“That’s not gonna happen, Bee-Bee.”
“Ugh, Hurel…”
The next moment, the honeybee clutched the spider’s shoulder with a sudden, intense grip. Startled by the unrestrained pressure digging into his shoulder, Hurel’s brow twitched slightly—then his eyes flew wide open.
“Hu… Ah, ah, ah…!”
“Bee-Bee?”
As the honeybee clung to his shoulder, legs trembling uncontrollably, his knees buckled. Hurel barely managed to catch him before he collapsed completely, looking genuinely shocked—a rare expression for him. As he supported Blaine’s waist and pulled him close, he saw those blue eyes, wet with tears and glazed over in a daze. Blaine’s lips parted, and the words that slipped out were laced with a pitiful sigh.
“Ugh, sorry… my legs just gave out… ahh…”
His flushed face tear-streaked and his legs wobbling beneath him, the honeybee tried to brace himself—but the spider stopped him, gently pushing him down onto the bed. Blaine collapsed weakly, lying flat, panting heavily. Sniffling, he turned his damp gaze toward Hurel.
“Why… why is this happening? My body… it won’t move.”
“……”
“Hurel, ngh… are you… mad at me…? Hic…”
What kind of creature would be happy seeing the one they like throwing themselves at another just because that someone staggered a little? No matter how you looked at it, it was a ridiculous reason—but Hurel had already convinced himself it was completely valid. With that warped logic in mind, the spider grabbed one of Blaine’s broad shoulders and pressed him to lie flat, then straddled him.
“You were paying more attention to that aphid than to me, Bee-Bee. You were even sweeter to him.”
“What?”
Even in the haze of heat and disorientation clouding his mind, Blaine found himself dumbfounded. He looked up at the spider, whose expression was already crumpled with despair, as if he’d burst into tears any second. Blaine exhaled raggedly, trying to calm down.
“I never did that, Hurel.”
“…Really?”
“Yeah.”
Wait… is he suffering from affection deprivation? Blaine recalled how Hurel always mentioned being alone, how he said Blaine was his first friend. Is that actually true? If that’s the case… if he’s really just inexperienced with relationships… then maybe all this irrational behavior kind of makes sense.
The fact that he could even consider understanding it meant Blaine had already strayed far, far from normal—but he had no idea. As the warm body nestled softly into his chest, Blaine wrapped his arms around him, embracing him tightly.
“So that’s why you’ve been upset since earlier?”
“……”
“You’re such a kid sometimes.”
Apparently not liking being treated like a child, the spider glared up at him with a sulky pout. His puffed-up cheeks were pressed against Blaine’s chest, squished like a steamed bun—it was absurdly cute.
“Feeling better now? You should get some rest. I need a shower.”
He’d been cold before, but now his whole body burned. The sudden shifts in body temperature were starting to feel suspicious. Am I getting sick? But he felt fine otherwise, which only confused him more. Still, unable to handle the heat any longer, Blaine forced himself to stand up, legs trembling as he stumbled toward the shower.
Hurel watched his retreating back with a strange expression.
“…This is troublesome.”
There had never once been a time when he failed to get what he set out for. No matter the interference, things had to go according to plan. And truthfully, there wasn’t much in this world capable of getting in his way. If he wanted something, he’d take it. If he didn’t like it, he’d destroy it.
But ever since he met that massive honeybee, nothing had gone as planned. His feelings changed a dozen times a day, and even when angry, he’d cool down in an instant.
“Ha… I really must be insane.”
He ran his fingers over the corners of his lips, which had curled into a smile without him realizing. A sarcastic laugh escaped him. But it couldn’t be helped. This situation was just too amusing not to laugh at. Giving up completely, the spider let out a giddy, satisfied chuckle.
To think just cornering him a little would make him that adorably flustered… That honeybee must’ve been born with a slight masochistic streak.
After all, what kind of creature got excited from fear unless they had that kind of tendency? The more he learned about him, the naughtier he seemed. Looks like I’ll have to punish him properly later.
***
“Hurel, come sit! The food’s here.”
“You must be hungry, right?” Blaine flashed a bright, friendly smile and patted the seat next to him. But then his face stiffened, and he awkwardly scooted over with the grace of a rusted tin man to make more room for Hurel.
“You should’ve started without me if you were hungry.”
Towel-drying his hair, the spider plopped down right next to Blaine. Droplets of water slid from his still-damp white hair, tracing the line of his neck. His skin, normally milky white, was slightly flushed from the shower, and the floral scent of his shampoo mixed with Hurel’s deeper natural scent.
Since their clothes were being washed, he was dressed in a bathrobe just like Blaine—only Hurel wore his far too well, making it impossible to look at him directly.
How can someone that pale have muscles that defined? Blaine stared in stunned disbelief. Peeking at the spider’s fair skin peeking through the gaps in the robe, he suddenly locked eyes with a pair of curious silver pupils and jerked his head away, flustered. His face flushed red-hot, and even his ears burned.
“Not eating, Bee-Bee?”
“Eating! Yeah, let’s eat!”
Blaine scrambled to pick up a spoon, scooping up some stir-fried noodles. His face was now beet red as he fumbled to switch to chopsticks instead. He started awkwardly shoveling noodles into his mouth using the blunt ends.
“Bee-Bee, are you bad with chopsticks?”
“Uhh… yeah.”
He wasn’t. Blaine could pick up sesame seeds and even rice grains with chopsticks. But admitting to it now would just make things worse, so he played along and nodded.
“Huhu, seriously… I can’t leave you alone.”
With a soft chuckle, Hurel gently took the chopsticks from Blaine’s rough hands and skillfully picked up some noodles, bringing them to his mouth.
“I-it’s fine, really…”
“It’s just frustrating to watch. And it’s a waste of good food. Come on, say ah~”
Well, it was too late now to admit he’d been lying about the chopsticks. Blaine had walked himself right into this. Resigned to his fate, he gave in. In the past, he would’ve felt too awkward to go along with it, but after living with Hurel for a while, things like this had become strangely natural. So, after a small hesitation, he opened his mouth and accepted the food.
“Does it taste good?”
“…It’s okay.”
He almost said it was delicious, but caught himself just in time and downplayed it. He even tried to make a displeased face. Considering what had happened earlier, it wouldn’t be surprising if Hurel got teary-eyed again and asked whether Blaine liked this more than his own cooking. The spider was sweet but a little sensitive—so Blaine figured he’d better tread carefully.
Have I gotten more tactful… or just more pathetic? he wondered.
“Don’t like it? But Bee-Bee needs to eat a lot to maintain that body—I mean, to stay strong and healthy! This is serious. I’ll go straight to the kitchen and demand an explanation!”
“Uhh, what? No, no, don’t do that!”
How am I supposed to keep up with this rhythm? Blaine was exhausted and a little heartbroken. Flustered, he grabbed Hurel’s sleeve and barely managed to get him to sit back down at the table.
“L-let’s try this one too! It looks unique! Bet it tastes good!”
The next dish looked like an upside-down cup—semi-transparent and pale pink, firm enough that he had to press down with his spoon just to cut into it. It had the jiggly, springy texture of jelly or pudding. Every time he tried to crush it with his teeth, it darted around his mouth.
“Hmm… it’s sweet.”
“Of course. It’s probably pudding made from aphid honeydew.”
“Urm… pffft! Puhk!”
