Of course, Blaine had no idea that Hurel was deliberately putting on a cutesy, clingy act. So when Hurel urged him sweetly to hurry up and try the hammock, he didn’t hesitate and stepped right in.
“Ooh—”
The hammock was surprisingly cozy and soft. Considering they were camping out in the wild, it seemed like a comfortable way to spend the night. Even if the weather was warming up, the chill from the ground below was still unpleasant, so this was definitely better.
As Blaine lay back and relaxed, his whole body melting into the gentle embrace of the hammock, something suddenly pressed down on him from above.
“Gck—what the—ugh, heavy…!”
The hammock swayed wildly in the air as something dense and hard—like a body covered in skin, muscle, and bone—plopped on top of him, pinning him down in various places. With his waist and hips now under serious pressure, Blaine gasped for breath, struggling to figure out what was happening.
“H-Hurel… You’re too close… I can’t breathe…”
“Sorry. But it’s narrow… I feel like I’ll fall if I don’t stay this close.”
“Okay, but why are you even in here? Can’t you just go to your own hammock?”
The spider, who had his arms tightly wrapped around Blaine’s waist and his face pressed right against his chest, looked apologetic.
“Well… I didn’t have enough silk to make a second one…”
Ah. After hearing that, Blaine could’ve sworn Hurel’s already pale skin had turned even whiter. He’d heard that spiders die from exhaustion if they use up all their silk. Had Hurel pushed himself too hard? The thought made Blaine’s heart sink like a rock. Why wouldn’t he say something instead of pushing himself to that extent?
“It’s cramped and uncomfortable, right? Bee-Bee’s suffering like this because of me…”
“What are you talking about?! It’s not uncomfortable at all! It’s super cozy and warm! And it’ll get cold at night, so it’s good we’re sharing warmth!”
A wave of affection and worry crashed over him as Blaine frowned and pulled Hurel into a tight hug. He gently stroked his silky hair, which shimmered under the moonlight, and Hurel smiled faintly, burrowing deeper into Blaine’s chest.
“Are you really okay?”
“Yeah, I’m telling you, I’m fine. See? Now that we’re snuggled up like this, you don’t have to worry about falling out. You’re not hurt or anything, right?”
“I love this. It’s warm and soft… I think I’ll be able to sleep really well.”
His whisper, just slightly louder than his breathing, was so faint it almost disappeared. Come to think of it, he had mentioned that he had trouble sleeping. Feeling a little sorry, Blaine didn’t have the heart to complain—even as Hurel hugged him tight enough to crush his ribs and buried his nose right in Blaine’s chest.
“Sleep well, Bee-Bee.”
…Okay, that part, maybe he could complain about. After murmuring that sweet goodnight, Hurel gave him a gentle mwah right on the lips, then casually slid his hand under Blaine’s shirt, no hesitation whatsoever. His touch wasn’t unfamiliar anymore; the confident way he splayed his palm over Blaine’s chest made the honeybee stiffen. And yet, when he saw that beautiful face breathing softly, lips slightly parted as if already fast asleep, Blaine could only let out a deep sigh.
Yeah, yeah. Sleep tight.
***
“Hurel, are you alright? Looks like you didn’t sleep well.”
“I’m fine, Bee-Bee.”
He didn’t look fine at all. Blaine watched the spider—who was pale as a sheet and giving him a weak smile—with worry in his eyes. Why was a predator at the top of the food chain so damn fragile? He should’ve had some herbal tonics as a kid or something. No wonder sketchy perverts kept trying to take advantage of him—like that bastard Goldeny, for example.
Maybe they should stop and rest for a bit. Blaine glanced around for a good spot, scanning the surroundings—and something about the path felt… familiar. Had he walked through here before? Tilting his head, he caught sight of a bizarrely twisted tree up ahead and finally remembered.
Oh, right. The Amil Hive was just past here. Last time, he’d been collecting nectar in the Salvia Flower Field and ended up getting into unexpected trouble. Not the fondest memory, sure—but thinking about it from the bees’ side, they were probably just as freaked out by him.
