As Y/n was coaxed from the waters of unconsciousness, a strange mood came upon him. He knew he had dreamed; a myriad of unpleasant but inchoate sequences. He could recall nothing specifically, but a great dread curled unpleasantly in his gut; a surge of adrenaline rising and falling in the streams of his blood. The nightmares could have been about anything; the last few weeks of Y/n's life had been nothing but one stressful situation after another. His mind flashed to Dr. Nilsson's torn up visage, to claws raking down Einar's face — he inhaled, and he exhaled.
It was then he flinched. He had not felt it at first, but there was a gentle pressure at the base of Y/n's spine. Fingers were gliding up and down the length of his back, talons catching on the hem of his shirt; it hitched up a centimeter or so with every pass. It took Y/n a single, groggy moment before he recognized Enlil's touch. Another one to fully understand how much the naga's body was insistently invading his own: the (h/c) man could feel the thick coil of the creature's banded tail nestled in the space between Y/n's legs.
It was... an interesting sensation. Snakes' tails were mostly muscle, powerful muscle in Enlil's case, and to feel it contract around his sensitive upper thigh, or wriggle to find a comfortable pocket of space amongst the slope of his calves, Y/n couldn't help giving an involuntary squeeze back. The (h/c) man felt suddenly too aware of every point of contact between them, his skin too sensitive; overwhelmed by the tingles racing up and down his nerves. The fingers descending down his spine paused, and then Y/n felt a whisper of a tongue against the nape of his neck: thin and fluttery. Enlil began hissing, in that strange melodious language, his deep tones oddly dulcet as if attempting to coax Y/n back to sleep.
Half-conscious and sleepily dragging his eyes partly open, Y/n felt a desire to know. He wanted to know what the naga was always saying, what the creature was whispering to him now. But the soft, luring tones were devastatingly effective. Another wave of heaviness pulled Y/n's eyelids back down and he dozed. He unknowingly relaxed back into the naga's hold, and shivered when Enlil's fingers began their ascent once more. It screamed of a calm, deliberate patience. Of a snake waiting in the brush to ambush its unwitting prey. Y/n's breath shook as those talons dipped slightly beneath the hem of his shirt, circling around a notch in his spine. The sharp edges of the naga's talons felt too good against his bare skin; on the right side of light, teasing, and ticklish.
Yet, the fingers left, skirting up his back once more over his shirt. But they kept moving, sliding up his neck and then curling around to trace over the raised, angry tissue of Enlil's mark. Y/n felt his breath catch and still when Enlil pressed the pads of his cooler fingers against the indents of his own fangs in Y/n's skin. The (h/c) man could almost feel the creature's satisfaction, as present and dense as the surrounding humidity. And it made something deep in Y/n tremble.
And Enlil did not stop touching his mark on Y/n's shoulder. The naga's fingers lightly outlined its form, his claws catching on healing scabs, and then Enlil applied pressure. It did not hurt beyond a mild sting, but the naga's touch was firm, manipulating and massaging the mark as if fascinated, endlessly fascinated with the shape it had taken on Y/n's delicate skin.
Y/n felt the blood rise to his face, and his cheeks grow hot. He wondered, for the millionth time, if he had yet again stumbled into something dangerous headfirst and ignorant. All Enlil had said was the mark — the act of biting him — was a gesture of affection, but this did not feel like a light intimacy. It was no kiss on the cheek, or cuddling embrace. The sheer amount of attention the mark was receiving felt far too intense; destabilizing. The (h/c) man swallowed and tried to ignore how good it felt.
Well, until the naga's fingers paused. The cessation of such gentle ministrations brought a wake of comfortable, buzzing sensitivity to Y/n's throat and shoulder. It was enough to have the (h/c) man drifting back off. Yet, he could sense the naga remained poised behind him. Although his sensory organs were not keen enough to pick up on what Enlil was doing precisely, Y/n's awareness of the naga remained painfully acute. He felt the back of his neck prickle, a subtle alarm being tripped in the back of his sleepy mind.
