“Um, Hurel… why are you mad? Can you tell me? If we make too much noise, other aphids might come swarming over…..”
And then came the next line—which nearly made him burst out laughing. He had to bite his lip to hold it in. How adorable. He was seriously worried about being mobbed by a group of aphids, as if he might get lynched right then and there. This massive honeybee looked like he was about to start stomping his feet in panic. He was clearly concerned about being outnumbered by the countless aphids, far too many for even a full hive of bees to handle.
This cute little bee had a fundamental misunderstanding. The reason Hurel didn’t eat aphids was simple: they tasted bad and didn’t fill him up. That was it. Wiping out an entire colony felt like force-feeding himself bland konjac jelly—tasteless, unsatisfying, and downright unpleasant.
What to do… Hurel lowered the hand that had been lightly stroking the bee’s waist and gave his plump ass a firm squeeze that couldn’t be contained in one palm. He mulled it over. The heat that had boiled up to the top of his head just moments ago now felt like a lie—he was in a fantastic mood.
Maybe he should tie this honeybee up with sticky web in some obscene pose, then lay out a neat row of aphid heads in front of him. Or maybe string together aphid eyeballs like beads and hang them around the bee’s neck, just to watch him have a meltdown. He’d be speechless with horror at first, then burst into tears in the end. That face would be priceless. The thought alone sent a rush of heat down below.
“Huh—huhuhu, oooh, p-police! Poooliiiice—!”
“Ack—no, no, no! Shh, hey, hey, don’t scream, okay?”
“Uuuuugh, I didn’t do anything wrong~ That butterfly’s crazy, waaaah~!”
“B-butterfly?! Ugh, this isn’t the issue! Shhh, quiet! You—you promised me, remember?!”
No, no. After going to such lengths to protect him, it would only be right—be the decent thing—for Hurel to quietly accept the protection and show some gratitude. Even if Hurel didn’t know the first thing about decency as a living creature, he nodded solemnly and calmly regained his composure.
“But that butterfly… he slammed me into the wall and twisted my wrist…”
“He’s just delirious from a fever! You asked me to do this! What if I didn’t help you?! Would you be okay with that?!”
Thankfully, it didn’t seem like the aphid had realized who Hurel really was. Well, it made sense that he mistook Hurel for a butterfly—he was always with Blaine, had dazzling silver hair, and looked unnaturally gorgeous. Convincing him now would be much easier than if he’d known Hurel was a spider. Blaine was desperately pleading and half-threatening as he passionately defended him with a “My friend didn’t mean to bite him!” sort of vibe.
“Ugh… I do care… sniff…”
He’d wanted to see the aphid panic more, but the situation was de-escalating more smoothly than expected. Hurel clicked his tongue inwardly and looked at Blaine, who was completely worn out and yet still managed to smile up at him.
Blaine looked exactly like a mom saying, I trust my son. He must have had a reason for what he did, right? Anyone else would’ve had to laugh in disbelief—but the soft, wobbly smile on his lips wasn’t that kind of laugh at all.
“Hurel, why are you smiling so prettily like you did something right—no, seriously, what’s going on, huh?”
The aphid, who had been puffing himself up with righteous fury, froze mid-sentence, still on the floor. With just one icy glare, Hurel had easily subdued his prey, then leaned in close to Blaine to hide his expression and wrapped his arms around him tight.
“Bee-Bee… Bee-Bee did something wrong.”
“What?”
“Bee-Bee’s my friend… but he just let some aphid touch him, and even hugged him back….”
Blaine almost blurted, Wait, are you seriously suffering from abandonment issues? But he barely swallowed the words in time. Even with his lack of psychology knowledge, he could tell asking something like that outright wasn’t going to help anything.
“Hurel, you’re my closest companion.”
“…Really?”
“Of course.”
Strictly speaking, everyone in the hive was family, and his old buddy Bertie was too creepy to be called “closest,” so technically he wasn’t lying. Besides, if saying that could help heal this poor spider’s glaring issues from lack of affection, he’d say it a hundred times more.
Still, that didn’t mean he could just let it slide. Even if Hurel hadn’t meant to hurt anyone or act violently, the fact remained—he was a predator. And predators had to understand that if they lashed out recklessly, someone could get hurt. He needed to make that crystal clear.
So Blaine put on a solemn face and gently pried Hurel off his shoulder. Then immediately yanked him back in by the back of the head for another hug. Damn it. Why was he crying again with that look on his face?
“Um, ahem… Hurel. No matter how angry you are, you can’t just go tossing creatures like that around, okay? I know you didn’t mean to, but from now on, try to be a bit more careful, yeah?”
“Then Bee-Bee has to promise not to wag his butt at other creatures anymore, too.”
…Huh? Who wagged their butt at who?! Also, wasn’t his voice suddenly cold and precise, unlike the sobbing mess he’d been until just now? Before Blaine could dwell on that, the spider let out another sniffly sob and squeezed his waist like he was going to snap him in half.
“Okay, o-okay, I promise! Just—can’t breathe…!”
“Bee-Bee…!”
“Ack!”
When he turned his head, panting, the aphid was still on the ground, glaring at them with an expression that screamed Are you kidding me right now? Getting that look from a pervy weirdo aphid was… not the most flattering experience. It hurt, honestly.
***
He’d been saddled with the most absurd task, but in exchange, he managed to score a bunch of travel gear and emergency supplies. So Blaine tried hard to brainwash himself into thinking it was a fair trade. Because if he didn’t, he’d have to face the horrible truth that he’d been thoroughly ripped off.
I mean, seriously. There were ants everywhere in the world—how the hell am I supposed to find one specific guy named Anthony or Andrew or whatever?
“Bee-Bee.”
“Huh? What’s wrong? Tired already? We haven’t even gone that far… let’s try to push a bit more, okay?”
Oh, what was he supposed to do with this adorable creature? Despite being huge, the honeybee didn’t have the strength or stamina to match, and spent the entire journey worrying about whether the spider was getting too tired.
“My legs hurt. Can we rest a bit over there in that grass?”
Of course, Hurel had no intention whatsoever of correcting that misconception.
Even though the sun blazed overhead, the shaded grassy patch was cool and dark, thanks to the thick cover of trees and underbrush. Blaine, who’d been hurriedly marching along with growing impatience, must’ve been pretty hot and worn out himself—he let out a long sigh and relaxed in the breeze.
He took off his outerwear and began fanning himself with the collar of his thin shirt. Hurel narrowed his eyes, watching as a transparent bead of sweat trailed down Blaine’s chest, disappearing into the line between his pecs.
He slowly approached.
“Bee-Bee, can I see your wings?”
“What?”
Blaine blinked, pausing mid-fan. Had he heard that right? Even if this spider was all looks and no brains, everyone knew it was rude to ask a flying creature to show their wings without a good reason.
“Hurel, that’s kinda…”
“Is it not allowed? But Bee-Bee said we’re friends. Best friends in the whole world.”
“……”
Why’d he have to go and say something like that? It wasn’t a lie, per se, but it wasn’t meant to be used against him in a moment like this. Blaine’s head was beginning to throb.
“So I can’t, huh…?”
“It’s just…”
“…Never mind. I understand.”
I can show Bee-Bee every part of myself, even my feelers… Hurel mumbled pitifully, looking like the most tragic thing in existence. Blaine was speechless. Why was this guy so emotionally volatile? Also—I don’t want to see your feelers! You don’t need to show me that!
“…Bee-Bee, let’s get going.”
“Wait, Hurel….”
