Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL] Chapter 56: Cooking With Feeling(Seasoned with Love)

Noel had just dropped the grocery bags on the tiny counter when Luca, sleeves already rolled up and eyes gleaming with reckless determination, clapped his hands once and said:

"Today, I cook."

Noel blinked. "You... cook?"

Luca puffed his chest. "Absolutely. I’m a man of many talents. You’ve just never given the chance."

"That’s because you once tried to microwave soup... in a tal bowl."

"That was one ti."

"It caught fire, Luca."

Luca approached the groceries like a seasoned chef—until he lifted a head of broccoli and frowned. "Wait,"Do you peel this?"

Noel sighed and leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "Do you even know what you’re making?"

Luca reached into the bag, pulled out a pack of rice, and grinned. "Yes. Rice. And... sautéed vegetables."

"Wow," Noel said, dry. "A full five-star al."

Luca ignored him and began unpacking with flair—dropping a tomato, juggling to save it, failing miserably, and then pretending it was all part of the process. "Just trust the artist at work."

Noel stepped forward. "Do you even know how to rinse rice?"

"Yes," Luca said confidently. Then, after a beat: "Wait, you’re supposed to rinse it?"

Noel sighed again and moved in beside him, brushing against his arm as he took the bag. "Here. Move. Let do it before you poison us."

Luca didn’t move. "No. You’ve cooked a hundred tis. Let try."

Their arms touched again as they hovered by the sink. Noel handed him the rice carefully. "Fine. But if you ruin the pan, you’re buying a new one."

"I accept that challenge," Luca said with a grin, pouring way too much rice into a bowl.

Noel leaned on the counter and watched, amused despite himself, as Luca fumbled through asuring, rinsing, and finally putting the pot on the tiny stove. It was ssy. It was loud. At one point, he stirred the vegetables with a fork and dropped the fork into the pan.

"This is going... surprisingly okay," Luca said proudly, retrieving the fork with a wince.

"You say that now."

"Look," Luca said, beaming. "They’re not even burned."

Noel leaned closer, peering into the pan. "You forgot salt."

Luca froze. "I did?"

Noel turned, reached for the salt, and when he handed it over, their fingers brushed for a second too long.

Luca looked at him, eyes softer now, voice quieter. "Thanks..."

Noel cleared his throat and stepped back. "Don’t make it weird."

"I’m not. I’m just... proud of myself."

When the food was sowhat ready—after much disaster-turned-adorable attempts—they both sat at the edge of the bed, plates in hand, legs brushing as they dug in.

It was... edible. Barely.

Noel chewed slowly, then looked over. "You call this sautéed?"

Luca looked deeply offended. "That’s chef-level stir fry, thank you."

"Chef-level would’ve included seasoning."

"I seasoned it—with love."

Noel rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he took another bite.

Luca nudged him with his shoulder. "You’re still eating it."

"Because I’m starving."

"You’re welco."

Noel looked at him—really looked this ti. Luca had a little smudge of sothing near his jaw. His silver hair was ssier than usual, shirt wrinkled from their cooking chaos, but his eyes were soft and watching Noel like he was waiting for sothing.

And Noel... couldn’t stop his smile.

"Thanks," Noel said quietly.

"For trying."

Luca’s smirk softened into sothing smaller. "Anything for my favorite roommate."

Noel looked down at his plate before he said anything else he’d regret.

Luca lay flat on the bed like a man who had just climbed a mountain—or in this case, survived cooking dinner.

He groaned dramatically, one arm over his eyes. "Can we just... skip tonight’s lecture?"

Noel, ever composed, didn’t even look up from where he was packing his bag. "No."

Luca peeked through his fingers. "Please? My body’s still recovering. I’ve been through war in that kitchen."

"You dropped a tomato and stabbed the rice."

"I cooked for the first ti."

Noel zipped his bag in one crisp motion. "Exactly. "And that’s your achievent for the day. Congratulations. Now go get dressed."

Luca sat up slowly, like he was 80 years old. "Do you realize how boring that class is? I swear our lecturer hates joy."

Noel finally looked at him, arms folded. "And yet, sohow, I enjoy it."

"That’s because you’re weird."

Noel raised a brow. "Or maybe I just care about passing?"

"Sa."

"No, Luca. Saying ’sa’ doesn’t make it true."

Luca smirked. "I care. I just... care in my own way."

Noel turned to the mirror, adjusting his collar with quiet precision. "Which is?"

Luca stretched his arms behind his head, watching him. "Caring enough to sit next to you for two hours and pretend I’m paying attention."

Noel paused, lips twitching.

Luca caught it.

"That almost got a smile."

"It didn’t."

"It did."

Noel turned to face him fully. "Luca. Get. Dressed."

"Ugh." Luca flopped back again. "This is oppression."

But even as he grumbled, he got up. Pulled on a shirt—half-ironed—and ran a hand through his hair.

Through the mirror, Noel’s eyes lingered a little too long—on Luca’s half-ironed shirt, on the way his hair curled lazily. Sothing stirred in his chest, quiet and inconvenient.

