Archive of Our Own

There are many benefits to being the latest in a long line of famed snake charmers. The actual work, however, Akechi can do without.

Snakes and serpents are easy, no matter their size or the direness of the situation he’s summoned to. He’s never met one that wasn’t charmed by the end of a magical song on his lute.

It’s the damned nagas that give him a headache. 

They’re somewhere between monster and man, bestowed with a human upper body and a snake's scaled, slithering lower body. Akechi’s never met one that wasn’t a major pain in the ass. No matter how many songs he plays or the potency of the magic he casts, they never fall under his spell. He’s long since given up on his usual methods.

Akechi has to deal with them the old-fashioned way: negotiation. And gods, is Akechi bad at it.

He’d scowled the moment he’d been handed his current case file, recognizing the bolded name across its front instantly. Not a soul in town doesn’t know his name, given Amamiya Ren’s garnered quite the reputation for himself since moving into a small cave just outside of town.

The town’s rumors paint Amamiya as a thief, a murderer, and a monster. Akechi knows they’re prone to exaggeration, but even he cannot deny there’s likely an element of truth to them. While not many townsfolk have interacted with the mysterious naga, those who have all held the same impression: he’s tricky, manipulative, and certainly hiding something. Moreover, there’s been a series of mysterious thefts lately—gold coins, jewelry, and precious jewels. Hell, he’d recently returned home to find his silver licensure badge swiped right beneath his nose, and a singular crimson scale left on his floor.

So, regardless of his hesitation, Akechi soon finds himself at the Amamiya’s cave, his lute strapped across his back, and his sword and scrolls attached to his side, in case negotiations turn sour. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s had to fight, nor the last.

With a weary sigh, Akechi takes a deep breath before stepping inside the cave, torch in hand. Each step is steady and practiced, one hand hovering over where his sword rests, as Akechi surveys his prey's lair: damp, dark, musty, and devoid of life.

Then, signs of life start to appear: a smattering of scales along the cave’s ragged floor, the burnt recesses of previous fires, and a meticulously organized nest composed of animal skins, blankets, and pillows. However, the most damning evidence in Akechi’s eyes is the gigantic hoard of glimmering treasures tucked into the cave’s corner.

It’s massive. Its piles reach as high as Akechi’s head, gleaming with seemingly everything the townfolk have reported missing, from jeweled goblets to silver serving dishes, to, wait, is that…?

Stepping closer, Akechi takes a moment to examine the hoard. It’s barely of note among the rest of the pile’s treasure but there’s no doubting it: Amamiya stole his badge!

Akechi doesn’t even manage to reach forward before he’s interrupted by an affronted voice.

“Stealing? What poor first impressions you make, Akechi-kun. Is this how you deal with your clients?” someone asks smoothly at his back. Dread courses down Akechi’s spine as he turns. His suspicions are confirmed when his eyes meet the slitted pupils of the naga he’s been sent to charm.

Gods, Amamiya is huge. Amamiya towers over Akechi, at least several feet greater in height in his current coiled position, and no doubt even taller once fully stretched. From the smirk painted across his lips, to the muscular, tanned chest that slowly gives way to a smattering of vibrant red scales that line his waist before merging into a full tail, Amamiya’s body language tells of mischief. Trouble. Danger, if need be. 

These aren’t the only thoughts that cross Akechi’s head, though the rest are far less analytical. It’s immediately apparent that Amamiya is incredibly handsome, from the strength of his build to how his stormy gray irises match the crimson of his shimmering scales. Still, Akechi’s annoyance far outweighs any instantaneous attraction, and soon, his anger tempers his usually smooth tongue sharper than any sword.

“Only the ones that steal from me,” Akechi retorts, a hand resting tightly on his hip, his sword in easy reach. “I have no interest in games, Amamiya. The sooner we can come to an agreement, the better. The townspeople have had enough of your antics.”

Amamiya’s smirk morphs into a full, taunting grin. His chin resting on his hands in false innocence, he asks, “Oh, but I do enjoy games! Do tell me: exactly what crimes have I been accused of?”

Akechi’s gaze flicks to the side; he knows he’s been caught. Most of the townspeople’s accusations are little more than rumors at best. Still, he does have one trump card.

