Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 233: Unsaid

The street was alive with the hum of evening—neon signs flickering to life, the smell of grilled meat and fried dough drifting from corner stalls, voices blending into the rhythm of a city winding down from its day.

Luca walked slowly, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the familiar row of shops.

His stomach had been quiet all afternoon, too focused on work to notice, but now it growled softly, reminding him.

He stopped in front of a small restaurant tucked between a convenience store and a florist, the kind of place with handwritten menus taped to the window and mismatched chairs inside.

The warm glow spilling onto the sidewalk felt inviting.

He pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over Noel’s name. Then he hesitated.

*He’s probably still working.*

Luca pocketed the phone and pushed the door open. A bell chimed overhead.

"Welcome!" the owner called from behind the counter, wiping his hands on a towel.

Luca nodded politely, stepping up to the display case. "Two orders of the chicken teriyaki set, please. And extra rice for one."

The owner smiled knowingly. "Big appetite tonight?"

"Not for me," Luca said, pulling out his wallet. "For someone who forgets to eat."

The man chuckled, already packing the containers. "Ah, one of those. You’re a good friend."

Luca’s lips curved faintly. "Something like that."

He paid, took the bag, and stepped back into the cool night.

The weight of the food in his hand felt grounding, purposeful.

He checked his phone again—still no message from Noel.

*It’s fine. He’ll be home soon.*

The apartment was quiet when Luca stepped inside, the faint scent of laundry detergent and old coffee lingering in the air.

He set the bag on the table, carefully unpacking both containers and arranging them neatly.

The cat appeared from nowhere, winding between his legs with a soft meow.

"Yeah, I know," Luca murmured, crouching to scratch behind its ears. "You’re hungry too."

He filled the cat’s bowl, then straightened, staring at the table.

Two meals, side by side. Steam still rising faintly from the lids.

He pulled out his phone.

**Luca:** Got dinner. Waiting for you.

The message sat there, delivered but unread.

Luca exhaled slowly and dropped onto the couch, one leg bouncing restlessly.

The cat hopped up beside him, curling into a ball against his thigh.

Minutes ticked by. The food cooled. The apartment stayed quiet.

He picked up his phone again, scrolled through nothing, set it back down.

*He’s just working late. Max probably kept him.*

The thought sat heavier than it should have.

An hour passed. Then another.

Luca didn’t eat. He told himself he wasn’t hungry. Told himself he was just waiting. That it was fine.

But his stomach disagreed, twisting quietly in protest.

He got up, paced to the window, stared out at the city lights. Checked his phone. Still nothing.

The cat watched him from the couch, unimpressed.

"Don’t look at me like that," Luca muttered.

By the time the door finally clicked open, it was past nine.

Luca’s head snapped up.

He was back on the couch, pretending to scroll through his laptop, though he hadn’t absorbed a single word in the last twenty minutes.

Noel stepped inside, bag slung over one shoulder, tie loosened, hair slightly disheveled.

He looked tired—the kind of tired that came from more than just work.

"Hey," Noel said softly, closing the door behind him.

His eyes landed on Luca, then flicked briefly to the table.

Luca stood, forcing a smile. "Hey. You’re late."

"Yeah," Noel said, setting his bag down by the wall. "Sorry. We had to go to the warehouse after the office, then meet the clients for dinner. It ran longer than expected."

Luca’s smile faltered, just slightly. "Dinner?"

Noel nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Mr. Max took the clients out. They asked me to join. It would’ve been rude to say no."

The words landed quietly, but they hit like a stone dropping into still water.

Luca’s gaze shifted to the table—the two containers, lids still on, food long cold.

"Oh," he said, voice carefully even. "That’s... yeah, that makes sense."

Noel followed his gaze, and his expression shifted—something between realization and guilt flickering across his face. "Luca..."

"It’s fine," Luca said quickly, turning away. "I wasn’t that hungry anyway."

"You didn’t eat?" Noel’s voice was soft, worried.

"I’m fine." Luca’s tone was light, but there was an edge beneath it—paper-thin and sharp.

He moved toward the kitchen, opening the fridge even though he had no intention of taking anything out.

He just needed to do something with his hands, needed to not look at Noel’s face.

Behind him, Noel stood frozen, staring at the untouched food on the table.

"I didn’t know you were waiting," Noel said quietly.

Luca’s jaw tightened. "I texted you."

