CHAPTER 129: THE SOFTEST PART OF THE NIGHT

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Chapter 129

George tilted his head back, finishing off the neon-blue cocktail like it was the last drink on Earth.

"Easy, man," Noel said, watching him with one brow raised.

George just wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grinned, eyes already glassy. "I’m going home tomorrow. I’d rather be hungover with memories than sober with regrets."

Luca snorted. "That should be on a T-shirt."

Emily lifted her glass, sliding back into the booth with flair. "Alright then. To post-exam trauma and emotional damage. May we forget it all by morning."

They raised their glasses—mismatched, half-filled, some already sweating with condensation. Even Jordan, half-distracted on his phone, lifted his beer lazily. "Cheers."

The glasses clinked. Laughter rippled through the group.

Before anyone noticed, George had already slipped into the crowd,drawn by the music like a moth to a disco flame.

He slipped between bodies with no rhythm, just raw enthusiasm, spinning once before pumping his fists like he was leading a one-man rave.

Jordan watched him, sighed, then stood up and followed. "Someone’s gotta make sure he doesn’t start a conga line again."

That left the booth half-empty.

Emily leaned into Lina, whispering something that made the other girl’s lips curl into a reluctant smile. Their hands found each other under the table like it was second nature.

Meanwhile, Luca and Noel stood still—two figures in a flickering storm of lights and noise.

"You okay?" Noel asked softly, nudging Luca’s elbow.

Luca gave a faint nod. "Yeah. Just... weird seeing everyone like this again. Together."

Noel’s expression softened. "Good weird or bad weird?"

Luca glanced around—the drinks, the laughter, the music, the mess of it all. Then back to Noel. "Honestly? The best kind of weird."

Noel didn’t reply. He just bumped their shoulders together gently, then looked toward the dance floor, where George was now trying to high-five a stranger mid-spin.

"Come on," Noel said, motioning toward the crowd. "Let’s survive the night like we promised."

Luca smiled. "Two drinks, right?"

"Don’t push it."

And they stepped forward, into the blur of bodies and bass—arms brushing, the rest of the night unwritten.

They drifted to a quieter corner, just beside the massive speaker wall where the bass softened to a low hum and the light melted into a warm, honeyed gold.

The crowd thinned there—just a couple of strays passing by, the kind of spot you could vanish into without fully leaving the party behind.

Luca leaned his back against the wall, arms crossed, head tilted slightly as he scanned the dance floor.

His features had softened in a way Noel rarely got to see—like the tension behind his eyes had finally let go.

"This is the best night I didn’t know I needed," Luca murmured, voice just loud enough to reach Noel through the music.

Noel turned toward him, one brow raised, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That’s your reward. For surviving finals and managing not to set anything on fire."

Luca gave a small laugh, the kind that didn’t ask for attention. "Low bar, but I’ll take it."

Noel didn’t respond right away. He just watched him—really watched him—under the flickering lights, the dimmed chaos behind them making this small corner feel like another world.

Then, almost without thinking, Noel leaned in.

His lips met Luca’s the kiss was soft. Slow. No fanfare, no urgency—just a quiet moment they both knew had been waiting. It lingered. It settled.

Then—of course—reality crashed back in.

"I saw that!" came George’s unmistakable slur, like a trumpet blast through velvet. He stumbled by, arm slung over Jordan’s shoulder, pointing with dramatic flair before nearly tripping over his own feet.

Luca and Noel froze for half a second,they burst into laughter, pulled apart just enough to breathe—but their eyes lingered, like neither was ready to let go of what had just changed.

Noel rubbed the back of his neck, grinning. "He’s going to bring that up for the next ten years, you know."

Luca exhaled through a chuckle, rolling his eyes. "He won’t even remember it by breakfast."

"Still," Noel said, voice dipped in playful warning, "he saw it. Should I be worried?"

Luca didn’t miss a beat. He shifted closer again, forehead nearly touching Noel’s, his voice low and sure. "You sure you’re not falling for me again?"

Noel held his gaze—quiet, unreadable at first. Then he smiled. Not wide, not dramatic. Just soft. Real. "Don’t push your luck. We still have that interview on Monday."

Luca’s laugh was quieter now, almost a sigh. "Right. Reality’s still out there."

"Yeah," Noel said, eyes flicking to the dance floor, then back. "But it doesn’t have to find us yet."

And so they stayed—pressed close in their little pocket of stillness—while the party swirled around them.

For a few more seconds, they let the music carry them.

Just a little longer.

Outside, the club’s neon lights shimmered like dying fireworks, casting soft hues across their faces as the group spilled into the cool night air.

George leaned against the wall—too much confidence in legs that barely listened—one eye squinting, the other wide like he was trying to balance the world.

"Okay," Lina said, eyeing him critically. "On a scale of one to ’I can’t feel my eyebrows,’ how drunk are you?"

"I’m fine," George slurred, puffing up his chest like he was ready to run a triathlon. "I already called a cab. I’m responsible."

Emily raised an eyebrow. "You sure you didn’t just call your mom?"

George gasped, hand to heart. "How dare you—"

"He’s gone," Lina declared with a laugh, wrapping an arm around him as a safety net. "Your cab better show up before you start hugging lamp posts again."

