Person A commits murder, and for several reasons Person B takes the blame for them. Person C is their attorney, who knows, and is helping them cover up, in more than one way. Alternatively, Person C is Person A's fake alibi. They help them hide the body and stuff. How the trial and such goes is up to you
"...En tus besos yo encontraba
El calor que me brindaba
El amor y la pasión..."
Antonio rubbed his eyes with a sigh, taking another swig of his coffee as he absently listened to the music playing from his old radio, set to a Spanish station. Right now, they were the only things left keeping him awake. He had been working since nearly six in the morning on paper that had been neglected over the past week while he was away on 'vacation' with his best friends, Gilbert and Francis. It ended up backfiring on him, though, for he had been working for almost fifteen hours, catching up.
It was about nine o'clock at night now. The night was alight with the bright lights of the city. Antonio allowed himself a small break, taking his glasses off and standing up, walking over to the large bay windows. He leaned against the frame, cradling his mug to his chest to absorb its heat.
"Es la historia de un amor, Como no hay otro igual..."
How long had it been since he had actually taken the time to think about such simple things such as the city lights? Nowadays, he was more focused on paperwork and setting up new trade agreements with oversea market companies.
This past year was especially hurtful, what with his tomato crops being ruined by pests and being sprayed with what was supposed to be a 'non-harmful pesticide'. It turned out to be very harmful for his tomato crops, and almost half of the plantation was spoiled.
He sued the pesticide company with his attorney and childhood friend Abel, but didn't get much out of it other than a few hundred dollars and getting the guys involved fired.
Antonio was so absorbed in his thoughts, that when someone harshly knocked on his apartment door, he jumped slightly and spilled hot coffee all over the front of his shirt and on his pants. He gave a pained yelp and jumped around for a couple minutes, stumbling towards the kitchen to snatch a towel off the oven handle and drying his front before resorting to removing his shirt and wiping away the still warm liquid off of his chest and stomach.
He muttered in Spanish as he wiped away the coffee and walked back towards the door, where someone roughly rapped on the hard wood again. "Coming, I'm coming," he called, his Spanish accent rolling off his tongue, and opened the door. When he saw the familiar face of his lover, he immediately perked up.
"Lovino! What are you doing here? Don't you usually call before you..." he trailed off, his face contorting from puzzled pleasantness to worry.
Now that he actually looked at the smaller Italian, he looked like hell. His usually tan skin was a sickly pale, and he shook lightly, leaning heavily against the frame of the doorway. Lovino's dark chestnut hair and clothes were messy and askew. There seemed to be a dark liquid staining his clothed and stuck in his hair. Upon closer inspection, Antonio recognized it to be blood, setting off alarm bells in his head.
"My God, Lovino, what happened?!" he asked urgently, and Lovino only replied in a small whimper before his knees buckled and he fell forward. Antonio caught him just in time before he hit the ground.
He quickly lifted Lovino up and sort of awkwardly half dragged, half carried him over to the couch, where he carefully set him down before getting a glass of water. Lovino gratefully took the cool liquid and quickly gulped it down, only stopping when he began choking and had to set the now empty glass down on the coffee table to violently cough into the crook of his arm. Antonio noticed, now that there was a better lighting, that he had a large, dark bruise on the left side of his jaw.
He rubbed Lovino's back soothingly before asking him what had happened. Lovino ran a hand through his unruly and tangled hair, taking shaky and gasping breaths.
"I-" he began in a high, wavering voice, before he broke down and began sobbing into his hands, doubling over. His body wracked violently with each sob.
Antonio stared at him, bewildered enough to not know what to say in this situation. Just what exactly happened to make Lovino so upset? He carefully rested a hand on the Italian's shoulder, causing him to flinch, though Antonio kept a firm hold.
"Why don't you start by explaining why there's blood all over you? Are you hurt?"
Lovino shook his head furiously.
"No," he whimpered, "It's not mine. None of it is." He gave another loud sob, looking up at Antonio in such pain, that he felt as if someone had squeezed his heart. "Jesus, Toni, what have I done?"
"I don't know," the Spaniard said carefully. "What have you done, Lovi?"
Lovino gave a pained noise and looked down to the ground at his feet. "... I was at the office putting some files away when Lenden came over," he explained, his voice no higher than a whisper. Antonio had to sit right in front of him, resting his hands on his legs in a comforting manner.
"Lenden started being an asshole, like always, doing the usual bullshit. Getting in my way, making fun of our relationship, being a homophobic asswad, you know the shit he does. Then he started taunting me. After his words didn't work, he started shoving me around. After I told him to fuck off and gave him the finger, I started to walk away, but he grabbed me from behind. He turned me around and punched me square in the fucking face." He touched his jaw absently, biting his lip.
