Frequencies of Us Chapter 75: Lock and a Lunge

Mateo POV

I fumble the shed key in my hand, my fingers sweaty from running. We’re outside now, away from the AV room mess. I shove the door shut behind us and twist the lock. It clicks loud in the quiet. Noah’s right there, pressed against me. The air in the shed smells old, like gasoline and wood. My heart’s still racing from that video, from the door rattling. But he’s here, close, and that’s all I need.

He grabs my face and kisses me hard. His lips crash into mine, fierce and hot. “I’m sorry I doubted you,” he gasps between kisses. His words hit me deep, soft and real. I feel them in my chest, warm and heavy. I kiss him back, just as hard. My hands slide under his shirt, fast. His skin’s warm, smooth. I run my fingers up his back, feeling every line, every curve. He shakes a little, pressing closer. Our heat’s like a fire, pushing back the world outside.

My tongue finds his, wet and rough. He moans into my mouth, low and needy. I grip his hips, pulling him tight. He’s hard against me. I feel it through his jeans, and it makes my stomach flip. I tug his shirt up, yanking it off. My hands roam his chest, touching everywhere. He’s lean, strong. I kiss his neck, biting soft. He groans louder, hands grabbing my shorts.

I help him, shoving them down quick. He touches me, firm and warm. I hiss, loud, my knees weak. His fingers move, slow at first, then faster. I grab his jeans, undoing them sloppy. They drop, and I reach for him. He’s hot in my hand, hard. I stroke him, matching his pace. Our breaths get fast, messy. He pulls my hair, just enough to sting. I growl, kissing him deep. His tongue fights mine, desperate.

I push him back, gentle but sure. He hits the wall, wood creaking. I press against him, hips rocking. My hand speeds up on him. He’s shaking now, moaning my name. “Mateo,” he says, voice breaking. It’s too much. I feel the heat snap, spilling over his fingers. I groan, loud and rough. He follows fast, trembling against me. We hold each other, panting, sticky and close. His breath’s warm on my neck. It’s sweet, perfect, even in this shed.

I pull back, grinning. He smiles, shy and soft. I fix my shorts, hands slow. He pulls his jeans up, laughing quiet. “You’re trouble,” he says. I shrug. “Only with you.” My chest feels big, full of him. I step closer, kissing his forehead. He leans into me, warm and safe. I want this forever, just us.

A bang hits the door. Loud, hard. The metal groans, shaking in the frame. Noah freezes, his hands on my arms. My heart jumps, adrenaline spiking. I spin fast, grabbing a wrench from the shelf. It’s heavy in my hand, cold. “Who’s there?” I yell, voice sharp. No answer. Another bang, louder. The door rattles, like someone’s slamming it with their fist.

Noah’s behind me, breathing fast. I feel him shake, scared. My stomach twists. I step closer to the door, wrench up. “Back off!” I shout. The banging stops. Silence falls, creepy and thick. I wait, listening hard. My grip tightens on the wrench. Noah grabs my arm, pulling me back a little. “Mateo,” he whispers. His voice shakes too.

I hear something. A low hiss, right through the crack in the door. “I’ve got proof, Vargas.” The voice is quiet, mean, like a snake. My blood runs cold. Proof? Of what? The video? Something worse? My mind races. Lena’s face pops up, smirking. Or Ryan, with his spray can. Maybe Ortiz, pulling strings. I don’t know. But they’ve got something, and it’s bad.

I step back, heart pounding. Noah’s close, his hand on my back. “What proof?” I say, loud enough to carry. No answer. Just silence now, heavy and wrong. I look at Noah. His eyes are wide, dark. He’s scared, same as me. My chest hurts, mad and worried. They’re after us, always after us. For being us.

I turn to the door again, wrench ready. “Say it!” I yell. Nothing. My hands sweat, slippery on the metal. I want to bust out, face whoever’s there. But I don’t. Noah’s here, and I won’t leave him. I take a breath, trying to calm down. The silence stretches, too long.

Noah’s hand tightens on me. “Mateo,” he says, soft. I look at him. He nods, like he’s saying we’re okay. I don’t feel okay. My mind’s stuck on that voice. Proof. It could be anything. Photos, videos, lies. Stuff to ruin us. I feel sick, thinking about it. We’ve been running from this crap too long.

I step closer to the door, listening. No sound now. Maybe they’re gone. I don’t trust it. I press my ear to the wood, holding my breath. Nothing at first. Then a creak, faint. Like someone shifting outside. My heart slams again. They’re still there. Waiting. My grip on the wrench gets tight, knuckles white.

Noah pulls me back, gentle. “Don’t,” he says. I want to argue, but he’s right. We’re locked in, stuck. I hate it. I hate them, whoever’s out there. My chest burns, angry and scared. I turn to Noah, pulling him close. His arms wrap around me, tight. I bury my face in his neck, breathing him in. He’s warm, steady. It’s all I’ve got right now.

The silence stays, thick and heavy. I wait, holding him. My mind won’t stop. Proof. It’s hanging over us, big and dark. I don’t know what they’ve got, but it’s something bad. Something to hurt us. I feel it in my gut, twisting hard. Noah’s hand rubs my back, slow. “We’ll figure it out,” he whispers. I nod, but I’m not sure.

A soft thud hits the door. Quiet, like a hand resting there. My head snaps up. I stare, breath stuck. The wrench feels heavy, ready. Noah’s grip tightens on me. We wait, frozen. Another thud, louder. My stomach drops. They’re not gone. They’re playing with us. My heart races, fast and loud.

Then my phone buzzes in my pocket. Sharp, cutting the quiet. I pull it out, hands shaky. The screen lights up, bright. A text: “You’re mine now.” My throat closes. I look at Noah. His face goes pale. The door bangs once, hard. Wood splinters a little. I step back, pulling him with me. Someone’s breaking in.