Should he stop by and say hi, at least? Maybe he could score a cup of refreshing honey tea if he got lucky. Supporting Hurel—who looked utterly exhausted, and for some reason kept groping his chest every time he put his arm around his shoulder—Blaine mulled it over. But barging in unannounced might be rude…
So, lost in thought as he passed through a narrow alley, he didn’t notice the figure coming from the opposite direction.
Thud!
“Ugh—! I’m so sorry! Are you alri—”
The creature had slammed straight into Blaine’s rock-solid chest and stumbled back. Blaine was just about to ask if he was okay when the man collapsed to the ground with a soft thud.
…Huh?
“Bee-Bee, you’re amazing. You took him out with a single body slam.”
“…What? Took him out? N-no! No, wait, this is a misunderstanding!”
“It’s fine. No witnesses, anyway.”
“Wh-what kind of terrifying thing are you saying?! I didn’t do anything!!”
***
Of course, even if someone was a total stranger, seeing them collapsed like that would make any decent creature hope they woke up. But since Blaine was now basically a suspect for assault and battery resulting in unconsciousness, all he could do was sweat bullets and pray the guy came to.
So when the pale, almost corpse-like man finally coughed weakly and began to stir, Blaine nearly cheered with relief.
“Thank goodness! Hey, are you okay? Can you sit up?”
“Ah… uh… Where… am I…?”
The man sat up slowly, clearly sickly and weak. Blaine rushed to his side and helped support his upper body.
“W-water… please… I need water…”
“Oh, water? Here! Drink this!”
The man lunged desperately for Blaine’s water bottle and drank like his life depended on it, gulping it down without even stopping to breathe. The bottle had already been running low, and now it was bone dry. But Blaine forced himself not to feel bad—what kind of creature would he be if he begrudged a dying man a drink?
Even after finishing the water, the man gasped for breath, looking like he’d barely survived. Blaine, meanwhile, wore a relieved expression, like someone just proven innocent after a false accusation. He’d really thought he was about to become a literal killer bee.
Bit by bit, color returned to the man’s ghostly face. Catching his breath, he adjusted his posture.
“Thank you… for saving me. I don’t know how I can ever repay you…”
“Huh? Oh—no, it’s fine, really—”
But in that fleeting moment, Blaine’s brain kicked into overdrive.
Thank you for saving me? That line didn’t quite fit the situation, did it? Blaine didn’t think this guy looked like someone who just suffered blunt-force trauma from slamming into a honeybee’s chest. More like he had been on the brink of death long before the collision.
In that instant, Blaine grasped the situation—and his guilt lifted. He straightened his back with a sense of relief. So this guy hadn’t passed out because of him. He was innocent. He could go back to living as a law-abiding honeybee. What a joy.
“Whew… that could’ve gone really badly.”
Now that he could even joke about it, Blaine took a good look at the stranger. The man had soft, leaf-green hair and was wrapped in clothes made of fine, though modest, fabric. He was messy, with dirt smudged all over, but looking closer—his features were kind of cute.
Hurel’s charm came from his half-lidded eyes and small, sharp jaw, giving him a dangerous, seductive beauty. But this guy? Everything was round. Big round eyes, a soft round nose, a chubby round face—cute in a harmless way.
Blaine didn’t want to judge anyone based solely on appearance—he’d learned better—but this man practically screamed prey. There was no way a creature that innocent-looking was a predator.
Just as he thought that, he felt the warmth of Hurel’s body pressed close to his side, and he flinched. Then immediately scolded himself. You already got burned once—don’t be stupid again.
“Um… what’s your name, if you don’t mind me asking? And… well… forgive me for asking, but…”
Asking not just someone’s name but also what they were counted as a serious breach of etiquette among insects. Unless the other person brought it up first, you weren’t supposed to ask about their species—at least not unless you were very close.
Blaine suddenly recalled something Bertie had once rambled about when he was drunk on fermented honey. According to him, the reason behind that weird taboo was all part of a dark conspiracy. Supposedly, it had started with predators wanting to blend in and get close to prey without being discovered. Blaine had chewed sunflower seeds and tuned out half the drunken nonsense, but… maybe Bertie had a point.
Surely prey creatures weren’t that naive… right?
