It was absolutely a building one could puff their chest out and brag about. The aphids’ hotel, which required descending more than twenty floors underground, was just as magnificent inside as its extravagant main entrance suggested. Walking down the dazzling corridor paved in pristine white marble, one would find countless rooms lined up around what seemed to be a central lounge they used as a common resting area. Tapping a card by a calming, peaceful green door and stepping inside revealed a large bed big enough for two to sleep comfortably, antique-style furniture, and bright but gentle lighting that spared the eyes.
Blaine, completely mesmerized, wandered around with a bewitched expression, letting out one gasp of admiration after another. It couldn’t be helped—compared to the honeybees’ living quarters, which consisted of thin wooden doors with no soundproofing, beds so narrow you could hardly move, and rooms that became cramped the moment you put in a small table and a wardrobe, the contrast was overwhelming. Especially for a big-bodied bee like Blaine, he had never once in his life been able to stretch his legs out fully and sleep comfortably in his own room.
“Guess it’s because ants built it. It really is amazing.”
At Blaine’s compliment, a sudden shadow crossed the aphid’s face. Jin, who until moments ago had been nodding so hard his head might fall off with a smug smile, looked as though rain might start pouring at any second. He half-heartedly agreed, his tone deflated. The shift was so abrupt Blaine couldn’t adjust—how had something that felt like warm sunlight suddenly turned so lifeless?
“What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?”
“No, nothing like that. It’s just… when you mentioned ants, it reminded me of a problem I’d forgotten about…”
What kind of problem was serious enough to drain the color from his face like that? Blaine looked at Jin D with concern—and then suddenly felt the temperature around them drop. What was this? Is the heating broken in here? For some reason, the air around the spider beside him felt especially cold.
“Actually… for the past few days, even the ants have stopped coming.”
“Is that… because of the famine?”
“I don’t know the exact reason. But one thing’s clear—this is a really big problem. A very serious one.”
No doubt about it. Blaine wasn’t directly affected, but he could guess well enough. Aphids and ants shared a symbiotic relationship—though depending on how you put it, it could just as easily be called a husbandry relationship. Without ants, there’d be no one to protect the aphids from their natural predators. Aphids were extremely vulnerable when threatened. Famine was bad enough, but losing the ants’ protection was a matter of life and death. If anything, it might be even more fatal.
“That’s terrible. Still, you can’t just sit around doing nothing—you’ll have to come up with countermeasures. Build barricades at the entrance, dig traps—”
“Ngh, those are secondary issues! The serious problem I’m talking about is something else entirely!”
Something more serious than that? Blaine couldn’t even imagine what it might be. Is this really going to be okay? When he looked at Jin with deep concern, the aphid clenched his small fist tightly and let out a sobbing cry.
“My assigned ant, Mr. Anthony, hasn’t come for days already! My back itches so badly I can’t even sleep at night!”
“…Huh? Your back… what?”
“Sniff… Mr. Anthony used to lick my underside at least once every three days, no matter how busy he was. At this rate my body’s going to dry up and I’ll die! Huuuugh!”
Emotions overflowing at last, the aphid burst into tears—but Blaine had no mental capacity left to comfort him. He was too busy doubting his own ears.
“Hic… sniff… Mr. Anthony… where did you go? Without you—without that gentle, soft, squishy, moist, smooth, yet powerful tongue of yours conquering my backside—I can’t… I caaaan’t…! Nghk!”
What did I just hear? Blaine, once a sturdy, tan honeybee, had turned into a slightly gray-tinged white marble statue, just moments away from crumbling into stone dust.
“Hhk… sniff… Blaaaiiine, what do I do? Am I… am I going to die writhing in agony like this, never getting my back licked ever again? That’s not what’s going to happen, right? Right?! Hic!”
“……”
As the aphid collapsed to the floor, wailing in grief, Blaine simply stared blankly at him. This time, he couldn’t even manage a polite response. He just stood there and thought: This guy is seriously messed up too.
***
“If you go up to the lobby, there’s a restaurant. What do you want to do? Want to look around, or should I bring some food here?”
