Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL] Chapter 245: Heart in Transit

The apartnt greeted him with its familiar silence—the kind that used to feel comforting but now just felt empty.

Luca closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a mont, eyes closed, letting the weight of the evening settle over him.

The conversation with his father replayed in his mind—the condition, the compromise, the promise he’d made.

*Tomorrow.*

He pushed off the door and moved through the living room, flipping on lights as he went.

The cat appeared from the bedroom, stretching lazily, tail high, completely unbothered by Luca’s internal turmoil.

"Hey, buddy," Luca murmured, crouching down to scratch behind its ears. The cat purred, leaning into his touch. "Big day tomorrow."

The cat blinked slowly, as if to say *whatever you say, human.*

Luca stood, exhaling slowly, and headed to the bedroom.

His suitcase sat in the closet—dusty, unused for months.

He pulled it out, setting it on the bed with a soft thud, the zippers stiff as he opened it.

*Pack light. You’re only staying a few days.*

He moved to the dresser, pulling open drawers thodically.

T-shirts. Jeans. A nicer button-down in case they went sowhere he didn’t know Noel’s plans, didn’t know what surprises awaited.

Socks. Underwear. His hands moved on autopilot, folding, placing, organizing.

His phone sat on the nightstand, screen dark and silent.

No new ssages from Noel.

He’s probably asleep. Ti zones. It’s already morning there.

Luca grabbed his toiletry bag from the bathroom toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, the cologne Noel had once said he liked.

He caught his reflection in the mirror, pausing.

He looked tired.

Shadows under his eyes. Hair ssy from running his hands through it too many tis.

*Will Noel notice?*

Of course he would. Noel noticed everything.

Luca returned to the bedroom, zipping the toiletry bag into the suitcase’s side pocket.

He stood there for a mont, hands on his hips, scanning the room.

*What else?*

Chargers. Wallet.

He grabbed them, adding them to the growing pile.

The cat had followed him, now perched on the edge of the bed, watching with those unblinking eyes that always seed vaguely judgntal.

"Don’t look at like that," Luca muttered. "I know it’s impulsive. I know."

The cat’s tail flicked once.

Luca sat down beside it, hand absently stroking its fur.

The room felt too quiet.

The whole apartnt did.

Without Noel’s presence—his soft humming while cooking, his occasional laughter at sothing on his laptop, the rustle of pages turning—it all felt hollow.

Tomorrow, Luca reminded himself. Tomorrow you’ll see him.

The thought sent a flutter through his chest—anticipation mixed with sothing else. Nervousness? Excitent? He couldn’t quite na it.

He glanced at his phone again, the urge to text Noel almost overwhelming.

Just a quick ssage. Just to say goodnight.

But he didn’t.

He wanted it to be a surprise.

Wanted to see the look on Noel’s face when he showed up unannounced.

Wanted that mont—the shock, the joy, the way Noel’s eyes would light up.

Worth it, Luca told himself. It’ll be worth the wait.

He stood, finishing the last of his packing. Zipped the suitcase. Set it by the door.

Then he moved to the kitchen, suddenly restless.

The cat followed, owing softly—a reminder.

"Right. You still need dinner."

He filled the bowl, set it down.

The cat ate with single-minded focus, unbothered by Luca’s internal chaos.

Luca poured himself a glass of water, leaning against the counter, staring out the window at the city lights stretching endlessly.

Japan. Tomorrow.

And not just Noel.

Mom.

His chest tightened at the thought.

He hadn’t seen her in—what? Twelve years? More?

The last ti had been awkward. Stiff. She’d remarried by then, started a new family. New kids. A new life that didn’t include him.

He’d been angry. Hurt. Too proud to say it.

And they’d never really reconnected.

What do you even say to soone after that long?

Luca set the glass down, rubbing his face with both hands.

One thing at a ti. See Noel first. Deal with her after.

He could do that. He had to.

The bedroom felt too large as Luca lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

But sleep wouldn’t co.

His mind raced, thoughts tangling over each other like threads he couldn’t unravel.

What if Noel’s upset? What if he thinks I’m being clingy? Overbearing?

No. Noel wouldn’t think that. Noel understood him. Knew him.

But what if—

Luca turned onto his side, pulling the blanket higher, trying to quiet his mind.

What if he’s happy to see ?

The thought ward him, pushing back the anxiety.

Of course he’ll be happy. He said he missed . He said he’d make it up to .

Luca’s hand reached out, fingers brushing the empty space beside him—the space where Noel should be.

Tomorrow, he thought again, the word becoming a mantra.

But then the other thought crept in, unbidden.

Mom.

His throat tightened.

What will she say? What will I say?

Would she recognize him? Would he recognize her?

Would there be tears? Anger? Apologies?

Or just... nothing?

The thought of nothing—of polite, empty conversation—felt worse than anger.

Luca closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe slowly.

In. Out. In. Out.

The cat shifted beside him, a soft ow of complaint at being disturbed.

"Sorry," Luca whispered, stilling his movents.

The minutes stretched on.

The city outside humd quietly—distant traffic, the occasional siren, the low murmur of life that never fully stopped.

Luca’s thoughts began to slow, exhaustion finally catching up.

