Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 311: Off Duty

The alarm blinked 7:29 AM. A soft chime, precise, deliberate.

Luca’s eyes snapped open. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—small, controlled, but present. Today wasn’t ordinary.

He swung his legs off the bed, movements quick but measured.

Morning routine executed like clockwork: shower, shave, dress.

Crisp shirt, tailored trousers, jacket draped over the chair to grab on the way out.

Shoes polished, socks aligned. Everything in its place. Everything ready.

Downstairs. His driver, already attentive, nodded as Luca descended the steps.

"Morning," Luca said.

"Morning, sir."

Luca stepped in, the interior cool and quiet. The city outside was still stretching awake.

Ten minutes to the office. Ten minutes to the day that had been waiting for him while he slept.

He leaned back, fingers lightly brushing the leather armrest. No phone. No distractions. Just the faint hum of the engine, the rising sun, and the city already in motion.

Traffic moved smoothly. Lights changed in rhythm with his calm breathing. His mind reviewed the day ahead: meetings, approvals, reports, decisions that would ripple long after he left.

The office building appeared, its sleek silhouette cutting into the morning sky.

Luca straightened in his seat, jacket squared, eyes forward.

Tomorrow would be tomorrow. Today—today was here.

He opened the car door and stepped out. The driver nodded once.

Luca adjusted his collar, glanced up at the building, and walked toward the entrance.

The day was ready. So was he.

Luca pushed through the revolving doors. The lobby was already humming—lights, people moving with purpose, the faint murmur of early conversations.

He passed security with a nod, steps measured. The elevator doors opened, and he stepped in.

On the executive level, the doors slid open to a quieter rhythm.

Luca’s office corridor stretched ahead, glass panels on either side.

Jane was waiting outside his office, tablet in hand, eyes bright and sharp.

"Morning," she said smoothly. "Board memo revisions are ready. Finance flagged the procurement reassignment. Legal sent updates on the partnership contract. Operations requested confirmation on Q3 deliverables."

Luca closed the door, letting the click echo faintly. He set his jacket over the back of his chair, then turned to the tablet Jane held.

"Let’s start with finance," he said, voice calm, deliberate. "What’s the concern?"

Jane tapped quickly, bringing up a spreadsheet. "Procurement wants to delay reassignments due to workload. They’re requesting an exception to your approval cap."

Luca’s eyes flicked over the numbers, scanning, precise. "No exceptions. Adjust the workload. Results are priority. We’ll review again next week."

Jane nodded, recording the decision. "Legal approved the partnership revisions, but flagged a clause on vendor liability."

"Highlight the clause. Send it to my tablet. I’ll review after the finance call."

She typed swiftly. "Regional call starts in fifteen."

"Good. And the Q3 deliverables?"

"All aligned with your notes from yesterday. Operations will submit the revised workflow proposal by Monday."

Luca leaned back slightly, eyes moving to the skyline beyond the glass.

Morning sunlight poured in, brushing across polished surfaces.

His mind ticked through the day—calls, approvals, memos—but the rhythm was familiar. Predictable. Controllable.

Jane spoke only when necessary, presenting updates and options.

Luca absorbed them, weighed decisions, and responded with quiet authority. No theatrics. No wasted motion.

Fifteen minutes later, the office settled into a low hum.

Luca’s phone pinged softly on the desk—a notification from operations—but he ignored it.

He allowed himself a breath. Not a sigh. Just... acknowledgment.

"Anything else before the call?" he asked.

"No," Jane said. "You’re clear."

He nodded, straightened the collar of his shirt, and turned toward the screen.

The day had begun, precise and demanding.

Luca didn’t rush. He didn’t falter.

He was ready.

Every meeting, every call, every decision measured and precise. Yet despite the flow, Luca’s thumb kept brushing the screen of his phone. A message. A ping. Another alert.

Not urgent. Not yet. But he checked anyway. Twice. Three times.

Jane stepped in around noon, tablet in hand, poised to brief him on the next sequence of approvals.

Before she could speak, Luca held up a hand. His eyes were calm, but there was an edge beneath the composure.

"Cancel everything," he said.

Jane blinked. "Everything, sir?"

"Today. All calls. All meetings. Send notice. I’ll handle the reschedules myself."

She hesitated, then nodded. "Understood."

Luca didn’t wait for questions. He rose from his chair, jacket brushing against the back, and moved toward the door.

The driver was already at the car, keys in hand. He looked up, attentive.

"I’ll drive," Luca said, taking the keys.

The driver’s nod was slight, knowing better than to insist.

Luca slid behind the wheel, the leather cool against his hands.

Sunlight angled through the windshield, catching the sharp line of his jaw. A quick adjustment of collar. Fingers ran through hair once. Breath even.

The engine purred to life. He pressed a few buttons on the dashboard. GPS lit up.

Destination: Airport.

Traffic moved lazily at first, the city waking fully around him.

He kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his lap, eyes occasionally flicking to the phone beside him.

His thoughts didn’t wander. They sharpened.

Every detail—air traffic time, distance, the way light hit the road—folded into his mind like calculations.

The GPS voice was calm. "Proceed straight for two kilometers."

He did.

