Chapter 174: The Bed vs. The Boyfriend
The taxi slowed to a stop at the curb outside their building.
Luca leaned forward to pass the driver a few folded bills while Noel gathered the smaller bags from the seat.
When they stepped out, the night air met them—cool.
"Third floor," Luca muttered, squinting up at the dark brick façade as if it had personally wronged him.
"You say that like we’re scaling Everest," Noel said, shouldering his bag with a faint smirk.
"Three floors after a long drive?" Luca stretched his arms wide, groaning as if on stage. "It’s a tragedy."
"Good thing civilized people invented elevators," Noel shot back, brushing past him toward the gleaming glass doors.
Inside, the lobby was silent, glowing under the sterile hum of fluorescent lights.
The elevator dinged open, and Luca dragged his suitcase inside, slumping dramatically against the mirrored back wall.
"Home sweet home," he said with an exaggerated sigh, then tilted his head toward Noel. "You sure you’re ready for my brand of chaos?"
"I’ve had a thorough preview," Noel answered, steady as ever, watching the floor numbers blink upward.
Luca narrowed his eyes. "That sounded judgmental."
"That was factual," Noel replied, not looking away from the panel.
The doors slid open with another soft chime. Their footsteps sank into the muffled hallway carpet as they made their way down the quiet corridor.
But there, positioned neatly against their door, was something unexpected.
A pet carrier.
It sat waiting, a folded receipt tucked under the plastic handle. Inside, two wide, luminous green eyes blinked up at them, followed by a low, scratchy mewl.
"Our guest of honor has arrived," Noel murmured, immediately crouching down. He slipped his fingers through the metal grate, brushing against impossibly soft fur with a tenderness that was his alone. "The vet must have dropped him off after his checkup."
"Oh, fantastic," Luca groaned, dragging his suitcase to a halt. "The tiny demon returns."
Noel shot him a sharp look over his shoulder. "Don’t call him that."
"I’m not!" Luca protested, hands raised in mock surrender. "I’m just saying—it’s cruel, Noel. Naming him Luca Jr.? I feel personally attacked every time you say it."
A shadow of a smile curved Noel’s lips as he lifted the carrier, handling it with a protective care that made something in Luca’s chest tighten. "What better name for something so stubborn, dramatic, and impossible to ignore?"
Luca blinked at him, feigning offense. "Wow. You’re actually enjoying this."
"I’m just being honest." Noel stepped past him, keys jingling in his hand. "Come on. Let’s get Luca Jr. inside."
"See?" Luca’s voice pitched higher in despair as he followed. "You say it like I’ve been cloned into something fur-covered and judgmental!"
Noel didn’t bite. He set the carrier down gently in the corner of the living room, then looked back, his gaze catching Luca’s with quiet mischief. "The description isn’t entirely off."
Luca stared at him, torn between laughter and genuine despair. "Unbelievable. I live with two of you now."
Inside the carrier, the cat yawned, slow and wide, as if in full agreement.
Luca tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter, the clatter loud in the warm quiet of their apartment. "This is harassment. I should report you both."
But Noel was already kneeling again, unlatching the carrier door with deliberate care. His voice softened, low and warm. "Welcome home, Luca Jr."
The words were meant for the cat, but they seemed to ripple through the room, settling into the very walls, into the fragile, new space between them.
Luca rolled his eyes, but his lips betrayed him, tugging upward against his will.
He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to.
Noel unlatched the carrier, and the cat stepped out with slow, suspicious grace.
Its tail gave one superior flick before it padded across the living room, nose twitching, wide eyes scanning as if it were a tiny inspector claiming ownership of every corner.
Within seconds, it made a beeline for the balcony, slipping through the small gap in the curtains like a silent, furry ghost.
"Of course," Luca muttered, watching the white-tipped tail disappear. "Straight to the throne room. He already thinks he pays rent here."
Noel hid a smile, brushing past Luca toward the bedroom. "He has better manners than you, then."
"That’s slander." Luca followed, dragging his suitcase across the floor. "I’ve been nothing but polite since the day I moved in."
"Mm." Noel set the bag on the bed and began unzipping it. "Polite is not the word I’d use."
"What word, then?" Luca challenged, leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.
Noel pulled out a neatly folded shirt, set it in the drawer, then looked at him with a calm, devastating precision. "Loud."
Luca gaped. "Excuse you—"
"And dramatic," Noel added, as if reading from a prepared list.
Luca placed a hand over his heart, staggering back a step. "You wound me. First Luca Jr., now this? You’ve made it your mission to bully me tonight."
Noel smoothed down the shirt, utterly unbothered. "Someone has to keep you humble."
"Keep me humble?" Luca scoffed, pushing off the doorframe and unzipping the suitcase with a violent rip. "I am the humblest man alive. Ask anyone."