“Stealing my licensure badge, to start.” Akechi aims the tip of his rapier at the object in question. Amamiya laughs as he slithers forward. Akechi leaps back as Amamiya captures the badge between his fingers, playing with it deftly. 

“Oh, this little thing? Why, detective, I didn’t know this was yours.”

Akechi grimaces. “Cut the bullshit. I’m no detective. Just tell me what it’ll take for you to give my badge back and leave the townspeople alone.”

“What I want?” Amamiya laughs, sharp, glittering fangs flashing with the gesture. “How generous.”

Akechi’s eyes narrow. “Within reason.”

“Well then,” Amamiya proposes, his voice diving deeper into a sultry tone as he glides forward effortlessly, his tail binding Akechi in the blink of an eye, his naked front pressing against Amamiya’s back. A bulge that Akechi tries his best not to think about rubs against his ass. He tries to flinch, but before he can, strong hands grip his waist, securing him in place. The hairs on the back of Akechi’s neck raise as Amamiya leans down, the pointed tip of one of his teeth nibbling on his earlobe as he whispers in Akechi’s ear, “Consider this my terms, Akechi-kun. I’ll keep them simple: have sex with me. I’ll give you your silly little badge back, I’ll leave the town alone—not that I admit to any crimes, of course—and hell, I’ll even let you take a keepsake from my hoard to take home. One little treasure for the treasure of my eye—suiting don’t you think?”

Akechi balks immediately, shaking off Amamiya’s hands with a sudden burst of strength. He never should have taken this job! Nagas are always so gods damned tricky, and Amamiya is the worst example of his kind!

“I absolutely will not!” Akechi scoffs. “What do you take me for, a common harlot? Release me at once, or there will be consequ—”

When Akechi’s gaze dips past the tangled black mess of curls, fanged smirk, and broad chest, to just below the crimson-scaled dip of Amamiya’s hips, his anger is replaced by lustful curiosity. Akechi is well-studied in naga anatomy—how could he not be? It comes with the trade; while his lute’s mellow tunes are his weapon of choice, it would be remiss if he didn’t know his enemies’ weak points. He’d never been fascinated with naga anatomy before, but with Amamiya so close, he cannot deny its appeal.

Emerging from a vertical slit centered just below the start of his coiled tail, are two large, bulbous cocks, one stacked on top of the other. Scales slightly paler than the ones covering Amamiya’s tail line the base of each shaft, gradually becoming more sporadic until they disappear before the bulbous heads of his cocks, a pale fluid already reading leaking from the reddened slits atop their tips. There’s no doubt they’re the bulge he felt earlier.

Akechi’s had his fair share of flings, but he’s never been one to actively seek pleasure. Yet here he is, frozen in place in front of a naga dead-set on teasing him to death, his eyes seemingly glued on his erections.

“Like what you see?” Amamiya asks, a glint in his eyes. He holds his place, letting Akechi make the first move, but Akechi can tell from the tension of his rippling muscles that he has to hold back.

“No,” Akechi huffs. Then, after a momentary pause, he slowly asks, “If I sleep with you now, you won’t betray my terms. Correct?”

“Naga’s honor,” Amamiya promises with a smarmy salute. Akechi rolls his eyes, but takes a deep contemplative breath. He’s no stranger to bottoming, but it’s always been with fellow humans, elves, dwarfs, even an orc once! But never a damned naga, one of the beings he’s devoted his life to charming!

Still, he can’t deny he’s enthralled by the possibility of taking Amamiya’s two bulbous cocks within him, even if he won’t be able to walk the following day—or week.

“Fine. But just this once—ah!” As soon as he gives his consent, Amamiya sweeps Akechi in his arms, hooking Akechi’s legs around his waist with one hand while the other cups one of his cheeks. His hand is so large it dwarfs Akechi’s face, his fingertips reaching past his head as he captures Akechi’s lips in a heated kiss.

Amamiya kisses just how Akechi imagined he would: possessive, hot, and dominant. There’s an exotic taste to Amamiya’s forked tongue, something he can’t quite place, and to his surprise, a hint of sweetness. It’s a taste he could get addicted to. A thought rings in his head, a lesson he learned as a snake charmer in training about the dangers of naga poisons and aphrodisiacs but as soon as Amamiya’s nails tear into his tunic and breeches, danger is the last thing on his mind.

