Frequencies of Us Chapter 59: Sweat and a Snap

Mateo POV

I’m on the track, sweat dripping down my back, sun hot on my skin. Practice is loud, guys yelling, shoes pounding dirt. Noah’s up in the bleachers, sitting alone, watching me run. My heart beats fast, not just from the laps, but from him. I feel his eyes on me, and it makes me want to show off. I finish my sprint, breathing hard, and peel my shirt off, slow, letting it drop. My muscles flex, tight from running, and I look up at him, winking. “Like the view?” I call out, grinning wide.

He smirks, nods, and my stomach flips, heat rushing through me. I love that look on his face, hungry, like I’m all he sees. Coach blows the whistle, ending practice, and guys head off, but I stay, waiting. Noah climbs down, steps light, and walks over, hands in his pockets. My chest tightens, wanting him close, needing him now. “Come on,” I say, voice low, and grab his arm, pulling him behind the gym.

We’re alone, hidden by the wall, and I push him against it, fast. My lips crash into his, hard and deep, tasting sweat on his mouth. He moans, soft, and grabs my shoulders, pulling me tighter. My dick’s hard already, pressing against my shorts, and I grind into him, feeling him through his jeans. “Fuck, Noah,” I mutter, kissing him again, tongue sliding in, messy and hot. He groans, loud, and it makes my whole body burn.

I yank his shirt up, tossing it, and run my hands over his chest, feeling his heartbeat racing. He’s panting, eyes dark, and I tug his jeans down, quick. His dick pops out, thick and ready, and I grab it, stroking fast. He gasps, head tipping back, and I stroke harder, loving how he shakes under my hand. “Mateo,” he says, voice breaking, and my heart slams, wild, needing more.

I shove my shorts down, freeing myself, and my dick’s throbbing, wet at the tip. I spin him around, push him against the wall, and spit in my hand, slicking up fast. I line up, press against him, and slide in, hard and deep. He moans, loud, nails clawing my back, and I thrust, fast, slamming into him. It’s rough, hot, and I feel him tight around me, driving me crazy. “You’re mine,” I growl, voice hoarse, and he nods, gasping, “Yes, fuck, yes.”

I grab his hips, pulling him back to meet every thrust, my dick pounding deep. His nails dig in, scratching hard, and I groan, loud, loving the sting. Sweat drips off me, mixing with his, and I fuck him faster, hips snapping, heat building low in my gut. He’s moaning, nonstop, loud enough someone might hear, but I don’t care—just want him, all of him. I reach around, grab his dick, and pump it, quick and tight, matching my thrusts.

“Cum for me,” I say, panting, and he tenses, body shaking. He cums hard, spilling over my hand, hot and thick, and it pushes me over. I thrust one more time, deep, and cum inside him, groaning loud, my whole body jerking. We’re stuck together, breathing fast, my chest pressed to his back. I kiss his neck, slow, soft, tasting salt, and he turns his head, kissing me back, shaky but sweet. My heart feels full, warm, like he’s everything.

We pull apart, fixing our clothes, and I grin at him, still buzzing. He smiles, small, and my chest skips, happy. But then I hear a laugh, sharp and mean, from around the corner. My stomach drops, cold hitting fast, and I step out, looking. Ryan’s there, leaning on the wall, smirking at me. “Saw you, fag,” he says, voice loud, and my fists clench, anger boiling up quick.

“What’d you say?” I snap, stepping closer, heart pounding mad. He laughs again, says, “You and your boyfriend. Whole team’s gonna know.” My chest burns, rage and fear mixing, and I lunge, shoving him hard. He stumbles, still grinning, and says, “Wait ‘til tomorrow.” My hands shake, temper flaring, and I swing, fist ready, but Noah grabs me, pulls me back. “Mateo, stop,” he says, voice tight, scared, and I freeze, breathing hard, staring at Ryan walking off.

I turn to Noah, chest heaving, and he looks worried, eyes wide. “He’s gonna tell,” I say, voice low, mad as hell. My hands ball up, wanting to hit something, and Noah grabs them, holding tight. “We’ll figure it out,” he says, but I feel sick, trapped, like our secret’s slipping away. I pull away, pacing, heart racing, and kick the wall, hard, pain shooting up my leg.

Then Caleb shows up, fast, jogging over from the track. My stomach twists, seeing him, and he stops, hands up, looking scared. “Mateo, listen,” he says, voice shaky, and I glare, mad still. “What?” I snap, and he steps closer, eyes darting. “I’m sorry, okay? For everything. I didn’t mean it to go this far.” My chest tightens, not trusting him, and I say, “Too late.”

He swallows, looks at Noah, then me, and says, “Lena’s got something big planned. I heard her. She’s not done.” My heart jumps, cold again, and I grab his shirt, pulling him close. “What’s she doing?” I ask, voice hard, but he shakes his head, says, “I don’t know, just… watch out.” I shove him back, mad and scared, and he stumbles, then runs off. My head spins, fear clawing up, and I look at Noah, needing him to say it’s okay.

But before he can, my phone buzzes in my pocket, loud and sharp. I pull it out, hands shaky, and see a text from an unknown number. My breath catches, fast, and I open it. My heart stops, ice hitting me hard. It’s a picture—me and Noah, behind the gym, my dick out, mid-thrust. My hands tremble, the phone slipping, and I show Noah, his face going white. “Who sent this?” he whispers, voice breaking, and I can’t answer—just stare, panic choking me.

Then I hear Coach’s whistle, loud and close, and his voice yells, “Mateo! Get over here now!” My chest locks up, fear slamming in, and I look at Noah, eyes wide. Did Ryan tell already? Did Coach see this? My legs shake, stuck, and Noah grabs my arm, whispering, “What do we do?” I don’t know, can’t think—just feel the picture burning in my hand, Coach’s steps getting closer, and everything about to blow up.