Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 315: Cartoon Husbands

If audio player doesn't work, press Reset or reload the page.
Chapter 315: Cartoon Husbands

The car eased into the familiar curb, tires crunching softly over the pavement.

Luca cut the engine, the hum fading into quiet, leaving only the city’s distant glow and the soft click of seatbelts being undone.

Noel leaned back, stretching slightly, hair falling over his forehead. "That was... exhausting."

"Not nearly as exhausting as singing it correctly," Luca teased, hand still brushing against his.

Noel laughed, shoving him playfully. "You were worse than me!"

"Obviously," Luca replied with mock severity, opening the door for him. "After all, I am your personal driver tonight."

Noel shook his head, stepping out into the soft night air. "If you’re my driver, then I demand a proper seat. Backseat, obviously."

"Backseat? Absolutely not," Luca said, following him out, smirking. "You’re my passenger, not my boss."

They moved toward the apartment together, fingers still intertwined, teasing and laughing lightly with each step.

The glow of the hall lights welcomed them home, warm and familiar.

Inside, the apartment wrapped around them like a favorite sweater—lived-in, comfortable, theirs.

The cat appeared immediately, tail flicking energetically, weaving between their legs with purpose.

Noel knelt, feeding him first, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "Someone’s dramatic tonight."

"He learned from you," Luca murmured, leaning against the doorframe, watching with quiet fondness.

Noel glanced up. "I’m not dramatic."

"You absolutely are."

"Name one time."

"Singapore airport. You texted me seventeen times about your flight being delayed."

"That was justified concern."

"It was a fifteen-minute delay."

Noel stood, crossing his arms. "I wanted you to have accurate information." 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

"You sent me live updates with timestamps."

"Quality communication."

Luca grinned, stepping closer. "Come on. Shower."

"Together?" Noel asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Efficient," Luca replied, already moving toward the bedroom.

Noel followed, shaking his head but smiling.

In the bedroom, Noel slipped off his jacket, hanging it carefully on the back of the chair.

Luca was already tugging his shirt over his head, tossing it vaguely in the direction of the hamper.

"You missed," Noel observed.

"I’ll get it later."

"You won’t."

"Probably not," Luca admitted, stepping closer. His hands found Noel’s waist, fingertips brushing the hem of his shirt. "Want some company?"

Before Noel could answer, Luca kissed him—slow, deliberate, the kind of kiss that had no urgency but all the intention in the world.

Noel responded, hands sliding up Luca’s arms, over his shoulders, into his hair.

They moved together toward the bathroom, clothing falling away piece by piece, kisses deepening between soft laughter and whispered names.

The shower turned on, steam curling around them as water began to fall.

Luca pressed Noel against the cool tile, lips trailing from his mouth to his jaw to his neck, hands mapping familiar territory like he was memorizing it all over again.

Noel’s fingers traced the lines of Luca’s back, feeling muscles shift under skin, grounding himself in the warmth and weight of him.

Water cascaded over them, amplifying every touch, every quiet sound.

They moved together in that intimate rhythm they’d perfected over years—tender and passionate, playful and intense, entirely theirs.

Time dissolved. There was only skin and steam and the particular kind of closeness that came from knowing someone completely.

When they finally emerged, wrapped in towels, the bathroom mirror was completely fogged over.

Luca was already shaking his head like a dog, water droplets flying everywhere.

Noel narrowed his eyes. "Stop."

"What?" Luca blinked innocently.

"You’re getting water everywhere."

"It’s drying naturally."

"It’s attacking me naturally."

Luca laughed and flicked his towel again on purpose.

Noel sighed. "You’re unbelievable."

"I’m efficient," Luca argued, stepping closer. "Come here."

"Why?"

Luca lifted his towel. "I’m helping."

"With what?"

"With your hair."

"My hair is fine."

Luca started drying it anyway, careful and slow, fingers brushing through damp strands with surprising gentleness.

Noel’s voice softened despite himself. "You should dry your own first."

"I am multitasking."

"You’re making it worse."

"I’m making it romantic."

Noel huffed. "Dry. Your. Own."

Luca grinned. "Bossy."

"Whatever."

When they were finally done, Noel opened the drawer for pajamas.

He froze.

Then slowly turned his head.

"...Luca."

Luca, already smiling, said, "Yes?"

Noel held up the matching pajamas between two fingers like they were evidence in court.

"...What is this."

Luca’s grin widened. "Our pajamas."

"No. These are not pajamas."

"They are. Look, they have little—"

"No, don’t explain the pattern."

"They’re cute!" Luca tilted his head, did that look—half hopeful, half mischievous. "I bought them for us."

"They’re ridiculous."

"They’re comfortable."

Noel stared. "We look like cartoon husbands."

"That’s the goal."

"That is not a goal."

Luca leaned against the dresser, entirely too pleased. "Come on. We’re home. No one’s watching."

"What if someone comes over?"

"At midnight?"

"What if someone dies and needs help."

Luca blinked. "Why would someone die outside our door."

"I don’t know. Life happens."

