Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 303: Borrowed Hours

They were halfway home when Luca stopped walking.

"What?" Noel asked, turning back.

"Let’s go out."

"We just came from out."

"No, I mean out out. Like actually do something." Luca gestured vaguely toward the city. "Drinks, music, people. The whole thing."

Noel studied him. "You want to go to a party?"

"Not a party exactly. Just... somewhere alive. Somewhere that isn’t our apartment or campus."

"We have plans tomorrow. With everyone again."

"So we’ll be tired tomorrow. Who cares?" Luca stepped closer, caught Noel’s hand. "Come on. When’s the last time we actually went out just to go out? Not for someone’s birthday or a group thing, just us deciding to have fun?"

"I don’t remember."

"Exactly. Because it’s been forever." Luca tugged him forward slightly. "One week left. Then we’re real adults with real jobs and real responsibilities. Let’s be irresponsible while we still can."

"That’s a terrible argument."

"Is it working?"

Noel sighed, but he was smiling. "Where would we even go?"

"Jordan texted me yesterday. Said there’s live music at his bar tonight. Local band, supposed to be good."

"You already had this planned."

"I had it as a possibility. Now I’m making it a plan." Luca squeezed his hand. "Please? For me?"

"You’re using the puppy eyes."

"Are they working?"

"Unfortunately." Noel pulled out his phone, checked the time. "It’s five thirty. If we’re doing this, we should go home, change, eat something that isn’t pastries."

"So that’s a yes?"

"That’s a reluctant yes."

Luca kissed him, quick and grateful. "You won’t regret it."

"I probably will. But I’m saying yes anyway."

They changed at home—Luca into dark jeans and a shirt that Noel said made him look dangerous, Noel into clothes that were slightly too nice for a dive bar but that was part of his charm.

"You’re overdressed," Luca observed.

"I’m appropriately dressed."

"It’s bar. People show up in ripped jeans and band t-shirts."

"Then I’ll stand out."

"You always stand out."

Noel paused, looked at him. "Is that a compliment?"

"Obviously."

They fed the cat, made sure he had fresh water, promised him they’d be back before too late. The cat looked unimpressed with their departure.

"He’s judging us," Luca said.

"He judges everything we do."

"True."

Jordan’s bar was a twenty-minute walk, tucked into a neighborhood that came alive after dark.

By the time they arrived, the sun had mostly set, neon signs flickering to life along the street.

Inside was already crowded—locals mostly, some students who’d discovered the place, all of them talking loud over music that hadn’t started yet.

The stage at the back held instruments and equipment, a drum kit with the band’s name painted across: The Bitter Novels.

Jordan spotted them immediately, waved from behind the bar.

"Luca! Noel!" He grinned wide, already pouring something. "Didn’t think you’d actually show."

"Luca’s idea," Noel said.

"Of course it was." Jordan slid two drinks across the bar. "On the house. Graduation present."

"We haven’t graduated yet," Luca pointed out.

"Pre-graduation present then. Don’t argue, just drink."

Luca took a sip. Whiskey something, smooth and burning. "What is this?"

"My own creation. You like it?"

"It’s dangerous."

"That’s the idea."

They found a spot near the wall with a decent view of the stage.

The bar filled up more as they waited, bodies pressing closer, conversations growing louder.

"This is a lot of people," Noel said.

"Too much?"

"No. Just observing."

The band appeared around seven, carrying that particular energy of musicians who played because they loved it, not because they were famous.

Guitar, bass, drums, keyboard.

The lead singer—a woman with purple hair and a leather jacket—grabbed the mic.

"Good evening, beautiful people. We’re The Bitter Novels, and we’re here to make some noise."

They launched into their first song—fast, loud, energetic.

The kind of music you felt in your chest, made you want to move.

Luca didn’t think, just grabbed Noel’s hand and pulled him closer to the stage where people were already dancing.

More swaying and moving than actual choreography, just bodies responding to rhythm.

"I don’t dance," Noel protested.

"You’re dancing right now."

"I’m standing here while you dance at me."

"Close enough."

Luca moved, letting the music take over.

Noel watched him with that particular expression—fond and amused and slightly overwhelmed.

Eventually he gave in, let himself move too, less fluid than Luca but trying.

The band played three more songs, each one building energy.

The crowd was into it, singing along to choruses, hands in the air.

Luca felt alive in a way he hadn’t in weeks—no stress, no deadlines, just this moment, this music, this person beside him.

Between songs, he pulled Noel close, spoke directly into his ear to be heard over the noise.

"Thank you for coming."

"Do I have choice.?"

"I know this isn’t your scene."

"It’s growing on me anyway."

The band started a slower song, something about driving at night and not knowing where you’re going.

The crowd shifted, some people pairing off, others heading to the bar for refills.

Noel’s arms came around Luca’s waist, pulling him close.

They swayed together, not quite dancing, just moving in sync.