There was a single warning: a hot, instinctual roll of his gut — and then Y/n felt Enlil's thin tongue on his skin, pressing against the mark right where his fingers had just been. The (h/c) man's eyes shot open, a short sharp inhale dragged in abruptly between his teeth. Y/n went rigid under the attention, especially when the naga's mouth followed. Lips met the broken skin with a determined pressure and Y/n jerked as the mark throbbed. But the (h/c) man's movement was immediately restricted as Enlil's tail tightened around his legs.
"Y/n," Enlil growled low, close to his ear.
"Yeah?" Y/n's choked reply came, far more breathless than he intended.
He could feel Enlil's jaws part, and the hiss that rolled out of his throat sounded different. It was one, long drawn out thick note. It reminded Y/n of when other snakes hissed to give off a threatening signal in the wild. It was the kind of violent, steady sound that preceded a deadly strike.
Apparently, the language was not far off. Y/n's could feel the heat of Enlil's breath and then open-mouthed, the naga descended on his mark, dragging his long, curved fangs along the skin. It left damp trails its wake and had Y/n's pulse thumping hard. He knew just how deadly the venom stored in those glands were; how easily the naga could inject it into his bloodstream through the fangs he was currently running over his skin, and yet... Y/n's fist closed hard, his nails biting into the palm of his flesh.
Enlil's lips closed around his flesh, and Y/n could feel the razor sharp edges of the rest of his teeth nibble ever so slightly on his skin.
The heat that hooked in Y/n's gut was volcanic.
"Enlil, what —?" he barely managed to bite out, hips rolling forward — but not very far, not with how vice-like the tail suddenly felt around his good thigh. The (h/c) man tried to ignore it; how blood was rapidly filling his cock. But Enlil's touch was so gentle, yet intense.
The naga's mouth released him, nuzzling his throat as he spoke, "How long?"
The cryptic, two-word question rattled around in Y/n's distracted mind.
His brows furrowed, "What? What do you —? How long for what?"
"Your scent, Y/n," the naga continued, his deep voice vibrating Y/n's bones. "How long will it persist?"
"What?" a half-smile formed on the (h/c) man's lips, the confusion deepening — scents did not really change, after all, did they?
Then Y/n's eyes popped open wide. Oh, don't tell me... But it was that, wasn't it? That was what Enlil was asking him. It fit. The naga, like most snakes, communicated largely through pheromones, that had been established. And so had Enlil's apparent attraction to the pheromones Y/n emitted. But the thing with snakes and mating was that the female's sexual pheromones eventually ended. Snakes had mating seasons; they were not like humans who could have sex and conceive at any time of the year (a true rarity in the animal kingdom). Awkwardness swelled up within the nonexistent space between them. At least, on Y/n's part it did — but maybe Enlil isn't even asking about that...
"Uh," how to broach the topic... Y/n wondered, carefully choosing his words, "My scent isn't going to change," he murmured. Not in that context anyway; sexually, he would always be... able to perform.
Enlil's face pulled away from his neck, and Y/n could feel the intensity of the naga's stare on the back of his head.
Y/n turned his face slightly to meet the other's gaze and saw those irises burning green. Enlil's second eyelid, fleshy and partially transparent dragged horizontally across his eyes. The naga was silent for a moment, and Y/n could feel the tip of his tail writhe restlessly between his ankle and his calf.
Enlil blinked slowly again, "...Explain," he finally settled on the word, as if he had been searching for it. Then the naga shuddered, rapidly shaking his head as if to dislodge something from it. Abruptly the strange gesture ended. Enlil stilled once more, and this stillness felt paralyzing, those verdant eyes flaying Y/n right down to the bone.
"We do not..." Enlil started and stopped, baring his fangs a moment. "Nagas do not physically mate unless the scent is ripe," the naga trailed a patient finger down the slope of Y/n's neck.
The (h/c) man swallowed, "And let me guess, the scent is not ripe for very long."
Mating seasons, he concluded quietly to himself. Perhaps that truly was what the naga was referring to.
"No," Enlil confirmed. "We shed, and our scents last a moon phase. We copulate until our mates are fertilized; this too carries a certain scent..." Enlil's fingers curl around Y/n's jaw, "I know we will not have a brood," the naga's voice is soothing, "and if we miss your ripening because you must heal, then it is... it is," Enlil broke out into a loud purr, his head almost roughly butting into Y/n's and then lips were pressed against the (h/c) man's forehead. "It is no bother," the naga hissed quietly against his skin. "I will not let such a thought torment your mind. Ever."
