People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can...
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Jeongguk opened the dishwasher and quickly loaded the last of the dirty coctail glasses and a few shot glasses, still sticky with the remains of sweet kamikaze. After activating the device, he approached the bar and, grasping a cloth in his hand, began wiping the tabletop from the remnants of alcohol left on it. Taking advantage of the fact that his employer needed extra hands to work, he worked as a bartender for some time now, too. Thanks to this, he had an extra injection of cash, and he did not have to look for a second job elsewhere. Besides, he liked the place. Seokjin turned out to be a really nice guy, and he had to admit he was very funny. San was constantly flirting with him and trying to hit on him every time they saw each other, but he also got on very well with him. Only Namjoon, his boss's husband, looked at him as if mentally stabbing him in a million different ways. He could feel his eyes on him now, too, though he tried hard to ignore it.
As he wiped the bar, he glanced surreptitiously at the man. As expected, Namjoon was standing near the entrance. The bodyguard was leaning against the door, crossing his arms over a strong chest. His lips were drawn in a narrow line, and dark eyes closely followed his every move. Trying not to pay attention to him, Jeongguk continued cleaning.
Suddenly, however, the door to the back door swung open and Jin appeared. The man was carrying cases filled with alcohol in his arms and was struggling to squeeze through the narrow door to carry the delivered goods inside the bar. Without thinking for long, he tossed the cloth on the bar and started running towards him.
"Give me this," he said, holding both hands out in front of him. "I'll help you," he added, and hurriedly grabbed all the boxes he was carrying from Seokjin's hands.
"Oh, thanks," the older man said quickly, exhaling loudly with evident relief. "That's fucking heavy!" He groaned, wiping sweat from his forehead with a theatrical gesture. "You can do it?" He asked quickly, however, closely following with his eyes the young musician who, without the slightest expression of pain or effort, walked with the boxes deeper into the bar.
Jin followed in his footsteps. He felt a pain in his shoulder muscles caused by the weight of the goods being carried, and for a moment he glanced with admiration over the slim figure of the guitarist. Jeongguk carried the crates as if they weighed practically nothing. He could see his biceps tense and the veins creeping around his tattooed forearms more pronounced, but even so, there was not even the slightest grimace on his beautiful face that would indicate that he was carrying something so heavy.
Fascinated, he paused and, leaning on the bar, carefully studied the silhouette of the young musician. After a while, however, he realized that he was no longer alone and felt the warmth of a hand on his hip. He didn't even have to turn his head to know who it was. He glanced at Namjoon to return his gaze back to the long-haired musician.
"Bloody hell, he's very strong, huh?" He said, though, he didn't need a confirmation at all.
Jeongguk might look a bit inconspicuous at first glance. He was slim and tall, but underneath his clothes he certainly hid an incredibly athletic body. It was revealed by his strong, black-inked forearms, which he often displayed on stage, but it was also difficult to ignore his strong legs. Even in the black jeans, you could see the outline of chiseled thighs. But he hadn't expected the boy to be that strong.