"This is nice," Noel said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." His forehead pressed against Luca’s temple. "I’m glad you convinced me."

"I’m very convincing."

"Annoyingly so."

They stayed like that through the entire song, wrapped up in each other, the crowd and noise fading into background.

Just them, the music, the shared rhythm of breathing and heartbeat.

When the song ended, they broke apart slightly.

Luca’s face felt flushed from heat and proximity and the drinks Jordan kept sending over.

"Another round?" he asked.

"Water first."

"Responsible."

"One of us has to be."

They made their way back to the bar.

Jordan had water ready before they asked, along with two more of his special creation.

"How’s the show?" he asked.

"Great," Luca said. "They’re really good."

"Right? I try to book actual talent, not just anyone who asks." Jordan leaned against the bar. "You guys celebrating something specific or just living your best life?"

"Last week of freedom before real life starts."

"Ah. The pre-adult panic. Classic." Jordan raised his own drink. "To denial and irresponsibility."

"I’ll drink to that," Luca said.

They clinked glasses. The band started up again, something upbeat and defiant. More people crowded the floor.

"You want to go back?" Noel asked.

"In a minute. This water is necessary."

They stood at the bar’s edge, watching the crowd move and sway.

Luca spotted a few familiar faces.

Everyone young and alive and pretending the future wasn’t coming.

"Hey," Noel said, drawing his attention back.

"Yeah?"

"I love you." Noel said all of the sudden.

The words hit different here, in the chaos and noise and heat. More real somehow, more immediate.

"I love you too...so much." Luca said.

Noel kissed him, slow and deliberate despite the noise around them.

Someone whooped nearby—probably Jordan—but Luca ignored it, focused entirely on this.

When they broke apart, Noel’s eyes were bright, happy in a way that made Luca’s chest hurt in the best way.

"Come on," Noel said, pulling him back toward the crowd. "Let’s be irresponsible."

"Since when do you advocate for irresponsibility?"

"Since you convinced me life’s too short not to."

They rejoined the dancing mass of people, letting the music take over completely.

Lost themselves in movement and sound and the particular joy of not thinking, just being.

The band played for another hour. By the time they finished, Luca was sweaty, exhausted, and happier than he’d been in months.

They stumbled out into the night air, cooling down immediately in the breeze.

"That was fun," Noel admitted.

"Told you."

"You’re very smug right now."

"I earned it."

They walked home slowly, in no particular hurry.

The city was alive around them—restaurants still serving, people laughing on patios, the distant sound of traffic and music.

"One week," Luca said as they turned onto their street.

"Yeah," Noel agreed.

"Think we’ll be okay? After everything changes?"

Noel stopped walking, turned to face him properly under a streetlight. "I think we’ll be more than okay. I think we’ll be exactly what we need to be."

"That’s cryptic."

"That’s honest." Noel’s hand found his, squeezed gently. "Whatever comes next, we face it together. That’s all I know for certain."

"That’s enough."

"Yeah. It is."

They climbed the stairs to their apartment, let themselves in.

The cat greeted them with annoyed meows about their late arrival.

"Sorry, buddy," Luca said, scratching behind his ears. "We were being young and reckless."

The cat was unimpressed.

The apartment was quiet except for the hum of the city outside and cat offended commentary.

Luca barely made it three steps toward the bedroom before Noel caught his wrist.

"You’re disgusting," Noel said.

"I danced for an hour. That’s a workout."

"You smell like sweat, whiskey, and poor decisions." Noel steered him toward the bathroom. "Shower. Now."

Luca leaned his weight against the doorframe. "I’m exhausted."

"No excuses." Noel turned on the water, steam already starting to fog the mirror. "Five minutes. I’ll even wash your hair."

Luca opened one eye. "That’s manipulation."

"And it’s working."

He groaned but let Noel tug him out of his shirt.

The bathroom filled with warmth, the kind that sank into tired muscles.

Luca stood under the spray while Noel worked shampoo into his hair, fingers firm and familiar.

"See?" Noel said quietly. "Worth it."

Luca rested his forehead against Noel’s shoulder. "You’re unfair when you’re right."

They didn’t talk much after that. They didn’t need to. The night had already said enough.

Clean and loose-limbed, Luca barely made it to the bed before collapsing face-first into the pillows.

Noel laughed softly, pulling the covers over them both.

Luca turned instinctively, curling into him like it was muscle memory.

Noel’s arm came around his back, hand settling between his shoulder blades, grounding him.

"Still tired?" Noel murmured.

"Mm," Luca said, voice muffled. "But the good kind."

Noel pressed a kiss into his hair. "Sleep."

Luca’s fingers tightened in the fabric of Noel’s shirt, just for a second, like he needed to make sure he was really there.

Outside, the city kept moving.

Inside, everything slowed.

But tonight, they held on to each other like time wasn’t chasing them yet.