Y/n flushed and stuttered, "Uh. Enlil..." he did not know how to expertly handle this situation.
The naga's purring grew louder, as if Enlil wanted to drown out any concerns the (h/c) man was trying to voice.
"Uh, Enlil," Y/n's spoke a little louder; a little more insistent. "Humans, we don't — uh, we don't stop mating. That's not what I mean," the (h/c) man squeezed his eyes shut and tried to gather his thoughts properly before he opened his mouth again. "What I mean is, we don't have a season for physically mating. We can physically mate any time; all the time. When I say my scent isn't going to change, I mean it isn't going to change. It doesn't matter if it takes me months to heal, I will still smell exactly like this. We can pretty much physically mate whenever. Biologically speaking."
But even as Y/n said all this, he couldn't help but think, oh. Oh, in the way he suddenly realized a reason why Enlil was ridiculously patient and accommodating. Nagas not only mated for life, but had very short breeding seasons. Then oh, as he understood that Enlil could wait a year — years likely considering he doesn't have a mate right now — before ever pressing the issue to have sex with him. That was the perspective Y/n had been missing, but surely — surely it was the female sex pheromones that dictated this behavior.
Which meant, if Y/n's pheromones never shut off (for lack of a better term) than neither might Enlil's drive to mate with him.
Y/n slowly opened his eyes, and a swift breath punched out of him. Although there was no real discernible expression on Enlil's face, the naga's features felt humorously stuck in place; frozen. His purr had cut out halfway into Y/n's speech.
Y/n watched as the creature's double eyelids blinked, blinked again, and then his tongue came out rapidly.
"I do not understand," Enlil confessed voicelessly. "Your scent will not change? You... you intend to say..." those inquisitive emerald eyes began to flush, flush a deep, dark black. Enlil's jaw flexed open, his stare never leaving Y/n's face — no, it was rapidly flicking, checking every inch of Y/n's expression and then lower, as if expecting to detect some kind of falsehood. "Your scent has been... tempting for a long time..." the naga observed hesitantly.
"It will not change?" Enlil asked again, it was a quiet, delicate thing. As if he was on the precipice of a great realization. "So this will —" and then the naga's hand abruptly came down to squeeze between Y/n's legs.
"Fuck," the (h/c) man gasped out, his semi-forgotten arousal rushing right back to the surface of his thoughts; hips rutting right into the pressure — and then he reined himself in, putting a stop to it. His bandaged hand wrapping around the naga's forearm.
But while the naga's hand stayed, right there and hot against his clothed cock, it did not do anything more.
"You will always be aroused?" Enlil questioned, confused even as he could taste the evidence for himself in the air.
"Yes," Y/n chewed out.
Enlil exhaled hotly, "Time is no factor?"
Y/n let out a breathy laugh, "Not really, unless you're talking a refractory period."
The naga's hand moved off his crotch, leaving him half hard and aching. Instead those fingers trailed over his thigh muscle.
Enlil made an inquisitive sound deep in his throat, "What is that?"
"Uh," Y/n's voice turned a little high pitched, but he realized that he had definitely dug himself into his own grave this time. With heat threatening to overtake his face completely, the (h/c) man tried to his best to explain. "After — after mating, the refractory period is the time it takes until we can, er, mate again."
"How long?" the question was a deep roll of vibrations from the naga's chest to his own.
"Could be minutes," Y/n squeaked out. "Maybe half an hour. Maybe a little more."
"Minutes," and that echoing growl felt hellacious.
Y/n nibbled on his bottom lip nervously, looking right into the naga's pitch black eyes. Then, he cracked a smile, not sure if Enlil was on board with this or...
"Benefits to taking me as a mate?" Y/n's unsureness turned it into a question.
But the naga did not share any of this uncertainty. Enlil released a loud hiss, baring his teeth and shifting until Y/n was spilling over onto the blankets and pillows and the naga was on top of him, baring down on him. Enlil hissed again, as if struck mindless with the information the (h/c) man had bestowed upon him.
