Ides of Spring (Closed with NSAria)
He had stepped out from the bathroom thinking that his friends had returned, wearing a hoodie and a beanie for the cool night air. Pre-April Snaps, they liked to called it even though it was March. He had his hands up in a peaceful surrender from the bright flashlights pointed at him and the guns drawn his way. The college male had no idea what was going on, but the bang that sounded off determines everything. He was taken out the room by the ambulance, his hand sticking out the bag before it was pushed in and zipped up. His friends watched in horror as he was dead. That was how it appeared at least. He was far from it.

The room he awoke into was dark, save for the yellow light shining down on him and the silver metallic cold table. His hands were cuffed to the leg of the table that could not be moved. Instead, they were built into the solid concrete floor below him.

“You've gotten yourself into quite the situation” a voice said with a hearty chuckle. The door creaked open and in came a man, probably in his forties or fifties by appearance, dressed in a police attire, the title of Sheriff bore proudly on his shirt. “Just wait till she gets here because oh boy, she has a lot to say about you and your buddies. Murder just isn't something we let slide in Briar’s Haven.”

Of course the room was with a double mirror. She was watching from the other side, short in form compared to the taller male beside her with flowing golden hair and a thick beard to boot, the Deputy of the station. The wrinkles on her face told off about her just as much as the short graying hair did.

“As much as I would love to” the male said to her. “I can't do anything was his friends that actually broke the rules.”

“Dammit” she spat with southern sass. “Fine. We can handle it. We've waited too long for this. Are you...positive?”

The male nodded deeply, staring intently at the male bound to his chair on the other side. She took that as more than enough reason and began to walk off. The Deputy knew it was handled then and would willingly abide with what was to come next. She returned with a packet of paper.

“Alright. Scare him shitless. Your papa in there could make things worse.”


Name: Brandon "Bran" Dixon
Age: Appears in his middle 20s
Height: 6'4"
Weight: 215 lbs
Description: Long dirty blond hair, striking green eyes. His body is muscular in frame while also lean. His beard is thick, but maintained.
Occupation: Deputy of Briar's Haven, a town of 3,000 that is based on midwestern settlements.
Role: Seeder
"Murder? What are you talking about?" His eyes wide with fear and confusion, his voice quivering with fear. "I....I was waiting on the pizza guy."

He shivered in the cold room as they had taken his hoodie from him, leaving him exposed to the cold air in a simple snug t-shirt and jeans.

"Where are my friends? Why can't I see them? Where am I?" A flurry of questions fly out of his mouth as he looks around the room. His deep blue eyes catch the harsh yellow light he stares at the mirror in panic, almost as if he were begging his reflection to help him. He leaned down and ran a confined hand nervously though his short curly hair.

'What am I going to do?' he thinks to himself, 'I don't even know what happened to them and I'm getting blamed for it.'

Name: Jonathan "Johnny" Andrews
Age: 22
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 175 lbs
Description: Short slightly curly bright red hair, with sapphire blue eyes. He has a strong swimmers build with a dusting of freckles nearly from head to toe. No facial or body hair to speak of.
Occupation: Student at the University of Florida. Is co-captain of the university swim team
Of course he would ask about that. Everyone usually did, so clearly it made sense, but it was interesting to see how the male would react to a couple of more accusations, especially given the face he was giving him now. Oh, he could see how that was a problem.

"Ever hear the phrase guilty by association" he asked the male before him, reading through his confiscated wallet. "Your buddies did something really bad Mr. Andrews and we have the parking lot footage."

He pointed toward the television in the room, his boots clicking on the floor as he walked towards it, turning it on. The screen had static, that was to be expected given the lack of the proper feed to things like cable, but that was not its function. He pulled out a tape. Who had things like that these days? There were still some uses for the old hunk of junk and when he popped it in, he revealed the footage.

"Here we have Officer Dawes working his usual route when he notices this" he motions to the corner of the screen near the market. That in itself revealed Johnathan's four friends, two men and women respectively, alongside two other boys. "Imagine his surprise when he catches what they're doing."

