“Don’t just stand there—have a seat! It’s a tight space, but since you came all the way here, the least I can do is serve you some honey tea!”
“Thanks, Pansy. I should’ve let you know ahead of time… I didn’t mean to trouble you.”
“Oh, stop it, Blaine! This is us we’re talking about!”
Even at those words that flaunted their closeness, the spider sat at the table with a serene, almost innocent smile, quietly tapping his fingers in rhythm.
Blaine, who had instinctively started to head into the kitchen to help Panthiana—his body moving out of habit—paused, then instead slipped into the seat next to Hurel. He gently took hold of the pale hand that had been tapping the table.
Stroking the soft warmth of that hand, Blaine cautiously studied Hurel’s expression. When their eyes met, Hurel gave him a soft smile—so tender it made Blaine’s heart ache with affection. And yet, somehow, it didn’t give him chills the way it usually did.
Spiders really are incomprehensible beings, Blaine thought, committing the sin of generalization, even as he silently enjoyed the ticklish sensation of Hurel’s fingertip lightly tracing the lines on his palm.
“I don’t know what happened while you were away, but thank goodness you’re okay!”
Thank goodness? Was this really the time to be hearing that? Blaine, dumbfounded, lowered the teacup he’d been about to sip and stared at Panthiana in silence.
“You haven’t heard yet? While you were away from Akansia, Necta Hive got attacked by wasps!”
He was stunned by her casual tone, like she was saying ‘Oh, you didn’t eat dinner yesterday!’ Blaine couldn’t help but wonder if he was being tricked somehow.
“…I just stopped by there, actually. On the way here.”
“Huh? There’s nothing left to see though, right?”
“……”
The honeybee’s face flushed red, and he didn’t know where to look. The rhinoceros beetle began to fidget in a panic, while the spider silently wished he’d cry already.
“Anyway, it’s a relief! Sure, losing your home is rough, but hey, at least you’re alive—”
Right. Butterflies were, to put it nicely, more independent than honeybees. Maybe to her, surviving was more important than mourning the loss of a colony. If she’d acted overly sympathetic, it might’ve made him even more emotional. Blaine resolved to stay strong.
“It’s not just Akansia—wasp attacks are happening everywhere all at once. Hives are the main targets, but lots of butterflies have gone missing too. Even among friends, we’ve all agreed to limit outdoor activity as much as possible.”
Now that she mentioned it… Blaine remembered his hometown as vibrant and full of life, but the area had been eerily quiet during his journey here, as if something had sucked all the energy out of the land.
The dread he’d been holding back slowly began to rise again. And one more thing had been bothering him from the start—
“What about Bertie?”
“That piece of trash?! Useless scumbag isn’t even worth a stray dog’s bite! One of these days he’s gonna drink himself to death—good riddance!”
“Uh…”
Bad timing, clearly. Blaine backed away, antennae metaphorically twitching, as the butterfly exploded into a stream of furious, unintelligible profanity.
“What the hell are the wasps doing anyway?! Why can’t they snatch him up instead of bothering innocent creatures?”
“Pansy! You can’t say things like that!”
Blaine raised his voice—something he rarely did—and Panthiana immediately deflated, her lips jutting out in a pout.
“He started it! It’s not my fault!”
“Started what?”
“That bastard came home at dawn after drinking all night, and I was waiting for him, all ready with our babies!”
Blaine froze.
“He said he was late because he almost got kidnapped by wasps. WASPS, Blaine! Can you believe that crap?”
“What?”
Panthiana’s old side gig was carpentry. So “babies” referred to her saws, chisels, hammers, and pry bars. Blaine could understand why Bertie might make up excuses to avoid that scene—but this wasn’t something that could be brushed off as drunken nonsense.
“If he’s gonna drink, fine—but drink like a normal person! Kidnapped by wasps?! What is he, a princess in a fairytale? What kind of dumbass story is that? They’re not some kind of secret ant kidnap squad! The second they grab you, you’re dead. If he wants to lie, at least make it believable!”
