#striffy

The other Hats knew, of course- three were a tight knit group, and something like this certainly wouldn't slip past their radar.

But, Smiffy thought as he passed over the pressure plates to open those so very loud doors, why would they say anything and let slip their secret to controlling the only other threat on the server?

He preferred to pretend it was a secret anyways.

"Smiffy." William's voice came from a side room, muffled by the glass and chests between them. Damned piston door, always giving him away.

"William." Smiffy crossed the space easily, coming up to the left of William to drape an arm across his shoulders and ignoring the shiver (disgust? pleasure?) that he could feel come from Strife.

"What do you want?" He was busy, the chest in front of him thrown open as he sorted through it, looking for something- what, Smiffy didn't care.

"Oh, just, business. The usual." And then he felt William tense and laughed softly, moving his hand to run his fingers across the odd tips of William's ear and revealing in the sharp breath that Strife tried so hard to hide.

"W-well." William's composure had fled him, and he finally abandoned his work to dart his eyes (glowing just a bit at the corner- wasn't that cute, Smiffy thought) to glance at his frequent intruder. "I suppose you'll be wanting the 'usual' than, too?"

That was the invitation Smiffy had been waiting for, and he used his height to his advantage, dragging William around to pin him to the wall and slotting their hips together, making Strife groan and slam his head back against the wall. "I think I'll try something new today." Smiffy pulled Strife's hands up above his head, holding them to the wall as he ground against Strife shamelessly with every word. "That's a good little C.E.O."

Smiffy could feel it now, the heat growing between them as their respective tendrils strained to be released and intertwine. They had never let them actually touch, some odd fear of themselves and what they were, but Smiffy had made up his mind- now to see if Strife would allow it. He slid his other hand between them, tugging at Strife's belt, and Strife nodded, his eyes so very bright and very green as Smiffy worked him out of his clothes. Pausing, he caught Strife's attention once more to tug at his own trousers, waiting for the confirmation that, yeah, this was okay.

He got it in the the form of Strife pushing against Smiffy's grip on his wrists and whispering as if someone might hear Do it already you terrible bastard- and attaching his teeth to Smiffy's neck until a bruise formed on the thick skin.

When Smiffy's two tendrils finally met with Strife's four smaller ones, they seemed to prob at each other a moment before wrapping around each other and causing their owners to groan in unison, neon green and purple slick making movements easier.