Eight

Phil Brooks, or CM Punk as he had insisted on being called, had been the only witness for Frank Singleton's murder.

Dean found himself interrogating the Pepsi tattooed man on Tuesday morning. Apparently when the officers had brought him down on Sunday, he had complained that he wasn't feeling well and thus was brought to the hospital. But before being instructed to come back to the station after that.

His writing pad on the wooden desk and a blue Pilot pen in his right hand being drummed on it, Dean tried his best not to sigh outwardly.

Punk had been avoiding meeting Dean's gaze. "I'm going to ask you one last time," the blue eyed cop asked. "What were you doing in the park at the time?"

"I was just jogging… yeah…"

Dean looked at him. "You were jogging in a pair of denim jeans?"

"It's the new in thing."

"Really? I've never heard of this new in thing."

"Oh well.. You're out of touch."

Dean leaned forward. "That syringe we found says otherwise… Phil."

"I told you that my name's CM Punk. Look, Officer. I don't do drugs, alright? I'm straight edge. I don't drink. I don't smoke. I don't do drugs." He showed his knuckles. The word "DRUG FREE" was tattooed. "See? Proof of it."

"I can tattoo the word GENIUS on your forehead. That doesn't make you one."

Punk gritted his teeth. "Why you-"

"I'd watch my tongue, Phil. That syringe has your fingerprints on it."

"Alright fine. I was shooting some shots." He rubbed his head. "Then I happened to look up and see it."

"And what did you see?"

"A guy… long haired… he was choking the life out of that man. It was horrible."

"What color was his hair?"

"Looks black. Could be dark brown."

"How long was his hair?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" When Dean shot him a look, he hastily answered, "Shoulder length."

"That's all?"

Punk thought hard. "He had a muscular built."

"Any distinctive feature like an earring, a tattoo, a scar?"

"No. At least not from what I could see. He did had a gold ring though with a green gem."

Dean made notes on the pad; Frank's murderer was apparently the same guy that had attacked Billy Kidman. John and him were scheduled to visit Frank's mother later that afternoon.

Punk leaned forward when Dean looked up from his notepad. "You know, I have a thing for scruffy men."

He wrinkled his nose. "I don't do drug addicts."

"You never gave any of us a chance."

"Unless you remember anything else, I'm going to have to lock you up."

The "straight edge" man's jaw dropped. "What?"

Dean walked over to the door and opened it. "Book him," he instructed Dolph.

"This is a mistake!"

"Not really."

He headed back to his desk and threw his notepad on it. John was chewing on a candy bar. "How did it go?" his partner wanted to know.

Dean sat down. "Don't chew with your mouth open."

"You're just jealous that I have a better figure than you."

"I think you may need glasses, John. By the way, you're driving this afternoon."

"Fine. But lunch is on you."

"No can do. I promised Roman I'll be meeting him."

"Look at you being all lovey dovey. I'd watch it though. You've been smiling a lot lately. And people have been talking."

"Fuck off."

John laughed. "I'll be sure to let Dwayne know."

He held up a middle finger. John laughed even harder. "Punk described our guy, by the way," Dean threw in. "He's got shoulder length black hair and is muscular built… and wears a ring."

John tapped a finger on his lip. "We'll probably know more this afternoon from Mrs Singleton."

"That's assuming that Frank knew his attacker."

"Well. Say goodbye to your sex life for the next few years. This is going to take forever to crack."

Roman glanced at his watch, waiting for Dean at Molly's Gold Roast, a café near to the police station.

His boyfriend was ten minutes late. He tried calling him but got his voicemail instead. Maybe he'd wait another ten more minutes… What if something had happened to him? He opened his CNN app in case there was a news on anything possible in their area.

Dean walked in then, his face lined with worry. He gave Roman a quick kiss. "I'm sorry. I was running by the case with the Captain."

"It's okay," Roman replied. "I was more worried about you."

"I wouldn't worry, Roman. I can handle myself. Have you ordered yet?"

"No."

A waitress stopped by their table with two pieces of A4 menus. "I'll have whatever you're having," Dean announced after a quick read through.

Roman then placed an order for two sets of the turkey rye sandwich which also had a side dish of fries and a Coke. "How's work?"

"It's alright. I have to go interview the mother of the victim we found last Sunday after this."

"I wonder what this guy's motive is."

"Who knows? Maybe he was rejected by someone who looks like all his victims."

Dean rapped his knuckles on the table lightly. He was bothered by something. Of what Roman was curious about. "Dean?" he reached out his hand to hold Dean's right hand. "Something on your mind?"

