. Webb, Dr. Kim. Nine thirty in the morning, same building where Noel had defended yesterday.

His stomach tightened.

He pushed the feeling down, rolled carefully out of bed without waking Noel, and padded to the kitchen.

Coffee first. Then he’d look at his notes one more time. Not because he needed to—he knew his research inside and out—but because his hands needed something to do.

The coffee maker gurgled and hissed.

Cat appeared, winding around his ankles, meowing plaintively.

He fed him anyway, then took his coffee to the table.

His laptop sat there, closed, notes stacked beside it.

He’d printed his entire thesis yesterday, all sixty-three pages, and read through it twice looking for problems he might’ve missed.

Found none. Or maybe he’d just stopped seeing them.

The bedroom door opened. Noel emerged, hair sticking up.

"Morning," Luca said.

"What time is it?"

"Seven thirty."

"Why are you up?"

"Couldn’t sleep."

Noel studied Luca properly. "You’re worried."

"I’m fine."

"You’re up at seven thirty on a Wednesday going through your notes again."

"Just reviewing."

"Luca."

"I’m fine," Luca repeated, more firmly this time. He took a sip of coffee, kept his expression neutral. "Really. Just want to be prepared."

Noel crossed to him, leaning against the table. "You are prepared. You’ve been ready for weeks."

"Doesn’t hurt to check."

"You’ve checked seventeen times."

"Eighteen’s the charm."

Noel huffed, but he was smiling. He reached out, fingers brushing through Luca’s hair. "You’re going to be great tomorrow."

"I know."

"Do you?"

"Yeah." And he did, mostly. The worry was there, sitting in his chest like a stone, but he’d learned a long time ago how to carry it without letting it show. Smile, shrug, act like everything was easy. People believed what you showed them.

Even Noel, sometimes.

"Breakfast?" Noel asked.

"Sure."

They made eggs together, moving around each other in the small kitchen with practiced ease.

Noel scrambled while Luca toasted bread, Cat supervising from her perch on the counter until Noel shooed her away.

"What’s your schedule today?" Noel asked, plating the eggs.

"Library this morning. Meeting with Emily and George at one—we’re going over the presentation format one more time. Then I’m free."

"I’ve got a seminar at two. Should be done by four."

"I’ll be at the art building. Third floor."

They ate in comfortable silence, rain still pattering against the windows. The apartment felt cozy, insulated from the world outside.

Luca’s phone buzzed. A text from Emily: Good luck tomorrow! You’re going to kill it.

He typed back: Thanks. You too.

George’s message came next: Don’t overthink it. You know your stuff.

Luca smiled. His friends knew him too well.

"Everyone checking in?" Noel asked.

"Yeah."

"Good friends."

"The best."

They cleaned up together, Luca washing while Noel dried. His mind kept drifting to tomorrow—the panel, the questions they’d ask, whether his methodology section would hold up under scrutiny.

He’d run the numbers five different ways. They were solid. He knew they were solid.

Still.

"Stop," Noel said quietly.

Luca looked over. "Stop what?"

"Whatever you’re doing in your head right now."

"I’m not doing anything."

"You’re spiraling. I can tell." Noel set down the dish towel, turning to face him fully. "Talk to me."

"There’s nothing to talk about."

"Luca."

He sighed, hands stilling in the soapy water. "What if my data’s wrong, or my analysis is flawed, or—"

"It’s not."

"You don’t know that."

"I do. Because I watched you work on this for months. I watched you triple-check every source, run every model until you were sure. You don’t do things halfway." Noel’s hand found his shoulder, squeezing gently. "You’re ready. You just have to trust yourself."

Luca nodded, throat tight. "Yeah. Okay."

"Mean it."

"I’m working on it."

Noel kissed his temple. "Good enough."

The library was quiet mid-morning, just a few students scattered across the floors.

Luca claimed his usual spot on the third floor, spreading his notes out, laptop open.

