Gently, Blaine reached up to touch the back of his head, trying to feel what was there. He had thought the man beside him was asleep—but in a flash, the man’s head shot up. His silver eyes, pupils narrowed to slits, gleamed with the intensity of a predator locking onto its prey, sending a shiver of fear down Blaine’s spine.
“…Bee-Bee.”
The man’s voice was hoarse and fractured, splitting into multiple threads as if torn apart. His pale complexion only added to his ghostlike appearance, as though he’d stayed awake for days on end.
“Bee-Bee, are you conscious?”
“……”
Blaine parted his dry lips to speak, but the moment he tried, an unpleasant screech like fingernails raking across glass made him flinch. As he winced, the man looming over him reached for a cup from the nightstand and brought it to Blaine’s lips.
“Ugh… cough!”
His body still wouldn’t move properly. The water slipped into his windpipe, making him cough violently. Hurel moved the cup away and carefully cupped Blaine’s cheek before pressing a kiss to his lips. A warm tongue moistened his cracked mouth, and sweet sugar water slipped between his lips and into his mouth.
“Do you recognize me? Do you remember what happened?”
In Blaine’s memory, the white spider had always worn a languid smile—soft, slightly dazed, and beautiful. His voice was low, slow, and sweet. This desperate expression on his face now was unfamiliar. Even in his pain and confusion, Blaine felt a ticklish glimmer of hope stir—because it seemed like the thing he feared most hadn’t happened after all.
“Hurel…”
“What the hell were you thinking? Are you out of your mind?”
The spider gripped both of Blaine’s cheeks, not exactly gently, locking eyes with him and speaking in a low, biting tone. A honeybee throwing himself in front of a scorpion’s stinger to protect a tarantula—an insect with a hard exoskeleton and a natural resistance to venom—was laughable. Even a passing beetle would burst out laughing.
It felt like every muscle in Blaine’s body had been paralyzed. Even moving his vocal cords was a struggle, and he winced as he forced out a voice as faint as a breath.
“Still… I’m glad… you’re not hurt…”
“But you’re not okay. Are you trying to die? Is that it?”
Of course not. Blaine had come to realize, through many unintended trials, that he was a honeybee with an extremely strong survival instinct. Even now, he couldn’t quite explain why he had done something so reckless. All he could remember was seeing the scorpion rushing in, stinger raised, and pushing Hurel out of the way before his brain had time to catch up. It hadn’t been a conscious decision.
“I was just so…”
The spider trailed off, as if words had failed him. He let out a deep, trembling sigh, burdened with too many emotions, and pulled Blaine into a tight embrace. Rage—the strongest and sharpest of them—bled through all the rest. After moving Blaine to Shane’s house and medicating him for several days, Hurel had spent those long, unbearable hours just… thinking. Staring at the bee who lay unmoving, as though dead, and wondering what would happen if those eyes never opened again. How much pain he’d been in, how close he’d been to the edge.
“I really thought I’d lose my mind. That you’d never wake up again…”
The embrace was so tight it hurt—like his body might break. But Blaine didn’t push him away. Instead, he barely managed to lift a trembling arm to stroke Hurel’s silken white hair. He wanted to comb through it more, soothe him, but his body refused to obey.
“Hu… rel…”
Even his tongue felt stiff. It was like needles were pricking him from the inside out, sharp and burning beneath his skin. Maybe that’s why the pain Hurel gave him… felt almost welcome. He wished he’d squeeze tighter, so hard it would crush him completely.
“My… throat… it hurts.”
“You brought it on yourself. I don’t even feel sorry for you.”
Hurel’s voice was cold, but his face betrayed him—it overflowed with helpless worry as he inspected the bandages around Blaine’s neck. Even though he’d removed the stinger and applied ointment every morning and night, the dark veins still hadn’t faded.
“…I swear, I could kill you.”
He muttered through gritted teeth, sending a chill through the air. Blaine’s eyes drooped at the words. After all, when he thought Hurel was dead—though it turned out to be just a molting—he’d felt like his heart had been shattered, his mind spinning. He’d raged against everything around him. He understood. But hearing that bitter, ice-edged voice still made his heart ache.
“Don’t… don’t be mad…”
His body ached, and now his heart was fragile too. Blaine whimpered, tears welling in his eyes. I’m this hurt… why are you scolding me instead of comforting me? It was too much. It hurt. It felt like his heart was being ripped in two.
“You’re the one who messed up.”
“I didn’t mess—”
“You did. Who told you to do something that dangerous without thinking?”
Don’t ever do it again. I nearly lost my mind. The spider snapped, voice rough, then pulled Blaine into a suffocating embrace and began biting his lower lip. The cruel affection felt like torture—but at the same time, it felt like love. Blaine shuddered, overcome with fragile bliss.
“Bee-Bee, you said it, didn’t you? That you’d die without me.”
“……”
“Well, without you… I don’t know what I’d do. I might lose it completely. Okay?”
So please, don’t be reckless again. Please… I’m begging you. The spider’s heartbeat, always slower than his, now thudded fast and heavy against their joined bodies.
Just before he closed his eyes, Blaine had been spiraling, his mind overwhelmed with cruel doubts. But now, the fire of that fear was beginning to die out. Even so, a part of him still trembled with uncertainty, and he asked, carefully:
“Then… do you really like me?”
It’s not a lie, right? His voice, thick with tears, was desperate—like someone clinging to a plank of wood in the middle of the sea. Still locked in Hurel’s arms, Blaine gazed up with wide, hopeful eyes.
The spider remained silent for a long time. Then, without a word, he gently released Blaine. The honeybee’s eyes widened, pupils trembling. Hurel took his face between both hands—gentle, but firm—and leaned in so close their lips barely brushed. Blaine’s throat bobbed in a nervous swallow.
“Bee-Bee.”
“……”
“I like you. I like you so much… I want to break you.”
“……”
“I want to cut off your wings, snap your limbs, so you can never run away. That way, no one else will ever see you. And you won’t see anyone else either. You’ll stay mine. Forever.”
Blaine’s body trembled, maybe from fear. But there was no trace of hesitation in Hurel. Even if Blaine screamed no and cried, Hurel would just gag him and tie a rope around his neck and drag him back.
Still… even so… he had never wanted Blaine to see this part of him. Not the eyes Blaine had looked at him with that day—after he’d torn apart the scorpion who tried to kill him—eyes filled with horror, like he was staring at a monster. Hurel had thought it didn’t matter. But realizing that Blaine might see him that way… it made his blood boil in the worst way.
So why? Why had he chosen to reveal this now? Why was he being so—stupidly—honest?
Even if Blaine broke down sobbing in terror, even if he looked at him with disgust, even if he screamed at him to get out… Hurel knew what he’d do. He had already decided. But still, the thought of seeing that expression on Blaine’s face—it felt like his heart would truly break.
Hurel exhaled deeply, from the pit of his lungs, and tightened his grip on Blaine’s face.
“I like you.”
I haven’t said it out loud to you much, but it’s true. He whispered the words.
Blaine stared at him, searching his eyes, as if trying to read his thoughts.
Then, after a long silence, the corners of the honeybee’s mouth trembled. He gave a faint, weary smile and muttered, voice barely a whisper:
“…You bastard.”
A real bastard. I ended up with the worst kind of guy. Blaine laughed weakly, tears beading in his eyes like jewels, spilling down to wet Hurel’s hands.
“You’re so meaaaan…”
“Yeah. I’m sorry.”
But instead of wiping away the tears, the spider leaned down and gently, over and over again, kissed Blaine’s trembling lips—soft, slow, repeated kisses. Over ten… twenty times… more… and more… without stopping.