Luca burst out laughing. "So your argument is: we can’t wear comfy pajamas because of hypothetical death emergencies?"

Noel crossed his arms. "Yes."

Luca nodded seriously. "Valid."

Noel waited.

Luca added, "Still wearing them."

Noel muttered, "I hate you."

"You love me."

"...Unfortunately."

They changed, and the second Noel saw himself fully dressed, he groaned.

Luca looked over, delighted. "Oh my god."

Noel deadpanned. "Don’t."

"You look adorable."

"I look like a man who has lost all his dignity."

"You look like my man." Luca whispered.

Noel rolled his eyes and climbed into bed.

Luca followed, still smiling, still buzzing with energy like it was noon instead of midnight.

The soft hum of the city outside barely reached the apartment; inside, the world had narrowed to Noel, the bed, and the low, steady glow of the lamp.

The cat had already claimed the foot of the bed, curling into a perfect circle, tail wrapped neatly around himself, eyes blinking sleepily.

Noel pulled the blanket up, tugging it under his chin. "Sleep."

"I am sleeping."

"You’re talking."

"I can talk and sleep."

"No, you can’t."

Luca turned his head toward him, eyes catching the faint light from the window. "Yesterday at the airport, you smiled at me first."

Noel blinked slowly, eyes heavy. "What?"

"You did. You smiled before I even said anything."

Noel sighed, brushing a loose strand of hair from his forehead. "Luca—"

"And then in the car, you hummed that song and you were off-key—"

"I was not off-key," Noel countered, the edge of a yawn in his voice.

"You were."

"You were worse."

Noel’s lips twitched into the faintest smirk, the sort of expression that made Luca’s chest tighten.

"That’s not the point. The point is, you came home."

Noel’s expression softened, just slightly, the warmth there like sunlight behind clouds.

Luca’s chest lifted, satisfaction barely contained, but he pressed on, needing the words, needing the rhythm of connection before sleep could settle them.

"And the cat missed you. He pretended he didn’t, but he did. Also, I think he’s gaining weight. We should put him on a diet. Or maybe I’m projecting. Because I ate two pastries this morning—"

Noel stared at the ceiling, utterly done with him. "Luca."

"Mm?"

"Please."

"I’m just saying, if we ever get another cat, we should name it Noel Jr."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I’m not competing with a cat for attention."

Luca gasped dramatically, sitting up slightly on one elbow. "You’re jealous too!"

"I am not," Noel mumbled, turning onto his side, blanket tucked under his shoulder.

"You are," Luca insisted, stretching one arm lazily over Noel’s waist.

"Sleep."

Luca scooted closer, careful not to wake him fully. "One more thing."

Noel closed his eyes. "If you say one more thing, I will actually bite you."

Luca leaned in, brushing his lips along the shell of Noel’s ear. "Would it be romantic or violent?"

Noel cracked one eye open, gave a tiny, exasperated huff. "Goodnight."

Luca smiled, completely unbothered. "Goodnight."

Noel closed his eyes again.

Silence lasted exactly three seconds.

Then Noel made an exaggerated snoring sound, soft and deliberate.

Luca paused, hiding a grin.

The smile softened, became tender. He leaned in, kissing Noel’s temple—gentle, warm, the kind of kiss that lingered just long enough to be remembered in dreams.

Noel’s eyes snapped open. "Oh my god," he groaned. "You’re impossible."

"You were fake snoring."

"I was trying to survive," Noel mumbled, turning his face toward the pillow.

Luca chuckled quietly, settling down at last, his arm sliding around Noel’s waist with ease.

Fingers tangled in hair, thumb tracing a lazy circle along the small of his back.

His voice lowered, steady and intimate now. "...I missed you."

Noel didn’t answer immediately.

Then, barely audible, a whisper that made Luca’s heart unclench: "I’m here."

Luca exhaled slowly, letting a tension he hadn’t realized he’d carried seep away.

This time, he didn’t fill the silence with words.

He just stayed. Hands warm, chest pressed lightly against Noel’s back, the steady rhythm of breathing and heartbeat syncing.

He let his gaze wander briefly to the fogged bathroom mirror from earlier, the little pile of clothes folded and abandoned, the cat’s soft snores at the foot of the bed.

Home was alive in these small things.

Slowly, Noel’s breathing evened out, deep and rhythmic.

Luca shifted slightly, letting his forehead rest gently against the back of Noel’s neck.

The warmth, the scent, the quiet intimacy—it was all here, contained in this tiny corner of the apartment, in this exact moment.

The ridiculous pajamas, the playful teasing, the small domestic routines—they weren’t trivial.

They were the language of comfort, of belonging, of love lived quietly but completely.

The cat stretched at their feet, tail flicking, then curled again with a contented sigh.

Outside, the city hummed its endless song, lights flickering like distant fireflies.

Inside, everything was exactly where it needed to be.

Luca stayed awake a little longer, simply watching, memorizing, the smallest movements of Noel’s face in the lamp’s glow, the rise and fall of his chest, the softness of the pause before sleep claimed him fully.

And somewhere deep down, Luca knew—tonight, he could have stayed like this forever.