Before Akechi can fully process what’s going on, cool air hits his bare back. When his eyes flick down to the ground, he notes the tattered ruins of his signature cloak along with the rest of his clothes at the base of Amamiya’s tail.

“That was an heirloom! Priceless! A symbol of the Akechi legacy!”

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Buy? If you would simply buy instead of stealing, I wouldn’t be here! And, as I said, it’s priceless—you cannot just buy—mhm!”

“Shush.” Amamiya shuts Akechi up with a kiss as he squares up the snake charmer’s body, his gaze running down Akechi’s bare skin lecherously. Amamiya’s pointed nails rake along Akechi’s chest, thin, pink lines blossoming as they trace a trail to the hem of Akechi’s briefs.

 “Gods, I really was hoping you’d say yes. I’ve had an eye on you, you know.”

If Amamiya were any other man, Akechi would have swooned from the intensity of Amamiya’s shameless leering. Instead, Akechi’s anger spikes.

“You bastard—you stole my badge on purpose!”

Amamiya shrugs. “Worth it.”

Akechi’s mouth opens, a retort on his lips, but it’s replaced by a wanton moan when Amamiya’s hand grabs Akechi’s cock, pulling it out and grasping it in his hand, pushing his briefs down his hips. They dangle around Akechi’s feet briefly before falling to the ground.

A fierce blush spreads across Akechi’s cheeks as he looks down, the length of his cock dwarfed by the size of Amamiya’s hands. By no means is he poorly endowed, but as Amamiya begins to stroke his erection lazily, Akechi’s cock is obscured entirely.

“Hard already? Oh, Akechi-kun. To think you were so reluctant earlier.”

Unable to stop himself, Akechi murmurs, “Fuck off.”

“Fuck off? Is that really what you want me to do?”

Akechi meets Amamiya’s intense crimson eyes, holding his displeasure strong. Then, Amamiya toys with the tip of his cock, thumbing the pre-cum oozing from his slit along the tip, and Akechi is forced to break his stare.

“Fuck me,” Akechi breathes.

“What was that?”

Realizing his mistake, Akechi purses his lips tightly together.

“Don’t you worry—naga have exceptional hearing. And, I for one, have been waiting for you to say that since the moment I first saw you.”

After securing Akechi tighter to his waist, Amamiya carries him to his nest, dropping him onto it unceremoniously. Akechi lets out an “oof” as his back hits cushioning but before he can catch his bearings, Amamiya surprises him.

“What are you—Oh.”  Broad, clawed hands spread his ass cheeks, their sharp nails digging deeply enough to mingle pain with pleasure, and then there’s a familiar sensation at his hole: hot, wet, and forked.

Amamiya’s tongue.

The sensation is unlike anything Akechi has ever felt before, every tingle spreading from his hole throughout his body stronger than the last. Perhaps it’s another numbing aphrodisiac of Amamiya’s, given when his massive fingers penetrate Akechi’s entrance, he feels no pain, just undeniable, instinctual pleasure when Amamiya’s fingertips drum against his prostate rhythmically. Lost in the moment, Akechi almost doesn’t realize Amamiya’s tucked four fingers inside him until they withdraw one by one.

Akechi can’t help but groan when Amamiya lines him against the soft furs of his nest, his ass neatly presented for Amamiya’s taking. Amamiya’s body nearly vibrates with excitement as the self-lubricating tips of his cocks line up against Akechi’s hole, applying enough force to tease but not enough to enter.

Akechi instinctually arches his ass against them, and Amamiya laughs. “Better ready yourself, Akechi-kun.”

The first of Akechi’s cocks enters Amamiya, followed shortly by the second. Akechi’s vision blinks away, his only tie to reality Amamiya’s fierce grip on his hips.

Gods!

Amamiya wasn’t lying; even with the aphrodisiac, he’s being split in two from the inside. The painful stretch is undeniable, and while Amamiya lets Akechi adjust to him, Akechi thinks he might have to tap out.