She sighed, adjusting her purse strap. "We’re walking you to that cab."

"No need, my queen," George announced, pointing dramatically across the street. "There she is. My chariot."

A taxi pulled up with a lazy screech. George stumbled forward, gave the group a double thumbs-up—then immediately bumped into the car door.

"Okay, I got this. See? Fully functional adult." He ducked inside, grinning like a champion, and the cab pulled away with a soft honk.

Emily shook her head. "Next time, he’s getting a leash."

"Next time," Lina muttered, tucking her phone away, "he’s drinking water."

Luca chuckled, then glanced to the side—Jordan stood nearby, phone in hand, reading a message under the glow of a streetlight. For a moment, their eyes met.

"I’ll head out," Jordan said, slipping his phone into his pocket. "Thanks for tonight. Tell Noel... thanks too."

Luca nodded once. "Will do."

Jordan nudged his shoulder, half-teasing, half-genuine. "Take care of him. And yourself."

With a crooked grin, he waved to the group and disappeared into the night crowd.

A quiet moment passed.

Then Noel stepped up beside Luca, zipping his jacket slowly, like he wasn’t quite ready to break the silence.

"George looked like he just won a drinking contest against himself," he murmured.

Luca snorted. "And still lost."

They both laughed softly, their voices folding into the city hum.

Luca turned slightly toward him, nudging his arm. "Well... guess it’s just us."

Noel slipped his hands into his pockets, the cool air brushing against his cheeks. "Mhm. You sober enough to walk?"

"I had two drinks. Like you said," Luca replied innocently.

"You had three," Noel shot back, arching a brow.

Luca held up two fingers. "One was just half."

Noel rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips gave him away. "Come on. Let’s go."

They started down the street, heels tapping, gravel crunching beneath their steps.

The night had quieted, leaving behind laughter, soft music, and a trace of warmth that lingered between them.

Noel didn’t speak at first. He glanced over at Luca, his eyes calm, searching.

"You alright?" he asked softly.

Luca nodded, slipping his hands deeper into his coat. "Yeah. Tonight was... good."

"I’m glad," Noel said, his voice low but sure—steady in that way that always seemed to land right in Luca’s chest.

They walked side by side, no rush to be anywhere.

The silence didn’t feel empty—it felt full. Of something unspoken. Something good.

At the corner, Luca bumped him lightly with his shoulder.

"You still hate clubs?"

Noel smirked. "Maybe. But not when you’re there."

Luca’s smile bloomed slow and wide.

And together, they vanished into the soft hush of the night.

By the time they reached the dorm, the world had quieted to a soft hum.

Streetlights painted long streaks across the pavement, and their footsteps echoed faintly as they climbed the stairs in tired silence.

Inside, the room welcomed them with the familiar scent of clean laundry and the faint trace of cologne still lingering from earlier.

Luca kicked off his shoes with a dramatic sigh and collapsed backward onto his bed, limbs sprawled like a starfish.

"Finally," he groaned into the ceiling. "I’m dead."

Noel shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the chair, then arched a brow at him. "Brush your teeth first."

Luca rolled onto his side with a muffled whine. "Can’t we skip it tonight? I’ll dream minty."

Noel, already holding his toothbrush, leaned against the doorframe with folded arms. "You’ll regret it in the morning."

"I’ll regret getting out of bed at all."

"You always do."

Luca peeked at him from under his arm. Noel gave him the look—that quiet, firm stare that didn’t leave much room for negotiation.

With a theatrical groan, Luca flopped off the bed. "You’re relentless."

Noel walked over and tugged him gently by the wrist. "Up."

Luca let himself be pulled, dragging his feet like a sulky child. "You’re so mean to me."

"You’ll thank me when your mouth doesn’t taste like bad decisions."

In the bathroom, they stood side by side.

Luca leaned on the sink, half-asleep, brushing lazily.

Noel, ever methodical, worked his toothbrush with quiet focus, occasionally glancing at Luca’s reflection with a smirk playing on his lips.

When they finished rinsing and wiping their faces, Luca yawned, eyes barely open. "Domestic bliss, huh?"

Noel’s lips twitched with mock seriousness. "We’re practically married."

Luca chuckled. "You gonna propose next?"

Noel tossed a towel at his face. "Sleep before I reconsider ever being nice to you."

They returned to the room, the mattress creaking softly as they dropped into bed.

The lights dimmed to a warm, golden haze. Quiet wrapped around them like a blanket.

Noel rolled onto his side, already drifting. But then—

"Hey," Luca murmured.

Noel blinked his eyes open. "Yeah?"

Luca’s voice was quieter this time. "Thanks. For tonight. For the surprise reward. For... everything."

Noel didn’t answer right away. He turned fully to face him, eyes soft. Then he gently tapped Luca’s fingers once, almost like a silent promise.

"Sleep."

Luca smiled sleepily and inched closer, tucking his face into Noel’s shoulder.

Noel hesitated, then relaxed, letting him in.

Wrapped in quiet warmth and the safety of each other, they finally let the night carry them away—breaths even, limbs tangled, the last thought between them unspoken but understood.

Home.

Not a place. Not even a moment.

Just this—warm skin, steady breath, and the quiet promise of tomorrow.

In the silence that followed, the night finally let them go.