He reached into his pocket, revealing a recorder and placed a much smaller tape inside, which rolled back the voice from the call this said officer reported back immediately.

"It appears they're selling drugs" the voice stated. "I'm going to investigate."

"And investigate he did" the man chuckled before pressing play. The sounds of arguing could be heard and the scene revealed before them showed the officer trying to fight both female figures off before he got struck from behind by one of the men. With his gun dropped, one of the women took it and fired. "Now I've got an angry mayor waiting to see you, a wife and children back at Dawes's home to explain this to, and of course there's you. What were you doing here in the first place?"

At that moment, the door opened and the woman from the other side stepped inside, followed by another male.

"We could just kill him now" she said, right to the point. "It would be easy to clean up and I'm certain the Deputy's been itching to try that new rifle of his."

All three of them chuckled before looking back at the male. Probably at this point he may have realized something was not quite right, but it was clear there was panic written over his face.

"Depends on him, I suppose." They all looked down at the male, their minds weighing the options over as if it really was a conflicting thought. "Or you could sign a confession, explaining the situation. We don't know as much as you do, but if it's one thing I won't stand, it's to let a crime go unpunished in my town."
"Guilt by association? What is this 1954?" The tone of the accusation set his blood aflame. "I was clearly not there, there isn't a judge in the country that would convict me of anything. The burden of proof falls upon you, and I fail to see any pointing to me." He sits back in his chair.

"You can explain whatever you want to whoever you damn well please, but I had absolutely nothing to do with this crime, and even if I did have prior knowledge of it, good luck proving it."

His pale face blanched at the mention of the rifle. But his anger steeled his resolve against them. "Fuck you. I'm not signing shit. Not without a competent lawyer." He nearly spat at her feet at the idea. "If you have video of my friends doing this, why aren't you interrogating them? And as for why we were here, we were driving to New Orleans for spring break and we decided to stop for the night here. Not that that really matters."
Oh, he was certainly a lively one and the Sheriff was going to enjoy this one very much.

"Boy, do you see the balls on this one" his deep voice coated with just the subtlest hint of a Southerner's accent. He slammed his hands down on the table so fast and hard, if Johnathan flinched, it would be totally understandable. "I like this kid already. He likes to play it rough. A man on edge if you will. He thinks this is up for negotiation. You think if we knew where your friends were, we would be here interrogating some leprechaun like you?"

He took a seat on the table, his brown eyes sizing up the younger male's blues. Strapped to his side was a revolver, single action to be exact. He pulled it from his waist and instantly brought it to his hand, pulling the hammer back as he pointed it directly at Johnathan.

"You heard the boy and that mouth of his" the joking tone was gone and his eyes hinted at a lust to just pull the trigger. "Law's what we say it is and if we say you're guilty, then you best believe you're guilty. I think you're a smart boy though."

He used his other hand to motion for the paper the woman carried. He placed the packet in front of the as before the woman came over with a pen, her angry stern face clearly meant she was upset herself and a slap across his face sounded off through the room.

"You can either sign it or just hope what's coming out of this gun isn't going to blow you and your brains from here to kingdom come."
His bright eyes snap open as the Sheriff points his gun at him. Is this really happening? This can't be actually happening. He had heard of crooked small town cops before, but this is ridiculous.

He considering just signing the papers to save his own skin until the mayor slapped him, it knocked him out of his defeated frame of mind and brought him to his senses, and he started thinking.

He hadn't done anything wrong. He wasn't present when whatever happened happened, he wasn't on the security footage. He was being set up, there wasn't any other possibility.

He took a deep breath and said a short prayer to an old goddess he had heard his grandmother invoke for courage, reaching up and grabbing the pendant beneath his shirt that she had given him. "No." He only speaks a single word because he doesn't trust his voice beyond that. His face showed no emotion but his eyes betrayed him. He was nearly crying from fear.
The trigger was pulled and the round sounded off loudly. It had not hit Johnathan in any form, but it certainly hit the wall behind him, which was relatively close. Chances were he was going to fire again, but he interfered.