He reviewed his presentation one more time. Twenty-five slides, each one carefully crafted to build his argument. Consumer behavior analysis, market trends, statistical models showing correlation between brand loyalty and purchasing patterns.

Solid work. He knew it was solid.

Still read through it again.

Around eleven, his phone buzzed. Alex: Heard you’re defending tomorrow. You got this, man.

Then Jordan: dont fuck it up

Luca snorted. Jordan’s support came with sarcasm, always.

He typed back: Thanks for the confidence.

Jordan: you don’t need confidence you need to show up and talk. you’re good at talking.

Fair point.

At one, he packed up and headed to the student center. Emily and George were already there, coffees in hand, looking various degrees of stressed.

"Hey," George said. "Ready for tomorrow?"

"As I’ll ever be."

Emily pulled out her laptop. "Okay, formatting. They want title slide, then overview, then methodology, findings, conclusion, and questions. Twenty to thirty minutes total."

"I’ve got twenty-five," Luca said.

"Same. George?"

"Twenty-eight. I tend to talk fast when I’m nervous."

"We’re all nervous," Emily said. "That’s normal."

"You don’t look nervous," Luca observed.

"I’m excellent at faking calm." She pulled up her presentation. "Let’s run through structure one more time."

They worked for two hours, comparing slides, offering feedback, helping each other anticipate questions. By three, Luca felt more settled. Hearing Emily and George’s presentations made his own feel less isolating—they were all in this together.

"Okay," Emily said finally, closing her laptop. "I think we’re good."

"You think?" George asked.

"I know. We’re good. We’re all going to pass and then we’re going to get very drunk."

"I’ll drink to that," Luca said.

"Not yet, you won’t." But Emily was smiling. "Tomorrow. Then Thursday. Then Friday. Then we celebrate."

"Sounds like a plan."

They parted ways outside. The rain had stopped, leaving everything damp and grey. Luca headed toward the art building, taking his time, letting his mind settle.

The third floor collaborative space was nearly empty. He found his usual table by the window, settled in with his laptop.

Didn’t open it. Just sat there, watching students pass below, thinking about tomorrow.

He wasn’t nervous. Not really. Anxious, maybe. Aware of everything that could go wrong. But he’d done the work. He knew his research. He just had to show up and prove it.

Easy.

Around four thirty, footsteps on the stairs. Noel appeared, bag slung over one shoulder, looking tired but content.

"Hey," Luca said.

"Hey yourself." Noel dropped into the chair beside him. "How was the meeting?"

"Good. Emily’s got her structure down, George is overthinking like usual, and I’m somewhere in the middle."

"Sounds about right." Noel studied him. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just thinking."

"Dangerous activity."

"So I’ve been told."

Noel’s hand found his under the table, fingers lacing together. "You’re going to do great tomorrow."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it’s true. And because you need to hear it." Noel squeezed his hand. "I know you. You’re worried but you won’t show it. You’ll walk in there, present your research like you’re talking about the weather, and they’ll approve it because it’s good work."

Luca looked at him. "How do you know I’m worried if I’m not showing it?"

"Because I pay attention."

Something warm settled in Luca’s chest. "Thanks."

"Anytime." Noel stood, tugging him up. "Come on. Let’s go home. I’ll make dinner, you can pretend to relax, and we’ll both go to bed early."

"Romantic."

"Practical."

They walked home as the sun started setting, the sky turning pale orange behind grey clouds. The apartment welcomed them with the cat usual demanding meows and the familiar comfort of home.

Noel made pasta while Luca fed the cat. They ate on the couch, some documentary playing that neither of them really watched.

"Tomorrow," Luca said eventually.

"Tomorrow," Noel agreed. "Then we celebrate. Both of us."

"Both of us."

Luca leaned into him, Noel’s arm coming around his shoulders automatically. The worry was still there, sitting quiet in his chest, but smaller now. Manageable.

He could do this.

Tomorrow, he’d prove it.