Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 306: Perfectly Weighted

The apartment welcomed them with cool air and silence.

Noel headed straight for the couch, grabbed his laptop from the side table, opened it.

He had emails to answer—two professors asking for final thesis confirmations, one potential employer following up about his application.

He was three sentences into a response when weight landed on top of him.

"Luca—"

"Shh. I’m comfortable."

"I’m working."

"You’re answering emails. That’s not real work." Luca adjusted himself, sprawling fully across Noel’s lap and chest, making typing impossible.

"I can’t see the screen."

"Then don’t look at the screen."

"That defeats the purpose of—"

"Pay attention to me instead."

Noel tried shifting him. "You’re heavy."

"I’m perfectly weighted."

"That’s not a thing."

"It is. I’m the perfect amount of human."

Before Noel could respond, footsteps approached.

Their cat jumped onto the couch, assessed the situation, and promptly climbed onto Luca’s back.

Now Noel had both of them pinning him down.

"This is ridiculous," he said.

"This is cozy," Luca corrected, making himself even more comfortable.

The cat purred, settling in like this was his natural habitat.

"I’m trapped."

"You’re loved. There’s a difference."

Noel gave up, set his laptop on the side table. "Fine. You win."

"I always win."

"Unfortunately accurate."

Luca propped his chin on Noel’s chest, looking up at him. "You know what I was thinking about today?"

"Something ridiculous, I’m sure."

"How you organize your books by subject and then alphabetically within each subject."

"That’s the logical way to organize books."

"It’s unhinged. Who does that?"

"People with functioning brains."

"I just stack mine wherever they fit."

"I’m aware. I’ve seen the disaster that is your side of the shelf."

The cat shifted, stretching across both of them. His purring intensified.

"He’s crushing my ribs," Noel said.

"He’s expressing love."

"Through suffocation."

"The best kind of love."

Luca launched into a story then—something about finding one of his old notebooks from sophomore year and realizing he’d written the same assignment twice because he forgot he’d already done it.

"I told them the second floor pasta is the safest bet," Luca said. "Everything else is questionable."

"Sound advice."

"I’m full of sound advice."

"You told them about the fourth floor bathroom, didn’t you?"

"Obviously. That’s sacred knowledge that must be passed down."

Noel found himself smiling despite the weight on his chest.

Luca kept talking—animated, gestural even while lying down, hands moving as he described things.

"—and then this kid asked if business school was worth it, and I said probably not but we’re all here anyway so might as well commit—"

His voice got slower. Softer. The pauses between sentences stretched longer.

Eventually, he fell silent completely, just breathing.

Asleep.

The cat was already out, little snores barely audible.

Noel lay there, trapped but not minding, looking at Luca’s face relaxed in sleep.

A year ago, Luca had been just his roommate.

Annoying, scattered, always forgetting to clean his mess, shirtless flirty.

Noel had spent half of the time irritated by his mere existence.

And then somewhere along the way, irritation became tolerance became fondness became this.

This person sprawled on top of him, trusting enough to fall asleep mid-conversation.

This routine of coming home together, existing in the same space, building something neither of them had planned.

Noel’s hand moved almost unconsciously, brushing hair back from Luca’s forehead.

"I love you," he said quietly.

Luca didn’t stir.

Noel closed his own eyes, the weight of his boyfriend and cat pinning him in place, and let himself rest.

---

He woke to Luca shifting, the movement jostling him.

"What time is it?" Luca mumbled.

"No idea."

The cat had relocated to the armchair at some point. Luca sat up slowly, stretching.

"I’m starving."

"When aren’t you starving?"

"Valid point." Luca pulled out his phone, squinted at the screen. "Six thirty. We slept for two hours."

"Apparently."

"Food?"

"What do you want?"

"Everything. Anything. Feed me."

Noel grabbed his phone, opened the delivery app. "Chinese?"

"Perfect."

He ordered their usual—too much food for two people, but they’d eat leftovers tomorrow. Confirmed the order, set his phone aside.

"Shower before it gets here," he told Luca.

"Why?"

"Because you’re gross."

"Rude but accurate."

Luca disappeared into the bathroom. Noel heard the water start, lay back on the couch for another minute before forcing himself up.

The apartment needed straightening—books scattered across the coffee table, Luca’s shoes kicked off in random locations, two empty mugs on the kitchen counter.

He was putting the mugs in the sink when someone knocked.

The delivery driver handed over two bags of food, still hot.

Noel brought them inside, started unpacking containers onto the counter.

The shower shut off. Luca emerged a few minutes later in clean clothes, hair damp, immediately heading for the food.