"Benefits," the naga echoed, a low seductive growl surging through his throat, "I see now I am only beginning to learn."
And the naga's eyes on him spoke of starvation. Y/n was struck breathless by the look. He wondered if it was difficult for Enlil to hold himself back. If Y/n's scent was truly that... distracting. And now that the naga knew it would not be alleviating... Well, the (h/c) man was glad that Enlil did not seem to mind.
Y/n laughed beneath him, reaching up to wrap his good arm around Enlil's neck. "So, you'll mate with me whenever, right? After I'm healed? You're not stuck to a single season, are you?"
Enlil's eyes burned with commitment, "I will mate with you forever."
_____
Enlil's behavior seemed to undergo a metamorphosis after that conversation. Y/n had thought it would make the naga's passionate attentions calm down; the (h/c) man had proven that there was no immediate need to mate, or prepare for mating. There was no requirement that the naga's behavior should remain overabundantly caring or territorial. And that, territorial, was the unnamed motivation Y/n had been seeing express itself. The way Enlil became aggravated over his crutches, his blankets, and insisted that Y/n stay close to their den. Snakes were not violent creatures; they were not typically overtly aggressive.
...Unless their females began giving off certain pheromones during the breeding season. And as powerful and independent Enlil seemed to be, so assured he was that the other nagas will do as he commands — it was no wonder then, Enlil had been hovering incessantly over Y/n. But there was no end to Y/n's mating season, and so the (h/c) man thought — he mistakenly thought that Enlil would settle down to adjust to this revelation; live with it but...
The naga was on his favorite flat of rock, scales glittering in the sunbeams leaking in through the cavern's cracks. Long, spidery roots hung down from them, casting needle-thin shadows over Enlil's eyes. And those eyes had not left Y/n's hobbling form for one heartbeat. The (h/c) man was trying to practice walking; to facilitate his healing process without losing too much muscle mass and toe the line of preventing further injury. Relying heavily on the crutch, Y/n tentatively began a small joinery from one rock wall to another.
Enlil's pink-colored, contented eyes followed him, flushing various colors — poisonous yellow when he stumbled or inquiring green when Y/n muttered to himself. But the yellow, that color had Y/n flinching. The only other time he had seen it was when Dr. Nilsson had sunk that tranquilizer into the naga's arm, fully paralyzing him. To see it now, in the context of Y/n stumbling around and risking injury, it was...
Y/n felt a little touched.
What remained though, was the naga's attentions. Enlil had barely left the den, only for feeding Y/n — the (h/c) man was sure of this, and...
Y/n stopped, catching his breath and his balance and leaning heavily against the crutch. He trusted Enlil not to starve himself, but the (h/c) man still worried about the naga's clinginess. It had been a few days now.
While he was stopped here, Y/n took a moment to peel back the bandages surrounding his shoulder and studied the healing injury. It was taking on an inflamed hue, and a pulsating ache. Early signs of infection, and didn't that make Y/n's gut swoop low with fear. But he wasn't panicking, Y/n instead mentally catalogued all of the resources available on the island. Antibiotics were routinely given to people sustaining life-threatening injuries; there was no way a professional like Einar would have overlooked this, but Y/n had searched the Charlie campsite and he had not seen antibiotics — but what about the other two?
The (h/c) man hadn't pursued it earlier because it would have been better to heal without antibiotics, since the medication typically wreaked havoc on the body's digestive system. However, given the way his wounds weren't healing effectively, his best bet would be to search Camp Alpha for antibiotics, and if they were anywhere — the first few places that came to mind was Einar's portable and the lab Dr. Nilsson and he had shared.
Y/n returned to the present moment, his underarm sore where he maintained a persistent pressure against the crutch holding him up. As his thought process concluded, he turned to face Enlil — only to see the naga no longer peacefully lounging, stretched out along the length of the sun-warmed rock. Sometime during Y/n's rumination, Enlil had ceased relaxing. The naga had risen, supported by one arm; tail coiling and uncoiling restlessly; those eyes had not strayed from Y/n at all, bolding meetly the (h/c) man's gaze at once. Y/n's brows furrowed; he didn't know how Enlil could detect anything amiss with him, but for some reason the naga seemed uneasy and poised to act.