"Both of you need to relax" he yelled. "If he doesn't know, he doesn't know and neither do we."

The Deputy saw the tears rolling down the male's face, which only probably intensified after the Sheriff's stunt. He walked towards the table with some tissue.

"I can't speak for them. They're letting personal feelings cloud their judgement. You were left to hang and dry in that room. Are you sure they didn't say anything? Anything at all. I don't know your buddies, but we don't have much to go off with other than this video, the crime scene itself and what actually occurred."

He looked at the Sheriff and Mayor, urging them to leave while he handled the situation.
He just about had a heart attack when the deputy actually pulled the trigger.

"I'll give you what you want. You. I'm not saying another word until the two of them leave the room." He sits back in his chair and waits. "I don't care where they go. But you will get absolutely nothing from me until they leave." It's a waiting game at this point. He will stay perfectly silent until the Sheriff and the Mayor leave the room.

After they leave he noticeably relaxes. "All I knew is that they were going out to get some beer, and I stayed behind to order pizza. They didn't say anything about a drug deal, I didn't even know they did drugs. I certainly don't have any idea about what that was." He gestures to the little TV.

"We were just trying to get to New Orleans for spring break, Kat's sister lives there and was going to be out of town for the week anyway, so we figured it would be a good place to crash so we can party all week without having to pay for a hotel room."
Brandon watched at the hostility, but only checked to see if Johnthan was hurt in any form. Any blood coming from his ear from possible rupture of eardrums? No. That was good to say the least, but the figure before was very shaken over. That was to be expected. He turned to look back at the Sheriff and at the Mayor, shoving the paper towards them.

"The both of you get out of here" he commanded. "Now..."

They were mostly shooken up at the way he acted, but began to walk out the door. Brandon sighed as he shifted his long hair back, tying it into a bun as he had to handle the situation before him.

"I'm not saying what they did was acceptable in any form. It's not no matter way you look at it. Dawes...that was their son. A Sheriff and a Mayor working together through marriage. Yea, that's tough, but not as tough as what you're going through too."

He listened to the story about going to New Orleans and what was waiting for them there.

"Mardi Gras is over if I recall" he stated. "But yea, that's definitely a good spot for Spring Break all the same. You were only about 50 more miles away from it. I get it though. A trip from Florida to New Orleans can be taxing or at least I'm assuming Florida."

He chuckled when he brought up they looked through the hotel room for any possible evidence, which is where they found his wallet that had his ID on it as well as his college ID.

"I won't get you to sign a confession. Those were the bloodthirsty neanderthals. However, they did get some of your information jotted down for records. Getting a signed statement from to clear that up would certainly help as it would be your actual words and not possible false accusations. What happens afterwards, I don't know. As it stands, you're stuck here and your friends remain to be seen. I can get you a phone call to your family to come and get you though. That may take a while, but you'll be safe here. At least with me around. What do you say?"
"Yea, we missed Mardi Gras by a couple weeks, but New Orleans is still a fun place." He smiles despite his ears still ringing from the Sheriff's gunshot, relaxing a bit with the Deputy, something about the man calmed him, despite his large stature.

"Yea, I can write up a statement. I don't see why not." A bit of eagerness enters his voice, but it is quickly replaced by disbelief, "My friends just left me?" He slumps in his chair. "Why would they just leave me? I've known Justin and Ryan since middle school. They're my best friends." He nearly sounds as though he were going to cry.

He goes to nervously run his fingers through his only to have them jolted from the restraints, "Dammit." He yanks at them a few times, "Could you take these off, please? And can I call my parents? Please." His blue eyes plead for this small kindness.
Brandon shrugged.

"We can't find them anywhere," he stated. "The car was found on the scene, but what happened after that remains to be known. That's how we found the Hotel room and found...well, you."

He walked towards the door and a woman, younger, but dressed like a secretary. He asked her for some papers, this time for a statement and with a push to the glasses she wore, she nodded and walked off, heels clicking at a moderate pace to go retrieve the files.

"I can get you the phone call after" he said, walking back towards Johnathan. "But this, I can do now."