"I didn’t see it. My phone was in my bag during the meeting."

"Right." Luca closed the fridge, still not turning around. "Well, now you’re home. So it doesn’t matter."

The silence stretched, uncomfortable and heavy.

The cat meowed softly, breaking it.

Noel took a step forward. "Luca—"

"Let’s go to bed," Luca said, cutting him off. His voice was calm, controlled, but there was something brittle underneath. "Long day."

He didn’t wait for a response.

He just walked past Noel, shoulder brushing his as he headed down the hallway.

Noel stood there, alone in the dim light of the apartment, staring at the two cold meals on the table.

His hand came up slowly, fingers brushing the edge of one container.

He looked down at it, then back toward the hallway where Luca had disappeared.

"I messed up, didn’t I?" he whispered.

The cat just blinked.

The bedroom was dark except for the faint glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains.

Luca sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing.

He’d pulled off his shirt and tossed it somewhere on the floor.

Now he just sat there, breathing slowly, trying to will the tightness in his chest to loosen.

*It’s not a big deal. He had work. That’s all.*

But it felt like more than that.

The door creaked open softly behind him.

Luca didn’t turn.

Noel stepped inside, hesitant, his footsteps barely audible against the floor.

He closed the door with a quiet click, then stood there for a moment, unsure.

"Hey," Noel said softly.

Luca didn’t answer right away. He just nodded, still facing forward.

Noel moved closer, stopping a few feet away. "Did I... do something wrong?"

Luca let out a breath—half laugh, half sigh. "No."

"You sure?" Noel’s voice was gentle, careful. "Because it feels like—"

"I’m fine, Noel." Luca’s tone was calm, but there was a flatness to it that made the words sting more than if he’d shouted.

Noel flinched slightly. He looked down, fingers twisting together. "I didn’t mean to make you wait. I really didn’t see your text until just now."

"I know." Luca finally turned to look at him, his expression unreadable. "It’s not your fault. You were working."

"Then why does it feel like you’re upset with me?"

Luca held his gaze for a moment, something flickering behind his eyes exhaustion—but he swallowed it down. "I’m not upset. I’m just tired."

Noel wanted to push. He could feel it—the distance between them, the words left unsaid, the weight of something Luca wasn’t telling him.

But he was tired too. Bone-tired.

The kind of tired that made thinking feel like wading through fog.

So he didn’t push.

"Okay," Noel said quietly. "If you say so."

He moved toward his side of the bed, pulling his tie off and folding it carefully on the nightstand.

His movements were slow, deliberate, like he was giving Luca space to say something more.

But Luca didn’t.

He just lay down, turning toward the wall, pulling the blanket up over his shoulder.

Noel stood there for a moment, watching him.

Then he sighed softly and climbed into bed, settling on his side—facing the opposite direction.

The space between them felt wider than it actually was.

The room was silent except for the faint hum of the city outside and the soft rustle of fabric as they both shifted, trying to get comfortable.

Minutes passed.

Neither of them spoke.

Noel stared at the ceiling, his mind replaying the evening—the clients, the dinner, Max’s easy laughter, the way he’d pulled Noel aside after and said, *"You’re doing great. Keep it up."*

It had felt good in the moment. Validating.

But now, lying here in the dark with Luca’s back turned toward him, it felt... hollow.

He wanted to reach out. Wanted to close the distance.

Wanted to ask Luca what was really wrong.

But his hand stayed where it was, resting on the mattress between them.

On the other side, Luca’s eyes were open, staring at the wall.

His chest felt tight, his throat thick with words he didn’t know how to say.

*I just wanted to eat with you. I wanted you to come home to me, not to some dinner with Max and clients who don’t even know your favorite food.*

But he didn’t say any of it.

Because what was the point? Noel had work. Important work. Work that mattered.

And Luca didn’t want to be the kind of person who made that harder.

So he just closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

Behind him, Noel’s breathing eventually slowed, evening out into the rhythm of sleep.

But Luca stayed awake a little longer, the weight of the silence pressing down on him like a blanket he couldn’t kick off.

The cat, curled at the foot of the bed, lifted its head briefly, ears twitching.

Then it yawned and settled back down, unbothered by the quiet storm brewing in the room.

Outside, the city hummed on—oblivious, endless, alive.

Inside, two people lay side by side, close enough to touch but feeling miles apart.