Then, Amamiya thrusts his hips forward for the first time, and any pain dims to red-hot pleasure as the tips of his scaled cocks brush against Akechi’s prostate, a one-two punch that leaves his body quaking with ecstasy.

Amamiya hisses, an instinctual sound akin to a cat’s purr, as his tail coils loop around their bodies, keeping them pressed together. 

“I’ve dreamt of filling you for ages,” Amamiya whispers in Akechi’s ear, following it with a tender caress. It’s sweet, almost. Akechi wouldn’t call himself affection-starved, but it’s been long enough that he savors it. Even if it comes from Amamiya of all people.

However, the moment is lost to hedonism when Amamiya’s hips snap forward, finding an effortless rhythm. Amamiya fucking Akechi is like nothing he has ever felt before; his pace is relentless, and the difference in length of his two cocks allows for his prostate to almost always be stimulated.

It takes all Akechi’s effort to hold himself up, his body shaking almost violently, as a familiar pressure builds in his gut, like a champagne bottle ready to burst. Akechi prides himself on his stamina almost as much as his legacy, but being fucked by Amamiya’s cocks is too new, too overwhelming. When one of Amamiya’s hands wraps around his cock, jerking it off furiously, Akechi knows it’s just a matter of time until he cums.

“Amamiya! I…I…” Sensing what’s to come, Amamiya redoubles his efforts, each thrust and jerk stronger than the last until finally, it’s too much.

With a shameless, unintelligible cry, Akechi collapses against Amamiya’s nest, his cock carelessly splurting wave after wave of cum onto the bedding below him. Amamiya goes down with him, his cocks jostling inside Akechi. The motion leaves them both groaning as Amamiya wraps himself tightly around Akechi, his chest pressed to Akechi’s back.

“Shit, Akechi-kun,” Amamiya moans seconds later. “I’m going to…”

His speech trails off, but his meaning is obvious, given the way his cocks shudder within Akechi. Knowing, Akechi clinches tightly around them.

“Fuck!” With one final shudder, Amamiya’s cocks begin to fill Akechi with wave after wave of his searingly hot cum. It’s unlike anything Akechi has felt before: intense, but in a strange way, also relaxing. Enough so to mask any pain as Amamiya’s sharp fangs bite down on his neck as he rides out his orgasm.

After an inhuman amount of time, Amamiya stills, holding Akechi tightly to him and lavishing the fresh bite mark apologetically with his forked tongue. For a little while Akechi basks in the attention, content to enjoy Amamiya’s ministrations. But Akechi knows he can’t stay long, no matter how nice the afterglow is. Besides, he came here with a goal, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t accomplish it.

With a sigh, Akechi crawls forward until both of Amamiya’s now soft cocks leave him, along with a steady stream of his cum. Akechi pointedly ignores how it drips down his legs as he attempts to right himself.

“You sure you’ll be able to walk, Akechi-kun? I know I can be a lot.”

“I’ll be fine,” Akechi gruffs, slowly working his way onto his feet. Amamiya laughs boisterously when Akechi begins to tip to the side, his legs too wobbly to keep his balance. Amamiya uprights him with a slap on the ass. 

“Catch.”

Akechi grabs his badge from the air, clasping a fist around it, then pocketing it. “What about the keepsake?”

“Here you go,” Ren gestures towards a burlap sack at the bottom of the pile. Akechi opens it cautiously. Inside is a matching white and gold tunic and breeches suspiciously similar to Akechi’s snake charmer uniform.

“Gods damn you, you broke into my laundry too!” Amamiya laughs heartily.

“I’ll make it up to you next time.”

Akechi raises an eyebrow, a frown spreading across his face. He doesn’t like what Amamiya is implying. “Next time?”

“Next time,” Amamiya affirms with a cocksure grin. “We never agreed on how long I would leave the town alone, after all. I’m thinking a week? You’ll have to come back and sleep with me again if you want me to be a good boy.”

 Akechi pointedly ignores Amamiya, quickly dressing and turning on his heel.

“See you next week!” Amamiya hollers with a wave.

Akechi doesn’t give him the dignity of a response, but he does make a mental note to return with his own change of clothes next time.