He reached inside the brown officer pants he wore, pulling out a set of keys. With a simple click, the cuffs came off, which revealed the male's wrists, a bit red from possibly being cuffed on him too tight.

"Do you mind if I" he motioned to the idea of holding the other male's wrists. "My wife works with plants and usually has a remedy for typical joint aches. A little combination of aloe, lavender, and frankincense can be a bit soothing. The aroma apparently also helps ease an anxiousness, which I'm sure you're probably feeling right about now."

Only when Johnathan gave him permission would he apply it around the male's wrists, his firm but gentle hands massaging some of the tension away that could have presented itself. He stopped when the door opened and the secretary arrived with some papers in her hand.

"There we are!"

He smiled as he thanked her, taking the blank papers and setting them down. He let Johnathan fill out the parts he needed and readied the recording device.

"Alright" he said. "Let's get you out of here with this statement."

Once everything was jotted down, Brandon played the tape back of what the male had said as well as revealed what Johnathan had state on the paper. If everything was good for him, all it came down for the male before the Deputy to do now was sign his signature and all would be well.
Jonathan furrows his brow at the thought of his friends just leaving. He watched the woman as she stood in the doorway, 'Do all secretaries dress like that?' he though to himself with a light smirk. If she noticed him, he would just give her a polite smile.

"Oh thank you," he shook out his hands when the Deputy took the cuffs off, "The Sheriff doesn't do anything gently does he?" He says with more than a little anger in his voice as he rubs the redness on his wrists.

He smiles at the offer from the Deputy, "Sure. Thanks." He alternates between looking up at the Deputy and looking away in embarrassment as he is clearly blushing as the hunky Deputy massages the ointment into his wrists.

When the secretary returns he follows the Deputy's instructions and gives his statement, both written and verbally. He nods as the Deputy reads it back to him. "I sign down here at the bottom?" After a verification from the other man he would sign his name at the bottom of the page.
"Never was his thing" he retorted. "He's a wreckless man who likes to abide by rules and if any rule gets broken in any form, well, you saw what happened. The loss of Dawes probably just did him in."

He sighed deeply though, but he did notice that Johnathan clearly enjoyed the rub. With the papers signed, Brandon looked everything over and handed it to the female to begin documenting everything. He stood up, motioning for Johnathan to follow him. After all, he did say that as long as he was around, he would keep the male safe. That was exactly what he meant and he was going to do just that.

"So what were you going to school for," he asked, walking down the halls. "I never could go to a University, so I just settled with community college. Got into Criminal Justice and now here I am."

He unlocked a door that had the name Deputy over the window. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him and leaving the lights off. He pointed to the phone on the desk, making good of his word that Johnathan could get his phone call.
"The irony of that statement. Clearly he doesn't have to abide by those rules himself." The venom creeping back into his voice at the mention of the Sheriff following the rules.

He follows the Deputy out of the interrogation room, feeling positive that this ordeal was nearly over answers the Deputy's question cheerfully, "Well, I originally wanted to go into sports medicine, I've always been a jock, but my grades aren't high enough for medical school. So I've bounced around between majors trying to find something that fits. Thankfully my parents are very understanding." He smiles brightly.

He enters the Deputy's office, more than slightly confused as to why the man is leaving the lights off, but is far too eager to call his parents to get him the hell out of here. "Thanks for letting me use your phone." He sits down behind the desk and dials his Dad's cell phone number.
"Relax" Brandon said. "It's over with and you're alive. That's a good thing and no prob. Maybe someone can get you out of here soon enough."

The desklight was probably the only thing lit in the room presently, but Brandon just insisted that all he preferred was the darkness during his quiet hours. The office itself was spacious, but even with the light offs, the lights from outside of the room made everything easily visible. There were two couches, one resting on the wall by the three windows that revealed the other desks outside and another that was more so of a futon on the opposite side of the windows, door and desk. Brandon sat on the sturdy object, not saying much for the time being.

