Frequencies of Us Chapter 58: Secrets and Gossip

Noah POV

I’m sitting in the AV room, alone with Mateo, my hands full of his busted earbuds. The school’s quiet, empty after hours, and my heart’s beating fast, loud in my chest. He’s next to me, leaning close, watching me twist the tiny wires. His breath brushes my neck, warm and quick, and my stomach flips, heat creeping up fast. I want him bad, always do when he’s this close.

I twist the wire, fix it quick, and hold the earbuds up. My fingers shake a little, brushing his ears as I slide them in for him. His skin’s hot, soft, and he looks at me, eyes dark, making my chest tighten. I can’t help it—I lean in, close, and whisper, “You’re mine.” My voice is low, rough, and his lips part, a small sound slipping out. It drives me crazy.

I drop the earbuds, grab his face, and kiss his neck, hard and wet. My lips suck his skin, tasting salt, and he moans, soft at first, then louder. My hands slide down, pulling him closer, and I press my body against his. My dick’s hard already, pushing against my jeans, and I grind into him, slow, feeling him through the table between us. He groans, grabs my hips, and pulls me tighter, making heat explode in my gut.

I yank his shirt up, tossing it, and run my hands over his chest, feeling his heartbeat pounding. “Noah,” he says, voice shaky, and I kiss him, deep, my tongue sliding in fast. He kisses back, hungry, and I shove him against the table, climbing on top. My knees dig into the wood, and I grind harder, my dick rubbing his through our clothes. It’s hot, desperate, and I moan loud, not caring who hears.

I tug his jeans down, just enough, and his dick springs out, thick and hard. My mouth waters, and I grab it, stroking slow, feeling him twitch in my hand. He gasps, head tipping back, and I stroke faster, my thumb rubbing the tip, wet with precum. “Fuck, you’re so good,” he mutters, and my heart slams, wild, loving how he sounds. I spit in my hand, slick it up, and pump him hard, watching his face twist, mouth open, panting loud.

My jeans come off next, fast, and I’m naked from the waist down, my dick throbbing, leaking. I climb back on, pressing it against his, and stroke us together, tight and messy. He bucks up, moaning, and I grind down, rubbing us rough. The table shakes, creaking loud, and I suck his neck again, leaving a wet mark. “Mine,” I growl, voice breaking, and he nods, hands gripping my ass, squeezing hard.

I slide lower, spit again, and take him in my mouth, sucking deep. He’s hot, filling me up, and I bob my head, fast, tongue swirling around him. He thrusts, shallow, then deeper, fucking my mouth, and I moan, loud, vibrating around him. My hand’s on my own dick now, stroking quick, matching his rhythm. “Noah, fuck,” he groans, pulling my hair, and I suck harder, wanting him to lose it.

He tenses, dick pulsing, and cums hard, spilling down my throat. I swallow, greedy, my body shaking as I keep stroking myself. He pulls me up, fast, kissing me messy, tasting himself, and flips me over. My back hits the table, and he’s on me, hand wrapping my dick, pumping fast. “Your turn,” he says, voice low, and I gasp, loud, legs trembling. He grinds against me, his dick half-hard again, rubbing my thigh, and I cum, quick and hot, spilling over his fingers.

We’re panting, stuck together, my chest heaving against his. I kiss him slow, soft, my lips shaky, and he smiles, small, sweet. My heart feels big, full, like he’s all I need. I rest my forehead on his, breathing him in, and whisper, “Always mine.” He nods, hand brushing my cheek, and I feel warm, safe, even with everything else falling apart.

Then the door bangs open, loud and sudden, and my heart jumps, cold slicing through me. Sofia storms in, face mad, fists clenched. “Where’s Caleb?” she snaps, voice sharp, cutting the air. My stomach twists, panic hitting fast, and I pull my jeans up, fumbling, trying to hide what we were doing. Mateo sits up, shirt still off, and I feel his eyes on me, tense, waiting.

“He’s not here,” I say, quick, lying through my teeth. My voice shakes, and I stand, blocking her view of Mateo. She steps closer, eyes narrow, and says, “Don’t bullshit me, Noah. I know you know.” My chest tightens, guilt mixing with fear, but I shake my head, protecting us, our moment. “I don’t,” I say, firm, and she glares, breathing hard, then turns to leave. My hands sweat, relief hitting slow, and I look at Mateo, his jaw tight, worried.

I sit back down, heart still racing, and try to grab his hand. He pulls away, just a little, and my stomach drops. “You okay?” I ask, quiet, but he nods, not looking at me. I feel off, shaky, like something’s wrong between us. Then I hear footsteps outside, light, sneaky, and my head snaps up. Tara’s there, leaning on the doorframe, smirking at me. My chest freezes, cold again, and she steps in, slow, hips swaying.

“Hey, Noah,” she says, voice sweet, fake, and my skin crawls. She’s Lena’s friend, cheer squad girl, and she’s too close, brushing my arm with her fingers. “You look lonely,” she adds, smiling, and I pull back, fast, heart pounding. “I’m not,” I say, sharp, and glance at Mateo. His eyes narrow, watching her, watching me, and I feel trapped, stuck between them. “Just leave,” I tell her, voice hard, but she laughs, soft, and leans closer, testing me.

I push her hand off, mad now, and say, “Back off, Tara.” My chest burns, loyalty to Mateo screaming loud, and she smirks, stepping back. “Fine,” she says, shrugging, but her eyes flick to Mateo, then me, like she knows something. My stomach twists, tight, and she walks out, leaving me shaky, scared she’ll tell Lena we’re together. I turn to Mateo, needing him to see I’m his, but he’s quiet, staring at the floor, and my heart hurts, unsure.

Then my phone buzzes, loud on the table, and I grab it, hands trembling. It’s a text, unknown number, and my breath catches, fast and hard. I open it, and my heart stops, ice running through me. It says, “I’ve got video. You and him. Pay up or it’s online.” My hands shake, the phone slipping, and I look at Mateo, panic clawing my throat. He sees my face, grabs the phone, reads it, and his eyes go wide, mad, scared. “What the fuck?” he says, voice low, and I can’t breathe, can’t speak—just stare, waiting for it all to crash.