"Roman, I need you to be vigilant when you're out and about alone."

Dean was worried about that? "Okay."

"All the victims bore somewhat the same attributes as you. Namely the same hair color and they were in their thirties."

Roman shivered involuntarily. "All?"

"Yeah." He squeezed Roman's hand. "I'm sorry if I frightened you; it's just I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt. It's fine when we're together because I'll be there to protect you."

"I'll keep my eyes opened," Roman promised.

The rest of their lunch was filled with conversations about Roman's new job and if Rosey had tried to contact him. Every now and then, they just stopped and gazed at each other. New love, Roman warned himself. Wasn't that how it always started? Three to six months of pure bliss before the first quarrel?

"What are you thinking about?"

He snapped out of his thoughts' Dean was giving him a look. "What?" he replied.

Dean gave him an owlish look. "You're thinking about something."

"Uh… the… sandwich?"

He laughed. "Roman, you are a terrible liar. Come on. Tell me."

"Just thinking about honeymoon phases in a new relationship. You know before we're screaming at each other and trying to tear each other's hair?"

"I've never torn anyone's hair before so you don't have to worry about that."

Roman kept quiet. He hadn't shared that part of his life with anyone yet. Not even Dwayne. Rosey knew because he had seen the bruises. Roman had worn long sleeves to hide them.

He must have been silent far too long because Dean was staring at him. "Roman, you're doing it again."

"Sorry, Dean."

"I promise when we have a disagreement, we'll talk it out like adults, okay?"

"Okay." He could trust Dean. It made no sense - considering how long they knew each other - but he would trust Dean with anything.

The neighborhood Frank had lived in was a white picket fenced sort. There were two rows of houses facing each other with front yards of potted plants and porches. It seemed like a decent place.

Mrs Singleton was busy doing laundry when Dean and John arrived at her home. She seemed relieved that they were there though and even said so. "I've been having dreams about him," she said. "He seems at peace now."

"Was there anyone that could have wanted him dead?" John asked as Dean and him sat across her on her floral sofa..

She shook her head. "He was the one that usually hurt people. He had boyfriends though his last relationship changed him for the better."

Dean nodded. "What about his past relationships?"

"He was a powerlifter," she recalled. "At his heaviest, he was 430 pounds. He also had a nasty temper with a jealous streak."

"He beat up his boyfriends?"

"Yes. They all left him. The last one tried to help him till it was too much; then he left too. That shook him. Made him changed his life. He lost weight and got a job as a receptionist for a childcare centre."

John pocketed his notebook. "Would the last boyfriend have wanted to hurt him?"

"No. He was a gentle soul who refused to hit him back."

"We'd like to search his room for anything that could help us in our investigations."

She obliged and led them up the stairs to the first room on the right. Frank's room was quite simple. He had posters of bodybuilders like Phil Heath and Kai Greene on his blue painted wall. Dean found some books on nutrition and training on the night stand beside his bed.

Two 20kg dumbells were at the corner beside it.

And then his eyes fell upon a photo frame. His jaw dropped: Roman was sitting beside him, beaming brightly at the camera; Frank's arms were around his waist. Roman looked younger in the picture; his hair was shoulder length and he was slightly chubby. Of course, the Samoan could not have hit him back; Frank was an imposing figure next to Roman.

John must have seen it the photo too because he heard his partner saying, "What the…"

"Did you boys find what you need?" Mrs Singleton asked, walking in. Her eyes fell on the photo frame. "Oh that's him. Roman. His last boyfriend. I always liked that boy. He was such a gentle soul, always worrying about Frank and making sure that he was okay. I love my son but he was over possessive of him. Roman had to run by his decisions with him. He's quite the looker so naturally people loved to flirt with him. That usually resulted in Frank beating him."

Dean clenched his fist.

John looked stricken. "Didn't he fight back?"

"No, Mrs Singleton admitted. "He took the blows and always made excuses for Frank's behavior. At the same time, he tried to get Frank into rehab for anger management which led to more arguing. Roman decided it was enough one day when Frank thought that his friend, Coffee or something… anyways, he thought this friend was a guy hitting on Roman. They were apparently laughing about something and he confronted Roman by shoving him into a table. Kofi stepped in and threatened him. Their relationship ended there and then."

Dean always had empathy for victims but upon hearing all this, he could not find in himself to feel any for Frank.

"Frank begged him to come back a few days later but Roman had made up his mind, I think. The last I heard he was dating some vet."

