Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 290: The Efficiency of Love

The week flow.

The cursor blinked at Luca. Mocking him.

He deleted the last paragraph for the third time, scrolled back up, reread the section.

Still wrong. Something about the methodology didn’t flow—his argument fell apart halfway through like a house built on sand.

The library hummed around him. Quiet keystrokes, the rustle of pages, someone’s phone vibrating against wood.

Luca pressed his palms against his eyes. His capstone was due for review in four days, and right now it read like three different papers fighting for dominance.

A coffee cup appeared beside his laptop. Still steaming.

Luca looked up. Noel stood there, messenger bag slung over one shoulder, hair slightly disheveled from the wind outside.

He held his own cup—tea, probably, because Noel claimed coffee after 2 PM made him jittery.

"You looked like you needed reinforcements," Noel said, sliding into the chair across from him.

"You’re done already?"

"Lecture ran short. Prof cancelled the last twenty minutes." Noel took a sip, studied Luca over the rim. "How long have you been making that face?"

"What face?"

"The one where you look like your laptop personally offended you."

Luca slumped back. "Two hours. Maybe three."

"That bad?"

"It doesn’t make sense. The whole middle section—it’s like I’m arguing two different points and neither of them connects to my thesis."

Noel set his cup down. "Let me see?"

Luca turned the laptop toward him, grateful. Noel’s eyes tracked across the screen, scrolling slowly.

His brow furrowed in that way it did when he was thinking, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"Here," he said finally, tapping the screen. "You’re trying to bridge two frameworks that don’t actually overlap. You need to pick one and commit, or find a better transition that acknowledges why you’re shifting approaches."

Luca leaned forward, reread the section. "Oh."

"See it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do." He pulled the laptop back, fingers already moving. "How did you catch that so fast?"

Noel smiled. "Prof ripped my capstone apart for the same thing. Spent an hour in her office explaining why I couldn’t just smash two theories together and hope for the best."

"Sounds traumatic."

"Character building." Noel watched him type, something fond in his expression. "Better?"

Luca reread the new paragraph. The argument tightened, clicked into place. "So much better. Thank you."

"That’s what I’m here for. Emotional support."

Luca saved the document, closed his laptop. His brain felt wrung out. "You hungry?"

"Starving, actually."

They gathered their things, headed outside.

The afternoon had turned crisp, autumn settling into the city properly now. Leaves skittered across the sidewalk.

Halfway down the block, Luca stopped. "Wait."

A new storefront—bright yellow sign, cartoon taco with a sombrero, hand-painted letters that read Taquería Dos Hermanos.

"When did that open?" Noel asked.

"I don’t know, but we’re going."

"Luca—"

"We’re going." Luca was already crossing the street.

Inside smelled like cilantro and lime and charred meat.

The menu was simple, handwritten on a chalkboard. A woman behind the counter smiled at them.

"First time?" she asked.

"Is it that obvious?" Luca said.

"You have the look. What can I get you?"

"Al pastor," Luca said without hesitation. "Noel?"

Noel studied the board. "Carnitas. And a horchata."

They found a small table by the window.

The tacos arrived fast—corn tortillas, meat glistening, topped with onions and cilantro and a squeeze of lime.

Luca bit into his. Closed his eyes. "Oh my god."

"Good?"

"Life-changing."

Noel tried his own, made a small sound of approval.

They ate in comfortable silence, the kind that came from knowing each other well enough that conversation didn’t need to fill every gap.

"I should get back," Noel said eventually, wadding up his napkin. "Evening lecture at five."

"I’m going home. Try to finish this monster."

They parted on the sidewalk—Noel heading back toward campus, Luca toward their apartment.

The walk took fifteen minutes, just long enough for Luca’s thoughts to spiral back to his capstone, mentally rearranging sections.

At home, Luca set up at the kitchen table. Laptop open, notes spread around him, mug of tea going cold at his elbow.

The apartment was quiet except for the radiator’s occasional clank and the cat soft snoring from the couch.

He worked steadily, the hours dissolving.

Rewrote the methodology section, strengthened his conclusion, fixed the transitions that had been bothering him.

The document finally felt like it had a spine.

The front door opened.

Luca didn’t look up, too focused on fixing a citation.

Arms wrapped around him from behind. Noel’s chin hooked over his shoulder, his breath warm against Luca’s neck.

Luca smiled, the tension draining from his shoulders. "Hey."

"Hey yourself. How’s it going?"

"Good. Really good, actually." Luca gestured at the screen. "I think I’m almost done. Just need to polish it and I can submit Monday."

"Proud of you."

Noel pressed a kiss to his temple, then straightened. "I’m feeding the cat and taking a shower. You want anything?"

"I’m good."

Noel disappeared into the kitchen.

Luca heard the soft rattle of Miso’s food bowl, the cat’s immediate appearance and demanding meow.

The bathroom door closed. Water started running.

Luca saved his work, picked up his phone.

Three messages from Jordan.

Jordan: yo

dead night at the bar

come save me from boredom

Luca typed back: busy. capstone.

Jordan: bring noel. drinks on me

Luca: focusing on capstone

Jordan: ONE drink. don’t be boring

The water shut off. Luca heard the shower curtain slide back.

When Noel emerged—hair damp, wearing his worn shirt and flannel pants—Luca was waiting.

"No," Noel said immediately.

"I didn’t say anything."