As Johnathan called, nothing came through. The typical "The person you're trying to reach is currently unavailable."
His eyes grew wide as the message played over and over, "You've got to be kidding. Can I try again? I might has misdialed." If getting the go ahead from the Deputy he would try his Mom's cell phone, he's had this number memorized since his freshman year of high school.

[The person you are trying to reach is unavailable]

"What the shit?" He puts the phone down and nearly bursts into tears.
Brandon rose up from the seat after he let Johnathan get the second call. To any avail, a voice that was not animatronic could not be found, which left Johnny flustered. He made his way over to the male, bringing his arms around him lovingly, if not, intimately. He rubbed the other figure's shoulders affectionately, hoping it would cheer him up.

"It's okay" he assured him. "You know they would have given everything to be here, but the funds on all of our ends just weren't working. When the wedding is over, how about we go spend time with them? We can do that at least."

Within those moments, new thoughts were beginning to fill Jonathan's mind. Thoughts of marriage and a loving relationship with the Deputy known as Brandon or Brann, he liked to call him.
He leaned into the hug, grabbing Brann's forearms lovingly. "I had always pictured my parents there for my wedding, mom crying as I give my vows, dad being the stubborn old bastard he always is." Wedding? What the fuck am I talking about? I'm not even engaged. "I think it would be nice to see them after, hell they might even give us a honeymoon as a wedding gift." He laughs.

He leans his head against Brann's bicep, "Do you think we will have a big family? I've always wanted a big family." What the hell am I talking about? I don't want kids! I hate kids!

He stands up and turns around to face his soon to be husband, sitting back on the desk and letting his knees flank Brann's waist as his hands reach up and caress his bearded face, "You're so handsome, you know that?" Okay, I can't really argue with that one, but still. What the fuck is happening to me? A silly smile crosses his face as he gazes up and the man standing before him.
Brandon nodded.

"I understand." He comforted the male. "My parents certainly are no replacements either. Florida seems like a good spot for a honeymoon too anyways."

Once he was sure Johnny was in good spirits, leaned in a bit closer. The conversation now was about children. Brann smiled at the idea of seeing Johnathan walk around, full of children.

"I was hoping you'd settle on a small number" he chuckled. "But I can't say no to that. Hopefully the fertility treatments on us both paid off."

Within that moment, Jonathan would find his testicles feeling a bit heavier than usual, something on it that was not there before.

"While I may be the one that's pitching so to say," he nuzzled the male's face with his own bearded form. "Just let me know when you need me to do the catching at times. We're in this together after all."

Of course he was implying that he would have children himself, but from the looks of things, it was clear who was doing the carrying, point in case, Brann was now holding the male in the air in the exact pose that Johnny caused when he placed his legs around his waist. Brann couldn't help himself and gave him an affectionate kiss.

"You're the one that's handsome, what with those eyes and ginger hair. Heck, even the freckles." He still carried Johnathan as he opened the room door, leading them both out. "I can't wait to see the beautiful children we'll make, but in due time. We've got a midnight wedding first and then we can consummate."

He heard a few figures congratulating him and as he stopped by the secretary from before, she handed him a paper. Their marriage certificate with both their signatures on it. It was the statement from before, but clearly, something happened.
When he testicles shifted slightly, he reached to adjust them.What the hell just happened to my balls?

Fertility treatments?

"You better keep your word on that catching promise now big guy, I can't be doing all the work all the time." He playfully teases Brann's chest and nipples beneath his shirt. Work? What work? Granted, fucking this guy wouldn't be bad, but what the hell am I talking about?

He returns the kiss passionately, savoring Brann's taste on his tongue as he explored the other man's mouth.

Jonathan blushes at his betrothed compliments and smiles warmly at the thought of carrying his children. Carrying children? What is he talking about, making babies? I'm a guy, that doesn't happen.

Jonathan stirs in his jeans, rubbing a growing hardness against Brann's abs, "Better be a quick ceremony, I'm not sure how long I can keep my hands off of you, especially if you keep grinding me into you like this."

He smiles brightly at the sight of the marriage certificate, "All but official." What the fuck is this? This isn't what I signed!

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