The vet Dean knew about; Roman spoke fondly of him the way he did about Kofi. They were friends. But this guy… not a single thing about him from the Samoan. "How long did they date?" Dean finally asked.

"About a year and a half. I believe they were both twenty six."

At twenty six, he was having fun and having occasional sex with Jack Swagger, his old buddy from the police academy. The idea of Roman getting abused while he was having the time of his life didn't sit well with him - even though they hadn't met one another at that point.

John must have sensed Dean's anger because he said softly to him out of Mrs Singleton's earshot, "Let it go. The guy's gone and no harm's been done to Roman."

He shook his head, willing the thoughts away. He had to remain professional. There was nothing much that could have helped them. They thanked her for her time and promised to keep her abreast if they found anything.

When they stepped outside, Dean asked John to drive again; he didn't trust himself behind a wheel.

Roman had decided to surprise Dean with a home cooked meal of pasta with sauteed peppers, zucchini and smoked chicken. His boyfriend must have had a rough day though because Dean was quiet and hardly said a word.

All through dinner, he was focused on his food. He hadn't even looked at Roman. After he finished his meal, he loaded his dirty dish in the dishwasher.

"Thank you for dinner," he finally said quietly before heading to their bedroom.

Roman stared at his plate. Was it something he had said at lunch? But Dean had seemed to be in good spirits when they had went their separate ways; he even teased Roman that he would allow the Samoan to take him instead tonight.

He finished putting away all the dishes and refrigerated the balance before proceeding to the bedroom where he found Dean showering with the door wide open as was his habit. Roman changed into a pair of boxers and an old Everlast t-shirt before crawling into bed.

What was going on?

When Dean got out of the shower, drying himself with his terry clothed white colored towel, he gave Roman a look of disappointment… and pain. So it was something he had done, he thought in dismay. But what? The chef had to know. "Did… Did I do something wrong, Dean? You're so quiet..."

"Sorry. I had to gather my thoughts first before I talked you. It's been an emotionally exhausting day."

"What do you mean?"

"Roman," he started slowly. "I know we don't know each other well. That's totally fine with me. I mean, I know at the core of it, you're a good man and honestly you're someone I'm very proud to call mine." He tossed his towel into the dirty clothes hamper by the side of the bedroom before joining Roman in bed. "But today… today really hurt me."

Hurt him? Roman tried to replay all their conversations today.

"I wished you had told me about your past. And I'm not talking about that high school incident. I'm talking about your ex boyfriend… Frank."

Immediately Roman sat up. "Dean-"

"I went to his house to ask his mother questions this afternoon. Roman, Frank's the victim I saw last Sunday. I didn't even know you had dated him until I saw a picture of you both."

"I can explain-"

"I don't want explanations," Dean said sternly.

"What… what do you want?" he stammered, his heart pounding. He hoped Dean would at least give him a chance to explain why he had kept it… how ashamed he was of that particular time in his life. Surely they wouldn't be arguing about this. "Dean, I-"

"I want to comfort you, Roman." Dean pulled his body against his and stroked his skin. "I want to hold you. I wished I had known you then. I would have done this. I would have kicked his ass. Or the very least, tasered him."

"He… He's gone." Roman couldn't believe it. The serial criminal had gotten Frank.

There were nights where he used to cry and wonder why Frank couldn't see how much he loved him but the former powerlifter had too many demons in the end. A far cry to who he was when Roman first met him in the bookstore.

"He wasn't always like that." Roman snuggled against Dean. "He was actually a very charming man. Swept me of my feet. Till he noticed people being friendly with me. I meant him no harm. I beared his feelings in mind when I dealt with people but you know how persistent some people are. They don't mean anything bad but Frank was convinced that I had encouraged them to flirt."

Dean kissed his forehead. "Hey, you don't have to talk about it." His lips claimed Roman's in a soft kiss. "I love you, Roman. I told you before: I only want to love you and protect you."

"I know you do. I trust you, Dean." He held onto Dean tighter. "You know, I always smiled because I believed prior to meeting you that something good had to come out from the ashes and it did. All those roads were worth it though because they led me to you."

His boyfriend's eyes were filled with desire and Roman cupped it in his hands before kissing him with a burning need. Dean's free hand reached for the blanket and covered both their bodies with it.

A/N Thank you for your favorites/follows/reviews. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The story is a slow burner so I apologise if the plot seems to be slow. At the centre of it is a love story (bearing in mind they only knew each other for a week or so) :-) True love always wins rest assured! You guys rock!