"I’m only going because I don’t trust you not to start rumors about being lazy."

"You are lazy."

Luca grinned. "But charming."

Noel sighed, grabbing his bag and heading for the door. "Co on. Before I leave you behind."

Luca slung his backpack on one shoulder and followed. "You love dragging to hell."

Noel glanced sideways. "Only because you’d nap through your future otherwise."

Luca laughed. "You’re lucky I like it."

Noel didn’t respond.

But the smile tugging at the edge of his lips said enough.

Luca swung his arms lazily, his steps just slightly slower than Noel’s. "You know what I realized?"

Noel kept walking, calm and unbothered. "This better not be about skipping class again."

"No, no. Totally different thought." Luca leaned toward him a little. "You walk like soone with a purpose. Like... a guy in a movie about saving the world."

"I walk like soone who doesn’t want to be late."

Luca grinned. "Sa thing."

Noel side-eyed him. "What are you getting at?"

"I’m just saying you’re very..." Luca tilted his head, considering. "Efficient."

Noel raised a brow. "You make it sound like an insult."

"It’s not." Luca paused, then smiled softer. "It’s kind of cool, actually."

That made Noel glance at him—briefly, but long enough to feel it.

"Thanks," he said, quietly.

They kept walking. A breeze passed through, tugging at Luca’s silver-gray hair. He ran his hand through it lazily. "So... you ever thought of what you’ll do after graduation?"

Noel shrugged. "Sothing calm. Structured. Maybe international finance."

Luca whistled low. "Sounds serious."

"Better than jobless."

Luca smirked. "That was an attack."

"I’m just saying, so people need structure. Deadlines. Reminders."

"And so people," Luca said, bumping Noel lightly with his shoulder, "are creative spirits. Can’t box us in."

"You’re just disorganized."

"I’m spontaneous."

"You forgot your shoes last week."

"I was in a rush."

"You wore mismatched ones."

Luca burst out laughing, tipping his head back. "Okay, that was iconic."

Noel shook his head, but the edge of his mouth curled upward. "You’re unbelievable."

Luca slowed his pace just slightly. "You say that a lot."

"Because you keep proving it."

"Maybe I just like hearing you say it."

That made Noel blink. His steps faltered, but he caught himself before stopping completely.

Luca didn’t look at him then. He just kept walking, hands in his pockets, a sly little smile tugging at his lips.

They reached the steps of the lecture hall. Students were beginning to settle in.

"You coming?" Noel asked, voice steady again.

"Only if you promise to poke if I doze off."

"I’m not poking you."

"Not even a nudge?"

Noel sighed, pulling the door open. "If you fall asleep, I’ll let the professor call on you."

Luca laughed as he stepped inside. "Cruel. But fair."

Noel stepped in first, his hand letting the door swing back slowly. Luca followed, brushing his hair off his forehead with that usual lazy confidence. They climbed halfway up the lecture seats, stopping at the sa row as always.

Emily was already seated, second seat from the aisle, headphones halfway off, scrolling through her phone.

Her eyes lit up the mont she looked up. "Well, well, early bird and his shadow."

Luca raised an eyebrow. "Shadow?"

"You." She pointed her pen at him. "You tagging along behind Noel these days. It’s kind of cute."

Noel gave her a sharp glance. "We were just walking."

Emily winked. "Sure."

Luca smirked but said nothing as he slipped into the seat beside her. Noel took the spot beside him, nearest to the wall — as usual.

The hall slowly filled around them, voices echoing low. Bags dropped. Keyboards clicked. The air held that heavy quiet of people preparing to half-listen.

"Hey," Emily leaned slightly toward Luca, her voice low. "You good? You didn’t reply in the group chat yesterday."

Luca shrugged. "Phone died."

Noel glanced sideways — quick, almost unconscious.

Emily tilted her head. "You didn’t miss much. Jordan posted a few embarrassing things."

"Classic." Luca laughed under his breath.

Just then, the professor entered — cueing students to straighten, rustle notebooks, and quiet down.

"Today," the professor began, clicking on the projector, "we’ll pick up where we left off on behavioral market patterns..."

Noel sat upright, already scribbling the topic in his notebook. Luca leaned slightly back in his chair, watching the slide fade in on the screen. A mont later, he turned slightly — just a fraction — and whispered to Noel:

"You always take notes like your pen’s in a race."

Noel didn’t look at him. "Because I’m trying to learn."

Luca leaned in a little closer. "And here I am. Learning from you."

Noel’s fingers hesitated on the page, just for a mont. His throat shifted like he was swallowing sothing back. Then he spoke again, soft but sharp.

"Just focus."

"I am focused," Luca said — and even though his eyes turned back to the screen, the smile lingered on his lips.

Noel didn’t reply. But he didn’t push him away, either.

As the professor droned on, Noel’s eyes flicked sideways—to Luca’s note-free desk, to the lazy smirk still lingering.

He’s going to drive insane, Noel thought.

And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind.