Cold Blooded - 1. Cold Blooded

“He’s cute.”

“Cute? Did you seriously just describe a human as cute?”

“But he is-!”

“Oh, brother.” The heavy, slithering noise comes again, and when the voice speaks, its closer, softer. “You don’t even know that it’s male. I suppose it is kind of… nice looking. For a human. But so dainty.”

Something cold and firm, but not hard, brushes against Keith’s knuckles.

“Huh.”

“Kuron? What is it?” The other voice, the lighter one, is full of instant concern.

“It’s warm. Here, touch.”

A hand, a hand too cold to be something living and breathing, lands on his forearm. The shock is enough to propel Keith from woozy, semi-consciousness into fully coherent fight or flight. He scrambles up and away, hand already reaching for his knife at his belt, eyes taking in every detail of the canyon he can. And then his brain gets the message his eyes are sending him, his foot lands wrong on what he assumes is a stray rock, and his ankle turns. Keith is not proud of the pained yelp which escapes his throat, but he doesn’t let go of the knife. He blinks, but the vision doesn’t change.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck.” It’s not even a question, because Keith’s mind is already reeling back to long hours of reading science fiction and fantasy books with plain covers in the school library, and he knows exactly what the two creatures on the other side of the canyon are. “Nagas.”

“He knows us!” The excited words from one of the creature’s end with a happy hiss, and Keith stares as the naga flows forward into a shaft of bright sunlight.

A naga, a thing of fiction. A beast half man and half enormous snake, a creature found in myths and legends… and standing? Slithering? Not ten feet away, and fucking smiling like Keith personally hung the moon and stars.

“How hard did I hit my head?”

The white haired naga looks instantly crestfallen, his posture slumping as his impossibly broad shoulders sink. His teeth pulling at his pink lower lip as the light goes out of his silver eyes. Keith feels instantly guilty.

“Um… hi?” He glances at the other naga, still hanging back. Despite this one’s long hair, which is black with a single white streak, and the overall darker tone of his iridescent scales; his face and form are exactly like the other. Too exact. Twins… Keith’s mind supplies for him. Naga twins. “I’m Keith, and I’m assuming you aren’t going to eat me, right?”

The pale one looks personally affronted by the mere suggestion, the dark one scowls at him, then slithers forward and loops an arm around his brother’s shoulders. Both of them have scars – curving over a shoulder here, a mark on gym-perfect abs there – oddly matched ones nicking the bridge of their noses. As the white haired one turns to nuzzle into his brother’s comforting embrace, Keith belatedly notices he is missing an arm, the stump ending below his shoulder and obviously well healed over.

“Look, I’m sorry….” Keith spends half a heartbeat wondering why he’s apologising to what really should be fictional creatures. “But I was just out hiking and I should really be getting back to that. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.” He moves to stand again but this time, his ankle protests before he’s even put his weight down on it fully. The longer he sits there, the more he realises that his head and face are throbbing. Raising a hand to his cheek makes him wince, the wincing hurts like fuck, and his fingers come away bloody.

“Oh, well that’s shitting brilliant isn’t it?” Keith says, feeling stupid. On second physical inspection, he thinks the wound is going to require stitches. He has a medical kit in his bag, he reaches for it- “Where the fuck is my bag?”

Shuffling and soft hissing distracts him from his own pain, and eventually Keith risks glancing up from under his mess of a hairstyle to see the naga twins facing each other, both frowning. The dark one has an object held in one frankly massive hand which Keith recognises as his knapsack, the white one appears to be arguing with him.

“Kuron… he says he wants it.”

“I don’t want you going near him… I don’t think he’s safe. What if he hurts you, Shiro? I can’t lose you.” The black scaled naga – Kuron – reaches for his twin, fingers closing around Shiro’s wrist as their foreheads fall together. It’s such a sweetly possessive and caring gesture, and Keith feels almost ashamed to intrude on something so personal.

When Shiro pulls away from his twin, his smile is soft and beautiful, silver eyes reflecting love at his brother. He turns his head just a fraction in Keith’s direction, his expression shutting down into something more guarded. Keith wishes the naga would look at him in that soft way too.

“He needs help though. We can’t just let him… what if something worse finds him?” Shiro moves closer with a deft loop and curl of his lower body. Keith finds himself staring in wonderment at the expanse of beautifully scaled muscle. There is nothing soft about either of the naga’s snake-like shapes, one could never mistake them for liquid no matter how fluidly they flow, and Keith hates that the only time he had the opportunity to touch those scales, he was barely conscious. Shiro looks straight at him as his brother approaches with a territorial glare.

“Are you here to hurt us?”

“W-what? No! Of course not!” Keith would give anything not to stutter. But four perfectly matched grey eyes regard him from two of the handsomest faces he’s ever seen, and Keith is only human. “If you just give me my bag, I can get out of… wherever I am.”

“The canyons are dangerous at night.” Kuron glances up at the sunlight filtering through the crevice above. “It is late in the day. I do not think you will make it back to the settlement, especially….”

“He’s bleeding Kuron.” Shiro’s soft hiss is banked with concern. “Mountain lions will be all over him if he leaves now.”

Kuron tosses him his bag, it lands in Keith’s lap and he lets out a small ‘oof’ at the casual force of impact. As if he needed any reminders that the two naga are clearly as strong as they look. No one – mythological creature or not – gets muscles like that without working for them. Kuron turns away as Keith opens his backpack, which Keith supposes is a sign of trust, and smooths a hand over the ball of his brother’s shoulder as he passes.

“Don’t get too close. Humans are dangerous. I won’t be far.”

Keith busies himself with unpacking his bag. Luckily it was fully closed, and despite his fall, everything is pretty much as he left it. The water bottle tucked into the side pocket is missing, but the smaller hydration pouch is still inside, and Keith drinks greedily; draining more than half before he remembers that he’s still going to have to hike back – and in less than ideal circumstances. His medical kit – repacked before each excursion – is exactly where it should be at the bottom of the bag. Keith digs out a single use antiseptic wipe, opens the packet carefully and snaps his teeth on his pain. He curses under his breath as he gingerly applies the stinging wipe to the open wound on his face. He has steri-strips, and a couple of high-tech bandages which can be used as temporary stitches for large wounds, but no mirror, because at no point in his planning had he considered the possibility of having a cut on his face. He smears the wipe down his neck, wondering just how far the bleeding goes, then tugs at his shirt.

“I think that might be beyond saving.”

He startles at the sound of Shiro’s voice, he hadn’t realised the naga had slithered closer.

“Jeez… sorry. You...” He realises he is staring at Shiro’s sculpted jawline like a parched man gazing at an oasis in the desert. The naga notices him looking, but from the expression which passes over his features, he clearly thinks Keith is staring at something else. Keith hides from the naga and his own apparent thirst by hauling his ruined shirt off over his head. “You move very quietly.”

“Oh.”

This time Keith manages a small, friendly smile when he looks at Shiro, even though his face hurts. His friends tell him he can’t smile and has no manners, but they’re idiots. Shiro returns the gesture and his eyes light up as he does. It makes him look slightly less like a twenty-foot long snake monster and much more like a really hot guy who happens to have a tail. Keith wonders if the nagas can tell that he’s blushing and roused, and then remembers that snakes can taste heat in the air and a little part of him dies inside. Hastily, he puts his hands back to work trying to fix up his face.

“I like your hair.” He offers as he fails to apply a steri-strip in the correct position for the third time. Shiro acknowledges him by running his fingers through his silvery floof, nails dragging into the shorter hair at the back. Keith wants to follow his fingers with his own.

“Thanks. Kuron does it for me.”

Keith arches an eyebrow at the darker twin’s long, slightly uneven locks.

“You don’t do his?”

Shiro looks guilty.

“He says he prefers it long… I just don’t think he trusts me with scissors anymore.” He half shrugs, and Keith has to consciously remind himself that Shiro only has one arm. For some reason, it’s an easy fact to forget.

“You nearly stabbed me in the eye.” Kuron hisses from the other side of the ravine.

“That was one time! And you kept squirming!” Shiro retorts.

Keith can’t help his snigger: they sound exactly like any other pair of siblings scuffling over old, non-existent slights. It’s very comforting. After a fourth attempt, Keith growls to himself and resists kicking the first aid kit across the ground, but only barely.

“You should let Kuron help you,” Shiro says, his voice very soft.

Keith frowns across the canyon to where Kuron is apparently gathering firewood – washed down into this section of the chasm during the last flood – whenever that was. His scepticism must show on his face.

“Who do you think stopped me from bleeding out after the-” Shiro stops suddenly, repeating his same uncomfortable half shrug, and Keith forces himself not to wince in sympathy. He doubts the gesture would come across well.

Instead he turns his attention to the stump of Shiro’s arm, and sees that not only is it long healed, but it is also beautifully healed. The end smooth and slightly shiny, the scars raised and long, but not rough or jagged or swollen. Keith cannot imagine it was a particularly easy task to accomplish without advanced supplies or a properly sterilised environment. He hangs his head.

“Do you think he’ll help me?” He asks Shiro softly. “I don’t think he likes me much.”

“I can hear you.” Kuron calls out, unhelpfully.

Keith swallows dryly. He hasn’t got much more water anyway.

“C-could you help me… dress my wound?” He bites his lip at the soft expression in Shiro’s silver eyes. “Please?”

Kuron folds muscled arms over his broad chest, flicks his hair away from his face, and arches a dark eyebrow at Keith. Keith does his very best not to look intimidated without being arrogant, and it must work on some level, because the other naga slithers his long body across the ground to join them. His scales are mostly black, speckled with white and pale silvery greys like his eyes. He settles on a coil of himself, bending at the hips just as a human would when perched on a bench. Keith has to tear his eyes away, because otherwise he knows he’s going to end up reaching out to touch him. He values his hand too much to do that without permission because whilst both twins look like they could snap him in half, Kuron looks as though he might actually do so.

After a long, tense moment, the naga holds out his hand for Keith’s first aid kit and he passes it over without comment. Kuron flicks through the contents and turns to say something to his brother with a soft hiss. Keith is so shocked by what he sees that he almost doesn’t notice Shiro departing for a long minute before returning with a cloth, and a leather water flask. All Keith can think about is that the darker of the twin nagas has a forked tongue.

Kuron moves to sit opposite Keith, much closer to his eye level with his lower body curled away from him, and takes up the damp cloth before he begins washing the blood from Keith’s jaw and neck.

“You’re probably going to have a scar, but at least we’ll stop it from getting infected.” Kuron frowns when he doesn’t respond, and clicks his fingers in front of Keith’s nose. “Hey kid, you still with me?”

“Yes!” Keith really hopes that he’s wrong about his assumption that the nagas might be able to scent heat, because Keith totally just allowed himself to drift off slightly whilst thinking about the size of Kuron’s hands on his face. He’s big, all of him is big, and Keith needs to distract himself from the distinctly gutter-like direction of his thoughts.

“How long have you guys lived here?” He’s proud not to stutter.

“Few years,” Kuron replies, non-committal.

“Six years bro.” Shiro supplies from his perch atop a flat boulder.

“Ever since we came of age.” Kuron adds. He discards the cloth, now stained very pink, and opens another antiseptic wipe with careful gestures. Keith tilts his face up and refuses to wince away at the sting of contact. Kuron gives him a very thin smile, and it lights up his face before vanishing again. “We had to leave our nest.”

“Your family threw you out?” Something about the way he said it makes Keith shiver. “Why?”

Shiro stops scratching absently at a patch of slightly flaky looking scales halfway down his tail.

“A nest is like a clan,” he explains. “Like a… you’d call it a village, I think. Out parents died when we were hatchlings.”

“I’m sorry.” He glances back to Kuron, who is selecting tape and steri-strips from Keith’s kit. “Can I ask why you had to leave?”

Kuron holds his chin and cheek firmly in one hand as he begins work, making it impossible for Keith to do much more than breathe. Even though his cheek aches, and direct touches are like sharp stings, Keith still can’t stop himself from imagining such big, nimble fingers touching him in other places.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to be a member of an endangered species, and only be attracted to your own gender?” Kuron sighs eventually. “I’ll give you a clue.” He makes a sharp gesture to the scar which runs horizontally across both cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. The perfect match to the one on Shiro’s face. “It fucking blows. And not in the fun way.”

“Oh my god” Keith stares between the twins in horror, far more upset by this than he was at seeing them for the first time. “They exiled you for being gay? That’s awful.”

“Humans do it too.” Shiro mutters unhappily.

Keith feels a hot stab of guilt on behalf of his less-than-perfect species.

“Yeah. They do. I mean, no one ever has to me, but… yeah. It happens.”

Kuron clears his throat and picks up the gauze to cover Keith’s wound.

“Anyway… so coupling approaches – time to find a mate for the season – and we were the right age by then. I told the elder we couldn’t do it and she said…” Kuron’s forked tongue flickers out between his teeth and he makes a pained noise. “Ughhhh...”

“‘One hole is very much like another boys. You’ll get over it.’” Shiro looks ill as he parrots the phrase in a dead tone. It’s clearly something he’d rather not remember, but can’t forget. “I practically vomited right there in the pairing chamber. It was awful.” He curls his arm defensively over his abdomen. “I couldn’t do that. Not just with some random naga I didn’t know or like.”

Kuron shoots his brother a soft expression of love and adoration, and Keith notices how their lower bodies have coiled and aligned, so that despite the distance, they are both sitting with their tails intertwined.

“I’m so thankful our father never had to live through the shame of that. Twin boys! Good strong young! He would have been heartbroken to learn that one is gay and the other is sort-of a demi. Fuck...”

“Hey!” Keith grabs Kuron’s wrist without actually thinking about whether or not it’s wise to lay hands on a creature so much more powerful than himself. But his indignant rage powers him through. “Don’t say that. It’s not shameful to be who you are, even if other people don’t like it!” Keith keeps his resolve as Kuron stares at him with piercing intensity. “If your father loved you, then he would have been proud. Endangered species or not!”

Too many people have told Keith before that he is next to worthless. He’s never actually believed any of them. And can’t accept that these two strong, beautiful creatures have managed to think less of themselves because the people they were raised by were bigoted arseholes. But then his righteous anger fades, and he realises that Kuron is staring at Keith’s hand wrapped around his wrist. The quickest flick of his eyes to Shiro is enough to confirm that the pale naga is also looking at the point of contact. Just as he’s about to snatch his hand back, Kuron makes a tiny involuntary noise Keith can only describe as a groan.

The very human skin beneath Keith’s fingers is cold to the touch. Not chill, like marble or glass, but just slightly lower than his own body temperature. It’s not unpleasant, but already Keith can feel Kuron’s skin heating up from the contact with him. The pulse under his thumb speeds up.

“Does it- does it feel nice?” Kuron has been touching him all along, so it can’t be that surprising, but Keith realises it is the first time he’s deliberately touched either of his hosts. He wonders when the last time was that either of them was touched by another person, and the thought makes him sad. He chews his lip thoughtfully, then shifts he weight to kneel, suddenly much closer to the long haired naga.

“Snakes can sense heat in the air.” He says simply, watching Kuron’s slit pupils dilate rather quickly. “They taste it.”

“Yes...” Kuron’s reply is a soft, satisfied hiss. Keith can just make out the double tip of his forked tongue between his parted lips. “I can do that too.”

“So, taste me.” Keith challenges gently.

One of Kuron’s enormous hands comes around to cup the back of his skull, and Keith knows it’s a feeling he wants to keep hold of forever as the naga pulls him into a kiss. Kuron’s lips are soft but wind chapped against his own, and cool of course. It’s completely unlike any kiss Keith’s ever experienced before, and so much better. He opens up for the naga, drawing him in to caress the forked tongue with his own. It’s strange and different, but Keith still groans into him as his chest is brought up flush to Kuron’s own cool muscles. Keith opens his eyes, not realising that he’d shut them to being with, and grins at the naga’s answering smirk.