"I... I got pissed and hit him back, and we started fighting. He... He suddenly grabbed that damn bat that Ronny always has and tried to beat me with it. I was able to dodge all his hits, and I had to grab it at one point to keep him from bashing my goddamn brains out. I kicked him off, and stumbled back, letting go. I-" he was cut off by another oncoming sob and he covered his lower face with a hand, shaking his head. Tears started to roll down his flushed cheeks.
"I don't know what came over me. I was scared shitless, but I don't- Jesus fuck, Antonio. I-"
"You hit him with the bat," Antonio finished slowly and quietly. Lovino nodded.
"God, it was awful. Blood was... Blood was fucking everywhere. I didn't even think I'd hit him that hard until I saw that. I didn't know what to do, so I ran over here."
"Was anyone else there?" Antonio asked, and Lovino shook his head, saying that it was just the two of them. Antonio looked down, thinking, his mind feeling like a tornado had just gone through. He asked if he had done anything to the body, and Lovino shook his head again, burying his face in his hands.
After a few moments, Antonio made up his mind and stood up, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it on.
"Where are you going?" Lovino asked him, his eyebrows drain together in worry and fear. Antonio shook his head.
"Bring me to where the body is. We need to get rid of it before anybody finds it. Then we need to make you an alibi in case someone finds it," he said, and Lovino's eyes widened. He was going to refuse Antonio's help, not wanting him to get involved, but the Spaniard cut him off, holding him by the shoulders firmly so he could look him in the eye.
"Lovino, I love you, and I will be damned if you go to prison for an accident. I will do whatever it takes to help you out of this, no matter what, okay? Now, I need you to bring me to where Lenden is, alright?"
Lovino stared at him for a moment, overwhelmed, before absently nodding, allowing Antonio to lead him to his car. Together, they drove to the office and parked just in front the back entrance. They entered the office, and the sharp metallic smell of blood hit them, making them have to cover their noses and mouths.
When they reached the body, Antonio closed his eyes tightly, swearing in Spanish under his breath. It was terrible. Lenden's face was completely bashed in, the skull shattered, and brain matter mixed with the blood that spilled out. It was hard to believe that this was once a person. An awful scumbag, but a person none the less.
Lovino looked like he would be sick.
Antonio took a deep breath and bent down to pick up the body, blood getting all over the front of his shirt. Lovino gasped and began panicking, but Antonio told him to grab the ankles. He hesitated, but did as he was told, helping Antonio bring the body over to the emergency stairwell. When they reached the backdoor, Antonio had Lovino open the trunk and threw the body in, positioning it to where it would fit in the small space.
Antonio had Lovino stay in the car while he went back inside and cleaned the mess as best as he could. It took him well over an hour, and Lovino could already smell the body rotting in the back when Antonio returned. He tossed the bat in the trunk with the body. When he got in the car, Lovino saw that he carried tapes with him, and gave him an odd look.
"I disabled the security cameras and took the tapes," he explained. "I plan on burning them later. I cleaned everything up as best as I could, and it doesn't smell like blood anymore."
"Where will we put it?" Lovino asked, and Antonio thought for a moment.
"... We'll throw it in the lake. I can grab an industrial bag from the janitor's closet." Lovino nodded in agreement, and Antonio exited the vehicle to return with a large, thick black bag in hand. About ten minutes later, they arrived at an empty dock. The water was dark under the night sky, the light of the moon casting shadows everywhere.
Antonio opened up the bag and inserted the body with some difficulty. When it was finally in, he was about to put some heavy rocks in when he remembered something. He dug around the body's pockets and fished out Lenden's wallet and snapped off his name tag and ID card.
"There, now it should hopefully take longer to identify him," he sighed, relieved he remembered, and stuck them in his pocket. He put the stones in with the body, tied the bag closed and slipped the bag into the water.
Later, when they finally entered Antonio's apartment, they both took a long shower, letting the hot water run over them as they sat in silence before deciding to actually get washed. Afterwards, Antonio allowed Lovino to borrow a large grey T-shirt and deep purple pajama pants. He lay in Antonio's bed for a few minutes alone, waiting for his lover as he thought of the events of that day.
When Antonio returned, dressed in a pair of white pajama bottoms with a printed tomato pattern, he found Lovino curled up, crying. He slipped into bed next to him, wrapping his arms around Lovino's waist and, holding him to his chest, whispered soothing words to him in Spanish. Lovino turned around, wrapped his arms around Antonio, and cried into his shoulder.
They lay like that, hugging each other until Lovino cried himself to sleep.
Antonio knew what he had done, and knew what he had to do. He had to keep all suspicion from Lovino, no matter what it took. In the morning, he would have to call Abel. He knew that he was the only one who could help with this.
He just hoped he would.