“Kidnapped… Wait, hold on…”
“Oh, and get this—he says he saw a wasp carting something off, and from under the sack, he swears he saw a honeybee’s stinger sticking out! The nerve of that scammer. Either that, or he was hallucinating from drinking something worse than booze.”
Blaine’s hands were shaking too much to keep holding his cup. He barely managed to push himself up from the chair when a soft pressure at his waist helped steady him—Hurel, elegantly sipping his tea, now gently supporting him.
“Pansy! Where’s Bertie right now?!”
“Jeez, what’s with the yelling? I don’t know! He’s probably off drinking somewhere again!”
That drunk bastard. Next time he shows his face, I swear I’ll break his legs.
The butterfly muttered threats through clenched teeth, eyes flashing, while the snow-white spider beside her remained silent and expressionless. Watching the two side by side, the rhinoceros beetle began to wonder if all good-looking creatures had terrifying personalities.
“I think I really need to talk to Bertie. Pansy, would you mind if we waited a bit?”
“Uh, sure… Here? I mean, do you want to play a card game or something?”
Come to think of it, Blaine realized the shortness of breath he’d been feeling wasn’t just in his head. Three fully grown males squeezed into a butterfly-sized home—it was no wonder the place felt suffocating.
“Then we’ll camp out nearby. But if Bertie comes back, please let me know right away. I don’t care if you beat the crap out of him, just make sure he’s still able to talk!”
“Sorry, Blaine. If only the house were a bit bigger…”
In truth, it wasn’t that small for a slim butterfly. But Panthiana, who clearly lacked any concept of personal space, had practically moved in after helping clean and repair the place with her old carpentry skills—making it a semi-cohabitation.
As Blaine mentally pieced it together, the same thought crossed his mind as always when he looked at those two: Why hasn’t she dumped him already?
“Nah, the tea and snacks were more than enough. And honestly, it’s just not right for three guys to crowd in here.”
“Then at least let me pack you some sandwiches for dinner!”
Blaine didn’t refuse her kindness. With Panthiana’s skills, the food was guaranteed to be good. He figured he’d bring back some forest fruits or something as a thank-you when they returned.
As they were about to leave, Panthiana rushed up, threw her arms around Blaine, and kissed both his cheeks. He froze as if struck by lightning, but—even then—the spider said nothing.
***
They found a decent campsite, shared the sandwiches, and ate a late dinner. Leaning against the base of a tree, watching the sky slowly turn a soft lavender, the calm was broken by a low, sticky whisper.
“Bee-bee~”
Oh no, here we go. Blaine squeezed his eyes shut, already bracing for Hurel’s latest “mood.” He was already tired, and now he’d have to deal with the spider’s dramatics too? As he felt a familiar weight settle onto his body, he cracked one eye open to peek.
Instead of a tearful expression, all he saw was that snow-white hair spilling across his face.
Hurel had nestled his face between Blaine’s pecs, gently nuzzling into the hollow of his chest as he murmured in a drowsy voice, “Aren’t you tired?”
It was the same soft, sweet tone—tender, spoiled, and oddly soothing.
Seriously… why does he seem totally fine?
Of course, it was good if he’d finally overcome his emotional neediness. But as Blaine lifted his head to look at him, his eyes instead caught the sight of his own exposed chest—completely bare, the front of his clothes loosened without him noticing.
“Hurel, why do you keep taking my clothes off?!”
“Because it’s uncomfortable to sleep all wrapped up. It’s bad for your health.”
“I’m not looking to become known as the local streaking honeybee!”
“There’s no one else around. Who are you worried about?”
“Gen—General is…”
“The beetle won’t come near us,” Hurel replied flatly, ignoring Blaine’s protests like a mosquito buzzing past his ear. His pale fingers played idly with one of Blaine’s exposed nipples.
“That… what do you call it, uh, patrol. I sent him on patrol.”
“Patrol?”
“Mm-hmm. Things have been pretty sketchy around here lately, haven’t they?”