Brake. Turn. Accelerate. The hum of the engine, the rhythm of tires on asphalt.

The city blurred. Buildings stretched, sunlight turned softer, longer.

He leaned back slightly, shoulders rolling, a tiny release of tension he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

And still, beneath it all—a quiet urgency driving him forward.

The airport hum was different from the office—lighter, warmer, full of movement.

Luca’s foot tapped lightly against the curb as the Singapore flight’s arrival board blinked. Passengers spilled into the hall.

Then he saw him.

Noel.

Stepping off the escalator, smooth and confident, elegant in a tailored shirt, hair perfectly in place, the faintest hint of weariness still making him human.

Hands in pockets, eyes scanning, that slight lift of his brow when he found what he was looking for.

Luca froze. Just for a heartbeat. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Then the smile broke—slow, real, irrepressible.

The Executive vanished in an instant.

Here was Luca.

He stepped forward, shoulders relaxing, voice catching its playful rhythm.

"Hey Mr." he said, clearing his throat with mock formality, gesturing to the car. "I’m your driver. Car’s ready."

Noel’s lips curved into a sly grin. "Isn’t that... the Director himself?"

Luca lifted a brow, smiling wider. "Nope. Off duty. This is your personal driver."

A pause, then Noel laughed softly—a sound that made Luca’s chest tighten. "My personal driver, huh?"

"Exactly. One and only." Luca’s voice dipped just enough to be intimate, playful.

He took Noel’s bag from his hand, set it neatly in the back seat, then opened the car door with exaggerated flourish.

Noel paused, teasing glint in his eyes. "Hmm... then I suppose I should sit in the backseat?"

Luca tilted his head, smirk creeping back. "Backseat’s optional. But I’m still in control of the route."

Noel laughed again, stepping past him. "Very well. Driver Luca, lead the way."

Luca closed the door, slid into the driver’s seat, adjusted the mirror, then started the engine.

The city lights blurred as the car rolled onto the street.

"Driving yourself, huh?" Noel asked from behind, eyes glinting in the low light.

"I prefer it," Luca replied. "Keeps me awake."

Noel leaned back slightly. "So... Mr. Director on the streets, mischievous driver at the airport?"

"Depends on the passenger." Luca’s hand rested lightly on the gearshift. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, catching Noel’s. "Certain people get the full package."

Noel’s lips twitched. "Oh really?"

"Really." Luca’s voice dropped. "And some get extra perks."

Noel tilted his head, mock curiosity. "Such as?"

Luca smiled. "Conversation. Teasing. Flirtation. And maybe... kisses."

Noel leaned forward slightly, faint laugh escaping. "You just described yourself, didn’t you?"

"I did." Luca’s voice softened. "Can’t help it. Certain people bring it out of me."

Noel’s grin widened. "Good. I’ve missed that."

"Missed me being your driver?" Luca teased. "Or just me?"

"Both," Noel said, eyes sparkling. "But mostly... just you."

Luca glanced at him, heart lifting.

All executive precision and command gone now, replaced with the Luca Noel knew. Soft smile, hands steady, voice playful.

The car glided through evening streets, headlights stretching over pavement, neon signs flickering softly.

Luca kept his eyes on the road, but his attention was half on Noel—sitting relaxed, faint smile tugging at his lips.

"So," Noel began, casual but teasing, "are you always this... proper when you’re behind the wheel?"

Luca glanced at him through the mirror, one brow raised. "Depends on the passenger. Some people make me forget all formalities."

"Oh really?" Noel leaned slightly forward. "And some people... bring out the old mischievous driver?"

Luca smirked. "Exactly. Some people get the full package."

Noel chuckled, warm and amused. "The ’full package,’ huh? Does that include teasing me mercilessly?"

"You’ve earned it." Luca’s voice dropped, playful. "Consider it... a reward for surviving Singapore without me."

"Surviving, or being the sane one?" Noel countered. "Because from what I hear, ED Luca doesn’t mess around."

"Not at work," Luca admitted. "But off duty? Some privileges exist."

Noel’s laugh was quiet. "Privileges,?"

"Yes." Luca’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror again. "Certain people get conversation. Teasing. Attention. Extra perks."

Noel leaned back. "I see. And what else? What’s the ’extra perk’ for enduring driver Luca?"

Luca’s smirk deepened. "You’ll have to find out. Depends on your performance as a passenger."

"Oh, I always perform," Noel said lightly. "I hope you’re ready for it."

Luca’s hands flexed on the wheel. "I was born ready. But some people... they make me forget even that."

A pause stretched, soft and charged.

"You know," Noel said, softer now, "you being this... playful, this... real—it’s dangerous. Makes me expect too much."

Luca’s lips curved. "Then I guess you’ll just have to keep up."

Noel’s smile widened, leaning back comfortably, as if silently accepting the challenge.

And for Luca, behind the wheel, the city blurring past, the evening air cool through the slightly open window—it felt like the first time in months he was simply himself again.

Flirty. Teasing. Alive.

The car moved on, smooth and deliberate, carrying them toward home, toward the quiet of the apartment, toward whatever came next.

Together.

In their rhythm.

Banter wrapping around them like a familiar, invisible thread.