His last thought before sleep claid him was of Noel’s smile—the way it reached his eyes, genuine and warm.

I’m coming.

The buzzing started faint, distant, like a bee trapped behind glass.

Then louder.

Insistent.

Luca’s eyes cracked open, squinting against the morning light streaming through the curtains.

His phone vibrated on the nightstand, screen glowing.

He grabbed it, vision still blurry, reading the na.

**Uncle Jeff.**

Luca sat up quickly, the cat protesting with a loud ow as it was displaced.

He answered, voice rough with sleep. "Hello?"

"Luca." Uncle Jeff’s voice was calm, efficient, already awake and working. "Morning. Just confirming—you need to be at the airport by nine. Flight leaves at ten sharp. I’ll et you there with your passport, boarding pass, everything."

Luca rubbed his eyes, glancing at the clock.

8:43 AM.

His heart jumped.

"What? It’s already—" He swung his legs out of bed, suddenly wide awake. "I’ll be there. I’m leaving now."

"Good. Terminal 3. I’ll text you the gate number."

"Okay. Thank you, Uncle Jeff."

"Safe travels, Luca."

The call ended.

Luca stared at the phone for half a second, then launched into motion.

"Shit, shit, shit—"

He stumbled to the bathroom, splashing water on his face, brushing his teeth with frantic speed.

His reflection stared back—hair sticking up at odd angles, eyes still heavy with sleep.

No ti. Fix it later.

He pulled on jeans, a t-shirt, grabbed his jacket from the chair.

His suitcase sat by the door, waiting. He did a quick ntal check.

Phone. Wallet. Keys. Suitcase.

Everything accounted for.

Except—

The cat.

Luca paused, looking over at it. It sat by the door, tail swishing, watching him with those knowing eyes.

"Right. You."

He moved to the kitchen, quickly filling the food and water bowls to the brim. "This should last you until I get back. Mrs. Chen will check on you, okay?"

The cat blinked, unimpressed.

Luca crouched down, scratching behind its ears one last ti. "Be good. I’ll be back in a few days."

The cat purred, leaning into his hand.

Luca stood, grabbed his suitcase, and headed for the door.

One last glance around the apartnt—quiet, still, waiting.

Then he stepped out, locking the door behind him.

The streets were already alive with morning chaos—commuters rushing, vendors setting up, the city waking up in full force.

Luca flagged down a taxi, tossing his suitcase in the trunk.

"Airport. Terminal 3. Fast as you can."

The driver nodded, pulling into traffic.

Luca sat back, phone in hand, checking the ti again.

8:51 AM.

You’ll make it. You’ll make it.

His leg bounced nervously, fingers drumming against his thigh.

The city blurred past—buildings, lights, faces.

Everything felt surreal, like he was moving through a dream.

His phone buzzed.

Uncle Jeff: Gate 42. I’m already here.

Luca typed back quickly.

Luca: On my way. Ten minutes.

The taxi weaved through traffic, the driver clearly sensing the urgency.

Luca watched the ter tick up, but he didn’t care.

Just get there.

Finally—finally—the airport ca into view.

The driver pulled up to the departures terminal.

Luca handed him cash, grabbed his suitcase, and bolted inside.

The terminal was packed—travelers everywhere, announcents echoing overhead, the sll of coffee and fast food mixing in the air.

Luca scanned the boards, found his gate, and started moving.

His phone buzzed again.

Noel: Morning Hope you’re having a good day.

Luca’s heart squeezed.

He wanted to respond. Wanted to say I’m coming to see you. I’m on my way.

But he didn’t.

Soon, he thought, pocketing the phone. Soon you’ll know.

He reached Gate 42, slightly out of breath, scanning the crowd.

And there standing near the check-in counter, calm and composed was Uncle Jeff.

He looked up, saw Luca, and smiled.

"Right on ti," Jeff said, handing over a folder. "Passport, boarding pass, hotel information. Everything you need."

Luca took it, hands trembling slightly. "Thank you. Really."

Jeff’s expression softened. "You’re doing a brave thing, Luca. Both parts of it."

Luca swallowed, nodding.

Jeff squeezed his shoulder briefly. "Go. Your gate’s boarding soon."

Luca glanced at the departure board.

Flight 237 to Tokyo—Now Boarding.

His heart raced.

This is it.

He looked back at Jeff one last ti. "I’ll call you when I land."

"I’ll be waiting."

Luca turned, suitcase in tow, and headed toward the gate.

The line moved quickly.

Passport checked. Boarding pass scanned.

And then he was through—walking down the jet bridge, the hum of the plane growing louder.

He found his seat window, just like he’d hoped and settled in.

The cabin filled around him. Families. Business travelers. Couples.

Luca stared out the window, watching the ground crew move around the plane.

His phone buzzed one last ti before he switched it to airplane mode.

Noel: Miss you.

Luca smiled, typing back quickly before the signal cut out.

Luca: Miss you too. More than you know.

He hit send, then powered down the phone.

The plane’s engines rumbled to life.

The cabin lights dimd.

And slowly—slowly—they began to move.

Luca leaned his head against the window, watching the ground fall away, the city shrinking below.

I’m coming, Noel.

I’m coming.