“Alive…?”
“Bee-Bee, are you okay?”
The hand that caught his own and gently clasped it around his throat was warm—just like always.
Blaine’s dazed eyes, still unable to escape the lingering shock, wandered in confusion… until something completely intact and strangely out of place caught his attention.
Hurel’s leg.
He remembered clearly how it had been charred black, like a lump of coal—so mangled it was impossible to look at without flinching.
“How did…?”
Realizing Blaine was staring blankly at his leg, Hurel’s face momentarily flickered with dismay. But it lasted only a heartbeat before the spider effortlessly curved his lips into a shameless smile.
“I didn’t think molting would heal it this cleanly, not even in my wildest dreams, but somehow…”
A blatant lie—but Hurel’s conscience had long since been worn down to nothing, so it didn’t bother him one bit. His voice, low and lazy, was chillingly pleasant to the ears. The honeybee, who had been frozen in place, unable to comprehend the words even after turning them over and over in his head, suddenly moved stiffly—like a machine springing back to life.
The body in his arms was warm and soft. He hadn’t collapsed from crying too hard and crossed into the afterlife. His living, breathing lover had returned to him. Blaine checked that truth again and again—dozens of times—until the pounding of his heart threatened to burst his eardrums. His fists clenched tight.
And then, without hesitation, he drove a punch straight into the spider’s perfectly smooth, soft cheek.
“–?!”
A dull, heavy crack echoed through the quiet forest—like a massive tree being felled. It wasn’t just an arm swing; he had thrown the full weight of his body into the punch. And yet, all it did was slightly turn the spider’s head. He didn’t even stagger. Hurel cupped his cheek, stunned.
“…-shit.”
“What?”
“…You bastard!”
The venomous curse that spilled from the honeybee’s mouth was so out of character, even Hurel stood speechless. Blaine, tears brimming in his pale blue eyes, glared at him and began pounding his chest with his whitened fists.
“You bastard! You piece of shit!”
“Bee-Bee?”
“How could you lie to me like that?! You deserve divine punishment, you monster!”
His rough hands smacked against the spider’s solid exoskeleton, doing no actual harm. But Blaine didn’t stop. Hurel let him hit him—because honestly, it didn’t hurt and, more importantly, they needed to get through this first.
“I was so worried… and you didn’t say a word… You just played with me… Hrrgh…!”
“That is, well… I didn’t know my leg would actually heal—”
“Don’t give me that crap, you bastard!”
Crap? Bastard?! Harsh! Just because one little bee was upset—still, the spider with no sense of guilt to speak of simply frowned. He hadn’t lied, per se. He just hadn’t told the truth.
“I thought you were dead—hic! I really thought you were—ghk!”
“Why would I be dead?”
“YOU—!! Hnggh…!”
The honeybee suddenly screamed, then broke into sobs, his face flushing crimson. You haven’t been eating, you’ve had no energy, and then you just disappeared—and your legs, they were gone… His voice hiccuped and cracked between sobs, words spilling out in disjointed fragments that, when pieced together, painted a messy picture of sheer panic.
“And why am I the one getting blamed for your misunderstanding…?”
“Hrrgh… if you’d just told me your leg would heal! If you’d just said something! Hrrnngh…!”
Blaine coughed wetly, his punches growing wider and more frenzied. Hurel simply stood there and let him vent. The honeybee looked like he was about to break into a funeral wail. His hands slapped at Hurel’s chest, his sides, anywhere he could reach. They’d probably bruise by morning, but… whatever.
“You could’ve just told me… If you vanish like that, I’ll think you’re dead, you jerk—waaaah!”
And then, like liquid pearls, thick teardrops as big as Blaine’s irises rolled down his chin and dripped to the ground. As Hurel quietly stared at those beautiful, translucent tears, he pulled the honeybee into his arms with unexpected strength. Blaine had no energy left to resist. Hurel had always been strong, but it felt like he’d become even stronger. Against that power, Blaine’s legs gave out—and whether he liked it or not, he ended up pressed tightly into the spider’s embrace.
“Bee-Bee.”
“…I didn’t know you were such a complete… sniffle… snrrk… bastard…”
The spider gently brushed one of those endless tears away with his index finger. His lips curved into a soft smile—rare and elegant, like a brushstroke in a painting. The moment Blaine saw that smile, all his rage melted into a stunned silence.
That smile blurred out everything else, slowing down time itself. And then, the spider murmured in a drowsy whisper.
“You really do love me, don’t you?”
Blaine’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. He was speechless.
“Hahaha.”
A strange laugh. Hurel barely moved his lips—just a faint pull at the corners. But the glee in it, the sheer thrill, was unlike anything Blaine had ever sensed from him before. His grey—not silver—eyes glinted sharply. That smile was undeniably beautiful… and utterly deranged.
“Aah… I really…”
…want to devour you from head to toe.
Blaine probably didn’t hear the low, guttural growl muttered under his breath. But whether it was instinct or fear, the honeybee trembled in his arms.
The spider’s cheek, pink where Blaine had punched it, now glowed like it had been kissed by rosewater. The flush made him even more striking—almost seductive.
“Hani, I’m still—still mad…”
“I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.”
Who the hell apologizes in a voice and face like that?! It was less of an apology and more of a threat to rip him apart.
“I’ll be good to you, Bee-Bee.”
“That’s…”
The honeyed words didn’t match that growling tone at all. Blaine, still scowling, suddenly went pale as an icy realization hit him.
That rock-solid arm and shoulder he’d been punching? It wasn’t just his imagination. He was harder than before. He’d molted—and that meant the spider had gotten even stronger.
Even stronger than before?!
The future wasn’t looking very peaceful.
***
Blaine hadn’t wanted to let this slide so easily. With an expression cold enough to freeze over summer, he shoved away the spider’s warm hands in defiance. But his attempt to flee was abruptly thwarted—he was hoisted into the air with a single hand before he could blink. Speechless, he dangled helplessly.
“W-Where do you think you’re going?! Put me down!”
“Will you be okay, Bee-Bee? You’ll have to scream a lot. What if someone hears you?”
That line—why did it make something in him tingle with expectation instead of fear or fury? Blaine shook his head vigorously, trying to drive the thought away. But, as always, desire drowned reason like a tidal wave.
“Hani, I said stop messing around! I’m still mad at you!”
“Yeah. That’s why I’ll make it up to you.”
Wait, what does that mean—?!
Blaine panicked and tried to shove him away, but before he could, the spider moved with practiced ease—tilting his head, catching Blaine’s lips in his, and drawing him into a kiss.
“This won’t… won’t fix anything, ngh… ah…!”
Blaine hadn’t wanted to be the easy bee.
He had sworn that this time, he’d push back hard.
And yet, his arms wrapped tightly around Hurel’s strong neck, and his tongue eagerly tangled with his lover’s. The resolve he’d so fiercely clung to dissolved like sugar in tea. The soft, wet sensation of their tongues rubbing, sliding—the ticklish friction sent waves of stimulation that he simply couldn’t stop.
