There's a brush of lips and beard against Klaus's throat, strong hands on his hips under his skirt, and then he's being stretched open on Obi's perfect cock. Klaus can't help the desperate moan he lets out, something raw and infinitely pleased.
"You feel so good," he breathes out, keeping his hands against the door as he rolls his hips back to meet Obi-Wan's deep thrusts. He has to bite his lip to keep from yelling, and lets go of his skirt on one side so that he can reach back and grab at Obi's hand where it rests on his hip. The fabric from the skirt pools over their wrists and tumbles down, swaying with each thrust, and he lets out another low moan as he turns to look over his shoulder.
They're close enough that he can't see much, mostly the unruly sweep of Obi-Wan's hair falling over his forehead, and Klaus feels a rush of affection on top of the pleasure that he's feeling. He cares so much for this man, in such a short time. He wants to make him happy, wants to make him feel good, wants to do his best to protect him from harm. Mostly, he feels so goddamn lucky to be here, just like this, held tightly in Obi's hands like he's something essential.
He isn't alone in this, not in any of it. Obi-Wan makes sure that Klaus knows that he's cared for even now, with the way his fingers press into the dips of Klaus's hips, and the way his teeth brush against the side of Klaus's neck in a way that makes his hips twitch in Obi's grip. It's infused into every touch and every smile, so much so that even the darkest parts of Klaus's brain can't deny or twist it.
"Harder," Klaus grits out, because he wants to feel Obi there even after they leave this room and rejoin the party, wants him there with every step Klaus takes.
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"You feel so good," he breathes out, keeping his hands against the door as he rolls his hips back to meet Obi-Wan's deep thrusts. He has to bite his lip to keep from yelling, and lets go of his skirt on one side so that he can reach back and grab at Obi's hand where it rests on his hip. The fabric from the skirt pools over their wrists and tumbles down, swaying with each thrust, and he lets out another low moan as he turns to look over his shoulder.
They're close enough that he can't see much, mostly the unruly sweep of Obi-Wan's hair falling over his forehead, and Klaus feels a rush of affection on top of the pleasure that he's feeling. He cares so much for this man, in such a short time. He wants to make him happy, wants to make him feel good, wants to do his best to protect him from harm. Mostly, he feels so goddamn lucky to be here, just like this, held tightly in Obi's hands like he's something essential.
He isn't alone in this, not in any of it. Obi-Wan makes sure that Klaus knows that he's cared for even now, with the way his fingers press into the dips of Klaus's hips, and the way his teeth brush against the side of Klaus's neck in a way that makes his hips twitch in Obi's grip. It's infused into every touch and every smile, so much so that even the darkest parts of Klaus's brain can't deny or twist it.
"Harder," Klaus grits out, because he wants to feel Obi there even after they leave this room and rejoin the party, wants him there with every step Klaus takes.