Noel shot him a sidelong look, one brow raised, the corner of his mouth betraying the smallest smirk. "Anyone?"
Luca hesitated, hands buried in a mess of clothes. "...Selective witnesses."
The laugh Noel tried to hold back slipped out anyway—soft, unguarded, and real.
Luca froze mid-motion, glancing up at him. And though Noel bent back over the drawer as if nothing had happened, Luca had caught it—that flicker of warm, open amusement, the genuine curve of his mouth that always felt like a secret victory.
He smiled to himself, pretending to be intensely busy with a pair of socks, but the win buzzed quietly under his skin.
Out on the balcony, the cat had settled like a king surveying new territory, its tail curling lazily against the glass door.
Luca glanced at it, shook his head, and went back to the controlled chaos of his unpacking.
Noel moved with methodical efficiency, folding clothes into drawers with quiet precision.
Every so often, Luca would toss something in haphazardly, and Noel would sigh, pull it back out, and refold it into a perfect rectangle.
"You know," Luca said, watching Noel smooth out an invisible wrinkle, "you could loosen up just once. No one’s grading your folding technique."
"Someone has to prevent you from living like a human tornado," Noel replied evenly, tucking a sweater into its place.
Luca grinned but let it go.
When the clothes were finally tucked away, Noel pulled out the familiar, well-worn blanket and shook it open.
Luca joined him without a word, catching the other end.
They stretched it over the bed in unison, smoothed the corners with a shared rhythm, and set the pillows side-by-side.
It felt deeply domestic, this quiet coordination—two sets of hands building a nest in unspoken agreement.
"Not bad," Noel murmured, stepping back to assess their work.
"Not bad?" Luca echoed, eyebrows arched. "That’s practically a five-star hotel bed."
Before Noel could roll his eyes, Luca flopped down dramatically onto the mattress, landing half across the edge.
His arm dangled off the side, one leg bent at an awkward angle.
Noel frowned. "You’re going to ruin it already."
Luca tilted his head toward him, smug. "Perfection’s meant to be lived in." Then, with a quick, mischievous tug, he caught Noel’s wrist and pulled him down beside him.
Noel stumbled, a half-hearted "Luca—" escaping his lips before he landed against the mattress with a soft thud.
"C’mon," Luca said, his voice low and coaxing. He stretched out, their shoulders brushing. "We’ve earned it. Just five minutes."
Noel exhaled, the fight draining out of him, caught between exasperation and reluctant amusement.
The bed still smelled faintly of fresh laundry and new beginnings, the room echoing with the distant, comforting hum of the city outside.
Five minutes, he told himself. But the solid warmth of Luca pressed beside him had a way of stretching time and dissolving resolve.
The mattress dipped under their combined weight, the neatly made blanket now comfortably wrinkled beneath them.
Noel shifted, making to sit up, but Luca rolled his head toward him, his eyes lazy but sharp with familiar mischief.
"You’re really not capable of lying still, are you?" Luca murmured.
"I just want to wash up before bed," Noel said, pushing at the sheet as if it offered leverage.
Luca’s hand slid back to his wrist, not rough, but firm enough to be a gentle anchor. "Bed’s right here. You can wash later."
"Luca," Noel warned, a faint crease appearing between his brows. "Let me go."
"Why?" Luca’s grin widened, his tone dipping into that husky, too-confident drawl that never failed to get under Noel’s skin. "Afraid of spending five more minutes with me?"
Noel avoided his gaze, focusing on a faint crack in the ceiling. "Afraid of letting you wrinkle this bed beyond repair."
That earned him a laugh, low and warm and intimate. Luca shifted closer, their shoulders brushing again. "I think you care more about these sheets than you do about me."
"That’s not—" Noel started, then stopped himself, feeling a familiar warmth rise in his cheeks.
Luca caught it immediately, his expression shifting to mock victory. "Oh? So you do care about me." His voice was triumphant, but his eyes softened, watching Noel struggle to hide the smile threatening his lips.
Noel huffed, rolling his eyes as if it could undo the truth he’d just revealed. "You’re impossible."
"And you," Luca countered, leaning just close enough that Noel froze, "are not leaving this bed until I say so."
For a moment, the room stilled—filled only by the hum of the city and the faint rustle of the cat beyond the glass door.
Noel swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of Luca’s hand on his wrist, his gaze unwavering and full of unspoken promise.
Then, with a deft twist, Noel slipped free, standing before Luca could tighten his grip. "I’m going to wash up," he said, his voice steadier than he felt.
Luca sprawled back into the pillows, grinning like a cat that had only half lost its prey. "Fine. But don’t take too long. I might get lonely."
Noel paused at the door, half turning back. His lips twitched into a reluctant, fond smile despite his best efforts. "You’ll survive."
"You think so?" Luca called after him, his voice trailing off into a playful sigh. "I’ve got my doubts."