Then a single, high-pitched note left the naga's throat. It felt like a question.
Y/n turned more to face Enlil, and stuttered a step forward, crutch wobbly uncertainly for a brief second. Y/n stopped again to catch his balance, looking at the naga. He tried to find his voice; he needed to tell Enlil everything he had been thinking; that he needed the naga's help to make it to Camp Alpha, and he needed antibiotics because his injuries weren't...
But it was still hard to ask. It felt a little foreign to ask for help from anyone, but ever more so to ask this of a naga... A naga whose hatred for humanity remained lingering in the shadows of Y/n's doubtful mind.
Y/n's silence outlasted the naga's patience.
"Ask," Enlil commanded. The naga's too-sharp eyes raked over Y/n's form. "You need me," the creature correctly assessed. "What is it?"
"Uh," Y/n began inelegantly, hand briefly brushing over his bandaged shoulder. The naga's eyes followed the movement; acute and intense.
Enlil's head slowly cocked to one side, "Why do you struggle to speak your needs to me?" Those mercurial eyes narrowed, "You were not afraid to voice your needs to those humans you arrived here with. You were not afraid to demand services from — the woman," that reference to Dr. Nilsson was a putrid growl, "when you were injured and needed her healing." The naga's tail lashed out and thumped unnaturally loud on the ground compared to the creature's usual silent grace. "Why does that privilege not extend so easily to me?"
"Well, maybe because —" Y/n wasn't thinking before he spoke; a tinge of frustration coloring his voice, "— they didn't hate me or my species." The (h/c) man's face fell, "That's not — I mean, how can I be sure your feelings won't change, Enlil? You were the one who said humans are loud, bothersome creatures. I don't want to be that. I don't want to ask for too much from you and become that again. I'm not here to make you hate me — I was never here for that reason. I didn't want to do this to you or your home; I only came here to learn."
Y/n shielded his face with his hands, feeling frustrated, guilty, and vulnerable.
"I still feel bad, you know," the (h/c) man continued quietly.
Maybe it was the reminder of Enlil's yellow eyes, of the naga's fear when Dr. Nilsson tranquilized him. Y/n flew to this island, hearing Dr. Nilsson speak of dissecting and interrogating a species she knew to be sentient. He saw the cage; he saw the poachers; could see how their campsites ravaged the land on the coasts. How they hunted the populations on this island carelessly, proudly, and obnoxiously.
"I should have done more," he whispered. "I'm sorry. Maybe I could've put a stop to this before it even began — but I don't even know if that was ever in my power. I just feel..."
And Y/n knew. He knew how many people had been massacred on this island by the naga's own claws, by the creature's venom, by its strength, and its ambush. But it was difficult to be sympathetic when they knowingly and intentionally not only invaded Enlil's territory but treated it so awfully.
Y/n exhaled audibly. "I don't want to be any more of a burden to you or this place — it's beautiful. I don't want to do anything worse to you — haven't you been through enough? You don't need to sit here and help me with my injuries. I just..."
There were long moments that stretched out between them following Y/n's honesty. In the silence, the (h/c) man tried to put himself back together, breathing steadily in and out. His face was still hidden in the palms of his hands, his body beginning to ache in more places then just his injuries or his arm.
Then there was the tiniest nudge, a small collision of force against Y/n's crutch. His body jostled with the movement, but it was nothing compared to the way the naga knocked it out of his hold the first time Enlil had expressed his aggravation towards it. It felt more like a question; like he was waiting, asking for Y/n's permission before he acted.
The (h/c) man's eyes slowly opened, his hands lowering from his face. With a jerk, Y/n realized the naga had snuck up behind him, the banded tail winding around his front but Enlil's tongue fluttering against the back of his ear. Y/n could feel the phantom pressure of the naga's body, only inches away from him. The tip of the creature's tail nudged the crutch again and then the naga's hands came up to hover around Y/n's ribcage, as if Enlil wanted to hold him but remained waiting...