"You have the look."

"What look?"

"The one where you want something and you’re going to be annoying until I say yes."

Luca grinned. "Jordan wants us to come to the bar."

"It’s a weeknight."

"I know." 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

"We have finals."

"I know."

"Luca—"

"One hour. Two drinks. We’ll be home by nine."

Noel sighed, but he was already retreating to the bedroom. "Two drinks. I’m serious."

"Scout’s honor."

"You were never a scout."

Luca changed quickly—jeans, sweater, jacket. By the time he was ready, Noel was lacing up his boots by the door, resigned but amused.

The bar was quiet for a Friday. A few regulars at the counter, couple in the corner booth, soft indie music playing from the speakers. Jordan looked up when they walked in, face brightening.

"There they are. Thought you’d abandoned me."

"We almost did," Noel said, sliding onto a barstool.

"Rude." Jordan was already pouring. "Something cool?"

"Please."

Jordan set two glasses down beer for Noel, something amber for Luca.

They talked about nothing much—Jordan’s terrible Tinder date earlier that week, Noel’s dissertation progress, the new taco place they’d discovered.

Luca finished his drink. Jordan refilled it without asking.

"How’s the capstone?" Jordan asked.

"Almost done. Just needs—" Luca gestured vaguely, "—polishing."

"That’s code for ’I’ll rewrite it six more times,’" Noel said.

"I don’t rewrite that much."

"You rewrote your intro four times."

"That was different."

Jordan laughed, launched into a story about his own undergraduate thesis disaster.

Noel got pulled into the conversation, and Luca nursed his second drink, then his third.

The bar was warm. The conversation flowed easy. Luca felt loose, comfortable, happy.

"—and that’s when I realized I’d cited the wrong author for my entire lit review," Jordan was saying.

Noel winced. "Ouch."

"Ouch is right. Had to redo twenty pages in—" Jordan stopped, looking past Noel. "Uh oh."

Noel turned.

Luca was smiling at him, chin propped on his hand, eyes soft and unfocused.

"How many did he have?" Noel asked.

Jordan checked the bottles almost empty. "Four? Maybe five? Whatever."

"Luca."

"Hi." Luca’s smile widened. "You’re so pretty."

"We’re going home."

"But I’m having fun."

"I can tell." Noel stood, pulled out his wallet.

"Don’t worry about it," Jordan said, waving him off. "Just get him home safe."

"Thanks." Noel helped Luca off the stool. "Come on, lightweight."

"I’m not a lightweight. I’m efficient."

The walk home was slow. Luca kept stopping to point out things—a cat in a window, the moon between buildings, how nice Noel’s hand felt in his.

"I love you," Luca said suddenly. "Like, so much. Do you know that?"

"I might have heard."

"No, but really." Luca stopped walking, tugged Noel to face him. "I really really love you. You’re—you’re everything."

Noel’s cheeks colored. "You’re drunk."

"Doesn’t make it less true."

"Come on." But Noel was smiling.

They made it to the apartment. Noel guided Luca to the bedroom, helped him out of his jacket. Luca flopped onto the bed, pulling Noel down with him.

"Noel."

"Yeah?"

"You know I love you, right?"

"You mentioned it."

Luca kissed his cheek. His nose. His forehead. His other cheek. "Just making sure."

Noel laughed, soft and fond. He should get up—brush his teeth, change clothes, do all the things he always did before bed.

But Luca was warm against him, still pressing kisses to whatever part of his face he could reach, mumbling about how lucky he was.

"Noel."

"Mm?"

"I Love you."

"Love you too."

Luca’s breathing evened out. Noel watched him in the dim light filtering through the curtains, this person he’d somehow gotten to keep.

Noel stayed still, listening to Luca’s breathing settle into something deeper, heavier.

One arm was flung over Noel’s waist, fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt like he was afraid the night might take something away if he let go.

"You’re going to regret this in the morning," Noel murmured softly.

Luca made a vague sound, more hum than word, pressing closer instead.

Noel smiled despite himself.

He shifted just enough to see Luca’s face in the low light the soft line of his mouth, lashes resting against flushed cheeks, the faint crease between his brows that never fully disappeared even when he slept.

Drunk or sober, anxious or confident, Luca always carried so much feeling so close to the surface.

Noel brushed his thumb gently across Luca’s cheek.

"So dramatic," he whispered, fond. "You say all this sober, too, you know."

Luca’s lips curved, barely there. "Yeah," he mumbled. "But now you believe me."

Noel huffed a quiet laugh.

He leaned down, pressing a slow kiss to Luca’s forehead, lingering there longer than necessary. Then another, to his temple. Careful. Unrushed. Like he was memorizing the moment.

"You did good today," Noel said softly, even though Luca probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning. "You worked hard. You didn’t give up. I’m really proud of you."

Luca shifted again, cheek rubbing against Noel’s chest. "Stay," he murmured.

"I’m not going anywhere."

Satisfied, Luca finally went still.

Noel lay there, staring up at the ceiling, heart full in that quiet, aching way that came from realizing—suddenly and unmistakably that this was it.

Not the grand milestones or future plans. Just this. Being trusted. Being wanted. Being chosen in the small hours of an ordinary night.

Outside, the city hummed on.

Inside, Luca slept with his whole body turned toward him, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

Noel closed his eyes, letting the moment hold them both.

For tonight, that was more than enough.