"Don’t start without me," Noel said, heading for the bathroom.

"No promises!"

He showered quickly, emerged to find Luca already eating straight from one of the containers.

"You couldn’t wait five minutes?"

"I’m a growing boy."

"You’re not."

"Still growing. Emotionally."

"That’s not how that works."

Luca grinned around a mouthful of noodles.

They ate standing at the counter, passing containers back and forth, arguing about whether the spring rolls were better than last time.

"They’re the same," Noel said.

"These are crispier."

"They’re identical."

"Your taste buds are broken."

After they finished, Luca pulled out his phone, flopped back on the couch.

Some mobile game loaded—bright colors, annoying music.

"Want to play?" he asked.

"No."

"Come on. It’s fun."

"You always win."

"So?"

"So when you win, you make me do things."

"Terrible things," Luca agreed, grinning. "Like kiss you. Or tell you you’re pretty. Or—"

"That’s exactly why I’m not playing."

"Coward."

"Self-preservationist."

Luca played alone while Noel cleaned up dinner.

By the time he finished, Luca had apparently won whatever he was playing, making victorious noises.

"You’re missing out," Luca called.

"I’m surviving."

Around nine, they migrated to the bedroom. Changed for sleep, slid under the covers.

Luca immediately curled into Noel’s side, head on his chest.

"Tell me something," he said.

"Like what?"

"Anything. A story. A thought. Whatever."

Noel considered. "When I was ten, I tried to build a treehouse."

"Yeah?"

"Failed spectacularly. Fell out of the tree halfway through, broke my arm."

"That’s tragic."

"My dad said it built character."

"Did it?"

"Mostly it built awareness that I’m not good with my hands."

Luca’s fingers traced patterns on his ribs, gentle and absent. "I think you’re good with your hands."

"That’s different."

"How?"

"That’s—" Noel stopped. "We’re not having this conversation."

"Why not?"

"Because you’ll make it inappropriate."

"I would never."

"You absolutely would."

Luca laughed quietly, the sound vibrating against Noel’s chest.

They lay in comfortable silence for a while.

Outside, the city hummed its usual evening song—distant traffic, someone’s music, the occasional siren.

"Noel?" Luca said eventually.

"Mm?"

"I want to live with you. After graduation. Wherever we end up."

"We already live together."

"I mean really live together. Like, this is our place. Our furniture. Our lease. Both our names on everything."

"Okay."

"Just okay?"

"What else do you want me to say?"

"I don’t know. Something more romantic?" Luca propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at him in the dim light. "I’m planning our future here. I’m saying I’ll probably marry you someday. You could act a little more excited."

Noel laughed, the sound quiet in the darkness. "You’ll *probably* marry me?"

"Definitely marry you. That better?"

"Slightly."

"So?"

"So yes, obviously. We’ll get an apartment. Put both our names on the lease. Buy furniture that actually matches." Noel’s hand moved to Luca’s hair, fingers carding through it slowly. "I don’t care where we work or what jobs we take. As long as we’re doing it together."

"Good."

"Is that what you were worried about? Earlier?"

"A little. Just wanted to hear you say it."

"I’ll say it as many times as you need."

Luca tilted his head down, found Noel’s mouth in the dim light. Kissed him slowly, thoroughly, taking his time.

When they broke apart, both a little breathless, Luca settled back down, but kept his face close to Noel’s.

"I mean it, you know," Luca whispered. "About marrying you."

Noel’s breath caught. "You’re serious."

"Completely serious." Luca’s fingers found Noel’s, threading together in the darkness. "I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You’re it for me. You’ve always been it."

"Even when I annoyed you?"

"Especially then. You annoyed me because you mattered. Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you." Luca pressed a kiss to Noel’s jaw, soft and deliberate. "I love you. I’m going to love you for the rest of my life. Might as well make it official."

Noel pulled him closer, both arms wrapping around him. "Then yes. Whenever we’re ready, I’m ready."

"Promise?"

"Mmm. Promise."

Luca’s breathing evened out gradually, his weight becoming heavier as he relaxed into sleep, a small smile still on his face.

Noel stayed awake a while longer, just existing in this moment.

The warmth of Luca against him, the quiet of their home, the certainty of their future together—a life built on purpose rather than chance.

Eventually, his own eyes drifted closed, Luca’s hand still clasped in his.

Tomorrow was Thursday. One more orientation day, then their night out with everyone.

Then Friday. Then Saturday. Graduation.

But right now, nothing needed to change at all.

This was perfect exactly as it was.