“What was that about it being too late to leave tonight?” he offers.

Kuron’s eyes leave his, and suddenly Keith feels terrible for having allowed himself to pay so much attention to Kuron when his brother is right there. The two of them are still touching. He twists guiltily, but the expression on Shiro’s face isn’t of jealousy or disappointment or distaste. He looks as flushed as Keith feels, as though he too is impossibly and unexpectedly horny, with very little idea of what to do about it.

“Shiro?” Kuron asks, the single word charged with power. Keith is suddenly very aware that Kuron would clearly do whatever it takes to make his twin happy, even if that leaves Keith out in the cold.

“He’s injured.” Shiro says again. “We should make him comfortable.”

Whatever Keith is expecting after that, it is not for Kuron to help him repack his first aid kit and then take his bag, slinging it comically over one enormous shoulder before rising on his shining scales. Shiro leaves his perch and swerves close, drawing alongside his brother. Kuron loops an arm around his waist, and Shiro rests the stump of his arm against his twin’s shoulder. The look they share is beautiful, but Keith just feels himself blush all the way down his chest; and then more when he remembers he’s no longer wearing a shirt. They both notice.

“I told you humans weren’t that delicate.” Shiro says with a smirk.

It is not far from the canyon Keith fell into, to the naga’s home. He has genuinely no idea what the nest of two such rare and extraordinary creatures might look like, and is pleasantly surprised by the long cavern. Its entrance well above the high tide markings, with a clean and well organised fire pit, a broad table where one of the twins clearly draws, and a frankly enormous bed lined with fur and beautifully woven woollen blankets. There is only one bed. Just as Keith is reminding himself that of course members of a cold-blooded species would share nests whenever they could, to preserve energy and warmth, he turns to find Kuron and Shiro standing with their foreheads pressed together, eyes only for each other.

The moment draws out. Kuron’s eyes are dark and wide, his lips damp and shiny and very attractive. Keith has no idea how you’d tell if a snake is roused, but he thinks it might look something like that. All that’s missing is the tell-tale blush, but Kuron can’t blush and Keith is doing enough of that for the both of them. Shiro looks no less enamoured, his smile is transcendently beautiful and the way it reaches his eyes has Keith’s heart doing little flips in his chest. Just as he starts to wonder if the pair have forgotten about him completely, Shiro turns to him, temple now pressed to Kuron’s lips, and beckons him over.

“Hey Keith.” His name said with that lilting hiss is something Keith doesn’t feel he could ever get used to, but he wants to try. He wants to hear it again and again. “Come on over here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, we’ve gotta prove to Kuron that he’s wrong, about humans. You look plenty strong to me.”

Keith doesn’t need any added incentive, but as he approaches, he’s not expecting Shiro to grasp his hand with big, cool, considerate fingers, and slot him into the space between the pair of them.

“Oh… hi...” This close, Shiro’s face fills his vision completely, and Keith suddenly knows how all those deer-in-headlights actually feel. Kuron’s arms come up either side of his ribs, bracketing him within their bodies. “So… how do you guys er… usually do this?”

“We don’t,” Shiro replies. “I mean, I definitely don’t. Not with anyone else that is.”

Keith frowns, then shivers as Kuron drags lips and teeth and the flickering end of his forked tongue down his neck.

“You don’t have sex with anyone else?”

“Kind of a demi, remember?” Kuron reminds him. “You must be very special if my brother likes you.”

“I’m not special.” And he’s not. His legs are too long and his wrists too bony, and he can’t make small talk to save his life. His hair isn’t even a style, and his eyes are a weird colour. And yet, Shiro somehow removes every single one of those doubts when he smiles at Keith and presses the pad of one big finger against his lips.

“Don’t say that.” His lips quirk into another, more intense smile. “You really are warm.”

“Yeah he is.” Kuron’s voice is low against his ear and Keith trembles. Big hands rest on his waist, and he practically chokes on his own tongue when he feels Kuron’s thumbs meet in the hollow of his spine, the finger tips at his navel only a scant inch apart. “So tiny...”

“I’m actually pretty t-t-tall...” Before today, Keith never remembers having stuttered before in his life. “You’re just massive.”

“You bet we are.” Kuron gives no warning before lifting Keith, pulling him back against his chest as his toes leave the floor.

He yelps and scrambles for purchase, but Kuron’s beautifully scaled lower body slots between his thighs, and Keith clamps his legs around him reflexively. The smooth triangular scales hide layers of firm muscle, and it feels more like sitting in someone’s lap than Keith expected. He can feel the ridge of one hip bone under his hand and the press of something hard and actually warm, against his ass. He allows his eyes to slide down Shiro’s front, but there’s little which gives away the naga’s arousal. Kuron drags a hand from his knee up his thigh and across the front of his jeans in a sweetly possessive gesture which turns Keith’s spine to jelly. He thumbs at Keith’s fly, somehow managing to rub over the head of his cock with the movement and Keith nearly swallows his tongue.

Kuron hisses something he doesn’t catch, and Shiro sighs a laugh.

“We’re neither of us used to the idea of clothes.” Shiro reassures him. “Though I least understand why you wear them.”

“Take them off?” Kuron rumbles behind him. The firm press against his rear grinds insistently.

Without being able to explain why, Keith finds himself looking to Shiro for- what? Permission? The silver haired naga smiles sweetly.

“I’ll help you. My brother is impatient when he finds something he wants.” Shiro arches an eyebrow and frowns at his twin over Keith’s shoulder. “And he forgets that not everyone is so experienced as him.”

Keith bats Kuron’s hands off his jeans. He doesn’t have any other clothes with him, and he thinks the chances of the fabric tearing under Kuron’s eager digits is fairly high, then has to swallow a yelp of surprise when Kuron lifts him bodily again, allowing the trousers to slither off down his legs. There’s already a wet spot on his underwear, and Keith swears he feels Shiro’s eyes land on it. It’s Kuron who hisses in delight from the vantage over his shoulder.

“Eager, are we?”

Keith half twists in his lap, laying a hand over an impossibly full and firm pec. He squeezes, because he can.

“Can you blame me? Have you seen you guys?” Kuron’s lazy, self-assured smile answers his question perfectly. “And you’re both so… intense.”

“Is that bad?” Shiro murmurs beside him.

Keith spends a few heartbeats really wishing he was sat in the pale snake’s lap instead. Or as well. He isn’t sure; it’s confusing. He reaches out a hand to Shiro, happy when it’s accepted, lacing his fingers between the naga’s own. There are tiny iridescent scales dotting Shiro’s knuckles and his wrist and a strip of them down the side of his abs. Keith wants to know what it feels like to run his fingers from skin to scales and back again. He settles for rubbing Shiro’s knuckles with his thumb instead.

“It’s not bad.” He manages eventually.

Whatever reprieve losing his jeans bought him, Keith knows it’s over when Kuron’s tongue flickers over his jaw, and Keith loses himself in another fantastically messy kiss. Kuron is generous with his affection, and Keith can’t help but coax that interestingly shaped tongue into his mouth to tangle with his own. He shucks his underwear off before Kuron lowers him back onto the girth of his lower body, and is surprised when he hears a groan of obvious lust that it isn’t from either of them. He breaks the kiss to find Shiro staring at him with wide eyes, his jaw slack.

“You’re beautiful,” the naga tells him, clearly oblivious to his own earth-shatteringly good physique.

There’s no time to blush about it though, because Kuron rolls his hips up, a whole coil of his lower body flexing in the most interesting manner, and Keith moans as the cool, almost silky scales drag along his taint. Kuron moves him around easily, and every time Keith worries that he might simply slide to the floor, the naga is there with big hands, and the tightly coiled tip of his tail, to prop him back up. It’s not until Keith digs his fingernails into Kuron’s forearm, that the naga shifts him back against his chest. The hands which bracketed his waist before move back to his taut abdomen before dipping lower. Kuron thumbs along the length of his cock, dragging each fingertip over the dripping tip, and Keith whimpers.

It’s not a sound he will ever actually admit to making.

“Fucking hell, you’re so hot.”

Kuron doesn’t specify whether he appreciates how Keith looks and feels, or just his body temperature in general, but Keith doesn’t actually care. He reaches up and wraps a hank of Kuron’s long hair around his fist, yanking the naga down over his shoulder to kiss him again. It’s full of teeth and tongue and their lips not meeting well because of the stupid angle and Keith does not care. He nips at Kuron’s lower lip, swallows the little inhalation of surprise his partner makes at his boldness; then pushes his way into Kuron’s mouth, tongue sliding over teeth and the ridged textures of the roof of his mouth. Kuron hauls him upward, fixing Keith to his front with one massive hand, the other still wrapped around his cock, fingers fondling his balls in an erotically frustrating manner. Keith rocks into the motion, wanting more friction, and breaks the kiss to pant for air. Kuron’s lower body is still holding him up, and Keith stares at the drop of precum which leaks down the naga’s knuckles to spill onto his dark scales. Belatedly, Keith realises that Shiro is watching it too. Their eyes meet, and Keith is fairly certain they're having similar thoughts. He knows it when Shiro speaks next.

“It’s not very fair of him to not let you return the favour, is it?” Shiro’s smirk is two parts confident brat and one-part eager assistant, and for some reason that makes Keith even fucking hotter for the pale naga. Knowing that Shiro is on his side, some kind of co-conspirator, makes him want to do more things – anything really – to be rewarded with that smile again. “Shall we give him a hand, Keith?”

“Fuck, yes.” Keith flicks his eyes down to the smooth expanse of iridescent scales between his splayed thighs as Kuron groans against the back of his head at his brother’s suggestion. He frowns. “Er… how?”

“I’ll show you.” Shiro’s chuckle makes his spine melt, just as much as the perfectly pressured hand-job he is receiving, and Keith grins when Shiro coils ever closer and takes his hand. “Here. Feel that? There. Press.”

Keith follows Shiro’s fingers, smoothing his hand across the scales he’s longed to feel, adoring the silky smoothness and the way they ripple under his touch. Right between his thighs, just below where Kuron manipulates him so expertly, Keith’s fingers find a slight dip between two scales. At Shiro’s soft encouragement, he slides two fingertips beneath the fold and into the warm wetness beneath. Kuron’s chest shudders, and Keith wonders how comfortable the naga can be with Keith basically sitting on his abs, but his hesitation causes the snake to hiss, tongue flickering against his ear and cheek with what can only be interpreted as desperation.

“Use your other hand too. Push up just here.”

The hard mound Keith felt earlier against his ass is just as interesting under his hand, and Kuron makes a noise like a starving man presented with a feast when Shiro places his hand over Keith’s and cups him just so as he presses. Something hard and silky touches his fingers where he’s stroking under Kuron’s scales, and Keith glances up at Shiro in surprise.

“Keep going. Trust me.”

“I do.” Keith answers, even though it wasn’t actually a question. He repeats the motion, and the tapered tip of something pale pink and slick pokes from the vent. “Oh.”

“You two are gonna kill me.” Kuron growls, frustration evident in his tone. He squeezes Keith’s dick in a meaningful way and Keith shudders. “Please!”

It takes another firm press, Shiro guiding him still, and then Kuron’s cock is sliding free from its sheath and through Keith’s fingers. It’s bigger than his, and undeniably different – which shouldn’t be that surprising considering he is in the nest of a pair of nagas – a tapered length which forms a bulbous shape just above the root. Keith strokes down the shaft, revelling in the natural slick which coats his fingers as he does so, and his hand brushes against Kuron’s when he reciprocates the gesture.

“Good?”

“Nghh… yes. Harder though.” Kuron groans.

“This?”

“Here.” Shiro places his palm back against Kuron’s mound and Keith blinks in shock as a second, perfectly matched, penis slides out alongside the first. “I’ll show you what he likes.”

Keith’s remaining braincells have fused together.

“Two. He has…. I mean there are- two.” He gazes at Shiro. “You have two as well?”

Shiro manages to look embarrassed about that even though he has his hand wrapped around his twin’s cock.

“Yes?”

Keith’s horny brain is firmly in the driving seat now, and he can’t help what comes out of his mouth. His filter is non-existent at the best of times.

“You have two… he has two...” Maths is hard. “Between you, you have four.”

Shiro arches an eyebrow at him, and Kuron makes a perplexed noise. Keith ploughs on regardless.

“How do you ever get anything done?”

The sound of the two nagas laughing counts as one of the best he’s ever heard, especially when Kuron’s ends with a groan in his ear and Shiro’s knuckles brush against his thigh when he speaks:

“Yours is very pretty too, Keith.”

Keith wants to snort at that – no one thinks cocks are pretty, especially not his – but he can’t, because Shiro looks so sweet and earnest and good. Instead he sets to copying the movement of Shiro’s fist, and the moment he gets in sync with the silver haired naga, Kuron shudders and moans openly.

“That’s right. Remember to twist as you- there. You are a fast learner.” Shiro grins over Keith’s shoulder as they work over Kuron together, and his smile broadens. “He’s having a lot of fun.”

“Ahhhh ha nnngh…!” Kuron is incoherent and needy with desire behind him, and the hand which has been reciprocating pretty well until now falls still; the other still pressed tight over Keith’s hip and abdomen. Keith squirms against him, wanting friction and pressure, but it’s kind of hot to know that it’s so good Kuron can’t actually focus. Keith speeds up, then uses his free hand to sweep little circles against the tip even as he strokes. Kuron gasps, Keith’s name on his tongue turning into a drawn out hiss, and he pulses in Keith’s fist as he comes. It gets sort of everywhere, and Keith smirks when he raises slick fingers to his lips and Shiro whines.

“You like that?” Keith asks, knowing he’s being a brat about it, but also unsure which of the twins he’s actually asking the question of.

Shiro nods, but Kuron groans low and Keith’s chest vibrates with the noise.

“God, but I wanna fuck you good, baby.” Kuron’s cock is less rigid in his hand, though not actually any smaller. The other one is just as plump as before. “Please? Let me be good to you?”

Keith moans. He’s only mortal, and who could resist an offer like that?

The drag of Kuron’s scales against his ass is enough to make him shudder. The big naga holds him up with one huge hand around his waist and hip, thick fingers delving into his cleft, and Keith quivers so hard he loses his balance. He’s not actually in danger of falling, but Kuron’s grip would be painful if it was his only support. Before Keith can really panic, a cool grip wraps around his forearm, and he finds Shiro has moved ever closer. His broad chest mere inches away, his shimmering white tail coiled about him. Keith smooths his palm over the scales – so accessible suddenly, just there under his hand – and watches Shiro’s mouth fall open into a little ‘o’ of soft ecstasy.

In the next heartbeat, Kuron’s fingers are back at his entrance, slick with his own cum, teasing at his rim. He sinks in the first knuckle without warning, and Keith grips Shiro’s tail with actual force as he yowls.

“Fuck.” Kuron pants breathlessly. “He’s so tight.” He rocks his hand slightly, and it pulls a groan through Keith’s entire body. “You’re so tight, Keith.”

Keith bites his lower lip not quite hard enough to draw blood, then gasps as Kuron’s grasp over his hip changes slightly, and the naga pins Keith’s flushed pink cock against his own abs with his large fingers. The scale of the digit inside Keith suddenly seems magnified, now that he can compare it to the girth of himself. Keith whimpers all over again as Kuron pulls out, returning with more slick, and plunges inside once more.

“Oh. God-” Keith almost asks him to stop – it’s so much – and then Kuron shifts his thighs apart with his lower body and taps hard against his prostate. The noise Keith makes then is incomprehensible with desire. “Please...” he manages eventually, body bowed forward, reliant entirely on the twin nagas to support him. “Please… I want it- C’mon Kuron...” The teasing is torture, Keith feels like he’s being pulled to pieces.

“He’s gotta stretch you.” Shiro’s voice is low and sweet and wanting in his ear, close enough that Keith can feel the ghost of his lips against his skin. “You want it to be good, right Keith?” A hand runs up his spine, cradling the back of his neck as he pants. Keith’s never been so turned on in his life. “You wanna be good for us?”

Keith makes a noise which he really hopes is interpreted as a yes. Words seem like a really tricky proposition right now.

“Breathe, Keith.” Kuron reminds him. “Holy shit...”

If one of Kuron’s fingers felt satisfyingly thick, it’s nothing compared to two, and Keith makes a breathless, punched out kind of a noise as he focuses just on breathing and being good. He’s sweating and shaking, drool drips from his lip onto Shiro’s beautiful scales, and his cock is jerking with each hard-won breath. When Kuron pegs his prostate once more Keith’s free hand claws into his long hair and practically tears it as he cries out.

“You’re amazing.” Shiro tells him softly, his voice reverential.

“So hot… mhmm… so fucking hot. Love the way you look full up with me.”

That brings Keith back to himself, because there are two very interesting and elegant cocks nestled right under his own right now, and one of them is still incredibly interested in further exploration.

“Not full yet.” He manages, devoid of snark.

“Oh Keith...” He can’t tell which of them spoke, but Shiro is looking at him like he’s special, and that’s enough for Keith.

Kuron pulls his fingers out, and Keith wails with the sudden emptiness. Kuron is quick with his hands, thumbs spreading his cheek apart, fingers digging into the soft space beside his hipbones, positioning him lower in his lap, the tip of his second cock nudging against his rim.

“Oh baby...” Kuron rumbles. “I’m gonna be so good to you. You’ll see.”

Keith’s not sure where he finds the energy or the confidence to tilt and slide his ass back against the slick hardness, but the moment the tapered head presses past his tight muscles, he’s glad he did. Kuron’s groan is one to remember, and Keith doesn’t think anyone has ever felt so worshipped as him right now. The naga pulls him into his lap in one long, slow movement, his cock ever thickening as it pushes into him. Despite the prep, Keith feels more stretched than he’s ever been, and he keens in almost-pain. Shiro’s tail around his arm squeezes breifly, and then a cool hand lands in his hair, and the top of his head is pressed between Shiro’s plush pecs with a soft bump.

“That’s it. You’re doing so well Keith. So well. You’ve nearly taken him all the way, and you look so pretty doing it too.” Keith pants, shuddering with each word of praise as Shiro’s big hand strokes over his head, carding through his hair. “Going to fill you up so good sweetheart, just look how you’re opening up for him. So beautiful.”

There’s a long moment of stretch so intense that Keith feels hot and prickly all over, and then Kuron flexes his hips again and the bulbous girth of his cock slips fully into him and Keith pants wordlessly as so many inches drag over his prostate. Kuron’s groan is a match to his own, several octaves lower. Keith can’t ever remember being so full. He’s plugged up with the thick, slick, strange and perfect shape of shape of Kuron’s cock in his ass and it’s so good he wants to cry. Then Kuron slides a hand all the way up his spine, thumb rubbing the point of one shoulder blade in passing, and Keith feels the two brothers entwining their fingers over the nape of his neck. Kuron shifts his hips, so much of him moving inside Keith, and Keith really does cry as his orgasm ambushes him unexpectedly. He comes shaking and completely untouched on the naga’s cock, all three hands petting him with deep tenderness.

“Oh Keith...”

“Oh baby...”

“That was beautiful.” Shiro’s hand moves to cup his jaw, angling his face up to meet his eyes. “Thank you. You’re so good to us.”

Keith follows the motion, ending up slumped against Kuron’s massive chest. Apparently, his spine has become the approximate consistency of jello. Shiro’s thumb runs across his cheek, the one not half covered by the bandage. His smile is soft and tentative and so fucking proud that it makes Keith’s libido twitch weakly once more.

“You’re perfect.”

“Nnnnnngh.” Keith manages. When he feels Kuron still behind him, he frowns. “No. It’s OK. Keep going-”

Kuron needs no extra encouragement, hips rocking up into him, thick coils rippling with the motion as he fucks himself ever deeper inside Keith. Keith trails fingertips across Kuron’s hand on his hip, marvelling at the difference in size between them, then smears his own cum distractedly across his abs. Shiro moans. Keith meets his eyes, and grins at the entranced expression which greets him. Oversensitivity can be damned, because something about feeling Kuron fucking into him like he’s helpless to do otherwise, coupled with that hypnotised look from Shiro, makes Keith feel like a god. He’s never been so desired before and it’s fucking magnificent.

“Ohhh… oh god- you guys are- nngh! Oh fuck….” Keith wishes he was coherent enough to make more sense, to tell the twins how incredibly honoured he feels to have two such beautiful creatures as themselves, wanting to feel him. Kuron’s forked tongue drags across his skin and Keith feels holy, worshipped. As beautiful as Shiro makes him sound. It’s transcendent. Keith never wants it to be over.

He glances up through the haze of his eyelashes to see Shiro watching him, hand twitching and fidgeting in his lap, exactly as though he wants something but isn’t sure he’s allowed.

“Shiro?”

“Can...” Shiro’s tongue sneaks out to lick his lips in a distinctly nervous gesture. Keith’s interest is piqued – unlike his twin, Shiro does not have a forked tongue. “Can I kiss you?”

The crass part of Keith wants to say ‘your brother is still fucking me, I think we’re a bit beyond social niceties now’, but he knows it wouldn’t be what the naga wants to hear. It’s not really the response he wants to give either, because Keith recognises what’s being asked of him. A kiss is a big deal for Shiro. He might have his tail wrapped around Keith’s forearm, and has supported his head and crooned sweet and dirty somethings into his ear, but it was Kuron he gave a hand job to. Keith feels great, but he’s not kidding himself that it’s probably Kuron that Shiro is turned on for. Shiro trusts Kuron, after all. He doesn’t know Keith – not enough to trust him with his heart anyway.

“Please.” Keith manages between the languid, soul destroying thrusts of Kuron’s hips. “I would be honoured.”

It’s obviously the right thing to say – and he means every word – because Kuron angles himself just so and drags every inch of his tapered cock firmly over Keith’s over sensitive nerve endings, in a way which would ordinarily have Keith biting the pillow. Clearly Kuron thinks it’s good idea, and his blessing is enough to propel Keith forward.

He catches Shiro’s hand in his, yanks the pale naga forward, and wraps his fingers around the back of his neck, almost purring at the velveteen texture of his short hair. Shiro’s eyes go wide and happily stunned as Keith closes the rest of the distance between them and locks his lips against his. There’s a half heartbeat of stillness and hesitation, and then Shiro kisses him back with full commitment and force, leaving Keith breathless as Shiro licks into his mouth. Keith groans against him, anchoring himself on Shiro’s chest and shoulders as Kuron fucks him, barely able to think past the wealth of sensations his body is receiving.

The one thought which makes itself at home in the forefront of his brain, as Shiro breaks the kiss to breathe – ever so briefly because Keith hauls him back for more without delay – is that he cannot, will not, refuses completely, to give this up.

“Fuck… you guys-” Is all the warning Keith gets as Kuron’s voice drops into a low hiss, and then the grip on his hips becomes tight enough to bruise. Four sharp, bone-shattering thrusts later and Kuron snarls his way through his orgasm, cock pulsing inside Keith, filling him with evidence of his pleasure.

As Kuron heaves for breath, Keith gives in to the desire to simply slump into Shiro’s chest and does so, loving the feeling of the other naga’s big arm wrapping under his shoulders to support him. Shiro’s lower body rubs against him, cool and textured, silky soft yet hard, and Keith moans. The action pulls Kuron close against his back once more, the pair of them still locked together, and Keith hauls him in to join their kiss with a hand in his hair. He watches the brothers kiss over the top of him before he steals first Kuron’s and then Shiro’s mouth back for himself.

Eventually, somehow, they end up sprawled out but cuddled close in the nagas’ gloriously soft and warm nest. Keith groans as Kuron’s spent cock slips from him. He mourns the loss almost instantly.

“We should clean you up.” Shiro says without any apparent desire to do so. He gathers his twin’s cum with two fingers where it has leaked from Keith’s well fucked hole and draws swirls with it on Keith’s thigh.

“Yeah,” Kuron agrees with a sleepy, satisfied groan. “Can’t let him go home like that.”

“Mmmmm… then I’m not washing. Ever.” Keith cups Shiro’s jaw in one hand, reaching back to stroke Kuron’s chest with the other. Truthfully a shower sounds like a great idea, and he’s already wondering if the nagas can swim, because there are hot springs only about an hour’s walk away. But if being clean is the prerequisite to leaving, then he’ll happily give it up.

“Oh?” Kuron chuckles, like he already knows what Keith is going to say.

Keith makes sure to hold Shiro’s pale grey gaze when he speaks, thumb smoothing across his lower lip.

“I’ll stay like this.” He kisses Shiro softly, sweetly, taking his time. “Please?”

“Really?” Kuron asks with genuine surprise.

“Yes.” Keith reassures the dark scaled naga with a hand trailing across his abdomen. “You saved me, after all.”

“And you would stay with us?” Shiro gazes down at him in wonder.

“Yes.”

The silver haired naga looks like he wants to say something else. Keith holds his gaze, fingertips mapping the strong lines of his collarbone.

“Keith… will you stay forever?”

Keith blushes, pressing a closed-lipped kiss to the broad chest beneath him.

“Yeah.” He smiles, glancing up at the naga through his eyelashes. “Forever.”

“Really?” Kuron hisses happily.

“If you’ll have me.”

“Oh sweetheart-” Shiro begins.

“-baby-” Kuron murmurs in tandem.

“-we’d love nothing more.”

Satisfied, in every possible way, Keith settles himself onto Shiro’s chest, choosing one of his plump pecs as his pillow, and follows the naga’s heartbeat down towards sleep. He’s just conscious enough to hear Kuron’s gentle laugh.

“OK, he is cute.”

“Not too delicate?” Shiro chuckles softly.

“Just delicate enough.” Kuron agrees.

Keith makes a noise of disagreement at being kept up by their conversation. The twin nagas hiss their apologies and cuddle more closely around him, tails winding over his legs and wrapping with each other. Keith grins to himself. It’s perfect.