Unlike his earlier easygoing attitude, Blaine now found himself acting awkwardly around Jin for reasons he couldn’t fully articulate. Hesitantly stepping back, he asked for the food to be brought to the room. It wasn’t that he wasn’t curious about how luxurious the restaurant might be—but he figured nothing good would come from running into other aphids. And now that he knew the truth about the ants who built the hotel, he didn’t particularly feel like sightseeing anymore.
Sure—he knew from books that ants absolutely loved the honeydew secreted from aphids’ bodies, loved it to the point of obsession. But he had never known how exactly that honeydew was consumed. To think—to think that harvesting honeydew meant putting their mouths right up against them and licking it directly…!
“L-let’s just rest until the food gets here. Ah—do you want to wash up first?”
Desperate to stop thinking about this absurd and shocking revelation, Blaine hurriedly tried to redirect his thoughts. With his mind exhausted, his tone softened naturally, and he gently offered Hurel the bathroom first—but no answer came.
Come to think of it, Hurel had been acting strange for a while now. Just as Blaine was about to finally ask what was wrong, he froze at the sharp gaze directed at him—and the even sharper voice that followed.
“Bee-Bee, are you always that kind to just anyone?”
“Huh?”
Tilting his head, Blaine scratched his cheek, wondering what kind of oddly timed compliment this was. He’d never thought of himself as particularly kind. Though… he did have a habit of going strangely soft on Hurel in ways even he didn’t understand. Maybe Hurel saw that as kindness. Blaine chuckled awkwardly, about to wave it off—but his words slammed into a wall of cold sound.
“Do you always try to save just anyone like that?”
“Huh?”
“Do you treat everyone the same way?”
The words sounded like praise, but the voice was icy—no, worse. It was angry. Only then did Blaine realize something was wrong. This wasn’t a situation where you denied a compliment and said thanks. The atmosphere felt like he was being reprimanded.
Why were so many confusing things happening today?
“I asked you something. Answer me.”
He didn’t understand the intent behind the question at all. What—was he supposed to abandon someone who was dying and pretend he didn’t see anything? Blaine found himself pressed flat against the wall, trapped within Hurel’s arms, shrinking back as if he could melt into the stone. His throat bobbed with a nervous swallow.
“Bee-Bee.”
“Ghk…?”
Hurel closed in slowly, their faces drawing so near their lips might brush. Goosebumps rippled violently from Blaine’s head to his toes; every muscle in his body locked up. Cold sweat seeped out. This was instinctive fear. His body trembled so faintly it’d be hard to notice, and fear filled his pale blue eyes. Blaine bit his lip anxiously, retreating uselessly backward.
Even as that unknown terror consumed him, the unsettling coldness of the spider’s beautiful face—the sharp eyes blended with seductive allure, the gaze that seemed to pierce straight through him, the faintly upturned, provocative mouth, the suffocatingly strong, spicy scent—stirred something else entirely.
“Uh—uhm…”
“Say it. Would you do the same for other guys too? Hm?”
As the spider’s hand approached slowly, Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered. Srrrk—Hurel’s fingers gently threaded through his yellow-brown hair. Warm breath carrying a fragrant woody smell brushed teasingly against his lips.
His breathing grew ragged. This heavy air—he’d felt this before. The helplessness of being utterly restrained, unable to move a finger, yet with a strange, aching anticipation tightening his chest… He’d felt it somewhere. Somewhere for sure—
“Why can’t you answer? Ahh, are you already scheming to go to someone else?”
Ah. That was it. He remembered.
The first time he’d seen him—bound tight in spider silk, waiting helplessly for death—the sensation was exactly the same. Even without anything physically restraining him now, Blaine couldn’t move. Fingers that had been stroking his hair slowly drifted down along his jawline, then lightly closed around the nape of his neck. A soft chhk sound followed as tender, pliant flesh brushed against his cheek near his lips—again and again, slow and gentle.
Fear and feather-light touches blended together into something indescribable, washing through Blaine’s mind and leaving it devastatingly, blindingly white.