Y/n leaned back into the naga and the hands secured around him immediately, the crutch fell to the floor with a loud, careless thud, and Y/n suddenly found himself being carried back to their nest of blankets and pillows.
"I met good humans once..." the naga admitted idly, the words coming out in gradual, unhurried syllables. "When I was young, very young..."
"I know," Y/n whispered as the naga laid him down and then began his lengthy process of coiling around him, the tail writhing around his legs to find a good spot to soak up his mammalian warmth. "They must've taught you our language," Y/n explained his guess, staring out across the tiny stalagmites and moss-covered mounds of rock.
"They taught me more than that, Y/n," Enlil's admission surprised him. Then the naga paused, inhaled against Y/n's back; the (h/c) man could feel Enlil's chest swell — "I killed one of them," Enlil's words were devoid of growls or hisses. "It was not my intention, but young nagas, we..."
"Have little control over your venom, or your instincts," Y/n ventured. It was true, after all, of all young snakes blessed with venomous glands.
Enlil relaxed behind him, tucking his face into Y/n's neck. "Yes," he said in one long drawn out hiss. The naga simply stayed there, tickling his tongue over Y/n's throat and soaking up his scent. Then a question parted from his lips, "Why do you study snakes?"
Y/n felt as though there were a lot more to the story the naga had been half-telling, about the humans from before — about him killing one of them, but the (h/c) man did not pursue it. Instead, he attempted the messy process of rolling over so he could face the naga. Enlil let him, tail readjusting around him and head lifting away from his neck. Y/n let his forehead rest against the smooth expanse of the naga's pectoral muscles.
"You demonstrate a... deep understanding of... snakes," the words fell haltingly from Enlil's lips.
Y/n wondered what thoughts were going through the naga's mind. How Y/n understood that Enlil was asking for permission to mate with him, or perhaps the fact Y/n knew to target his Jacobson's organ when they were kissing — the (h/c) man breathed a little laugh at that. Or maybe even the understanding he was trying to show the naga now, with stating he knew Enlil's actions could have very well been an accident.
"I told you," Y/n breathed against Enlil's skin, "we have to live with them where I am from. There are people who study all kinds of animals we live with."
A light touch unsettled the (h/c) hair atop his head. "But you chose... snakes."
"I like them," the admittance came like the small, simple thing it was.
A quiet purr rumbled through the naga's chest, and Y/n smiled against it, feeling his lips tingle from the strange vibration.
"There is knowledge you do not have," Enlil continued on his strange tangent, but his voice remained saturated with fond purrs. "My hatred... the voice of it... the insults I aimed at you, they come from a grave wound, Y/n. One that you did not inflict. In truth, I suspect..." the naga's voice went so quiet Y/n had to strain his ears, "...you are healing it."
It was hard to describe the rush of emotions that welled up within Y/n at that moment, he could only squeeze his suspiciously damp eyes shut and hold onto the warmth erupting in his chest.
"I still don't want to be that though — disturbing and bothersome," Y/n did not shy away from sharing his uncertainties.
"Do not," the growl crashed against Y/n with the power of a storm surge. "Do not interpret my past words in a way that applies to you, or to us."
Us, the term rattled around in Y/n's suddenly unresponsive head.
"Do not voice your demands and believe you are depleting my home or my — my person." The naga seemed to struggle with words for a moment, switching over to hiss in his own language as if it were easier to formulate his thoughts — then he abruptly switched back so Y/n could understand, "Humans are different. In ways I did not foresee..." Enlil observed. "I will not pretend to understand the desires of your kind, Y/n, that is why you need to tell me them. I will be certain about my own desires. I want you to be cared for, and I want — need —" the growl was doing something to Y/n, it was twisting his insides up in the most pleasant manner possible. "It must be me," Enlil snarled. "The one who cares for you — must be me. I want this. We are — we are already —"
"Oh god," Y/n gasped out as Enlil's mouth once again closed over his mark, the strike swift and taking the (h/c) man by surprise.
Teeth threatened to break the skin of it again, but Enlil held back, merely lavishing the scabbing skin with attention. Attention that had molten heat surging through Y/n's gut, and racing down his spine.
"Bonded," the naga finished, pulling away from Y/n with eyes that glittered like shards of obsidian.