terriblymisguided | (no subject)

Obi-Wan presses against him, sliding his thick cock through the cleft of Klaus's ass, teasing over his greedy hole, and Klaus has to bite his lip to keep from begging Obi-Wan to just put it inside of him. It's an unfamiliar desire, one specific to Obi-Wan and only him, and he allows himself to think maybe someday before pushing the thought away entirely.

When Obi pulls back, the heat starts to prickle over his skin again, different than the bright flare of desire coursing through him. Obi's request makes Klaus groan, shivering with pleasure at the soft command as he reaches out to grab the lube and slick his fingers. He tosses the tube back and leans forward to press his cheek against the door, tipping his hips up as he reaches down between his legs, bypassing his cock to reach under his skirt and slide his fingertips up along the cleft of his ass.

He knows that Obi is watching, so Klaus takes a breath and gives him a show, rubbing tight little circles along the tight pink clench of his hole, whimpering as he slides the tips of both inside of himself, sinking them in with a low groan and clenching down around his fingers.

"I did it just like this, thinking about your big cock," Klaus pants out, fucking himself with his fingers as his other hand rests against the door. "My fingers don't feel anywhere near as good, but I wanted to be ready for you. Wanted you to be able to just grab me and take me."

He swallows hard, eyes closed as his cheek rests against the door. Obi-Wan still isn't touching him and Klaus feels like he's going mad, burning up in so many different ways, so he pulls his fingers nearly all of the way out of his body, leaving the tips inside as he spreads them open as much as he can, letting Obi-Wan see just how ready he is before plunging his fingers in deep again, twisting them and letting out another needy whimper.

When Klaus discards the lubricant, Obi-Wan retrieves it, spilling some into his hand and slicking it over his cock, stroking slowly and almost thoughtfully as he watches Klaus. If possible, his cock grows harder still, painfully hard, as he watches, listens to Klaus. This sort of display, it's not something Obi-Wan thinks himself capable of, but Klaus makes it look so easy, like it's the sort of thing anyone could do with the right person.

Maybe, he thinks. Maybe he could.

For now, it doesn't matter. Because Klaus can and it's beautiful, seeing the way he pushes his fingers into himself, the way he spreads himself for Obi-Wan to see. His voice is beautiful, smooth and full of desire, and Obi-Wan can only watch for a few more moments before he's crowding back up against Klaus once more.

"You're stunning," he whispers against Klaus's ear, before he rolls his cock against Klaus's fingers, indicating he wants them out of the way. He wants to be inside Klaus now, needs it, needs to feel the heat of his body surrounding his cock, clenching tight, pulling him in.

Stunning, he says, and Klaus shivers at the praise. Obi-Wan gives compliments freely and Klaus accepts each one happily, tucking them away to revisit later, when he needs a reminder that someone out there really cares for him. Not just someone, but someone good.

Obi closes the space between them and Klaus moans in relief, reveling in the soothing sensation of Obi's cool skin against his own. He withdraws his fingers and hikes up his skirt, feeling the lace of his shirt shift against his skin. In that moment, he feels unbearably sexy, the both of them still fully dressed with his skirt pulled up over his ass. He wishes that he could see what they look like from the outside, because he'd bet that it's a pretty incredible sight.

"I need you inside me," Klaus pants out, holding the end of his skirt in his fists as he rests his forearms against the door, letting out a needy whimper as the head of Obi's cock drags along the cleft of his ass, catching on his slick hole. "Obi, please."

This is not a scenario in which Klaus has to beg, but the way he says that single word -- please -- still makes Obi-Wan shiver in anticipation rather than cold. He feels utterly debauched already, terribly indecent, wonderfully uncivilized, both of them still decidedly dressed, only Obi-Wan's trousers opened and pushed down, Klaus's skirt bunched up in his fists.

Obi-Wan knows he's never felt this way. Never in his life.

He presses his lips to the side of Klaus's throat, then the skin under his ear as his hips roll and the head of his cock sinks inside of him. He moans, unable to help himself, enveloped by the heat, the tight muscles, and another shiver runs through him as he pulls back and then presses in again.

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.

With another kiss to Klaus's throat, Obi-Wan does as he's asked, thrusting into Klaus harder, hard enough that the sound of skin on skin is loud in the room. His teeth graze along Klaus's skin as he groans, feeling undone already, and he slides his hand around and under the skirt once again, wrapping long fingers around Klaus's cock and for the moment just holding onto him.

He tilts his head, bites Klaus's earlobe gently before sucking it into his mouth, his tongue gliding over skin. Like this, he's breathing against Klaus's ear, every sound he makes vibrating against his skin as he rolls his hips over and over, harder with every thrust.

A part of him wants to pull down Klaus's hair, let the curls tumble down the back of his neck, but he looks so lovely as he is that Obi-Wan can't bear to do anything to ruin that. Instead he contents himself with burying his face against the side of Klaus's neck, breathing him in, panting against his skin as he thrusts over and over, a hard and steady rhythm.

The sounds of the party are faint and muted, not even really enough to call background noise. It's mostly silent in the room. No music, no television, not even a fan. All there is to focus in the sounds of their bodies meeting, an obscene repetitive slap that sounds beautiful alongside their heavy breathing and whimpers of pleasure.

A soft yelp escapes him as Obi's fingers curl around his cock, and his breath hitches when the soft material of his skirt drags over the head of it in a pleasurable sort of way. Obi's face presses to his neck and Klaus tips his head back, gasping at the drag of beard against his oversensitive skin.

This is all so absurdly hot that Klaus feels close to the edge already, whimpering as he rocks back into each hard thrust. He can feel the bite of Obi's zipper against the crease of his thigh, and it's a slight pinch that sends little sparks of pleasure through him. It's all so fucking good, and Klaus lets out a startled moan when Obi shifts the angle enough for the next thrust to land at the perfect angle, striking his prostate over and over again.

"Obi, fuck," Klaus pants out, dragging his skirt up to hold it against his belly, because he's so close and he doesn't want to ruin the fabric. "Do you like knowing that I'll be down at that party with shaky legs because of you? Do you think everyone will know how hard you fucked me?"

Obi likes it when he talks, Klaus knows, so he likes to work it in, especially when his voice is rough and panting like this, because of how good Obi is making him feel.

The question brings out a huff of air from Obi-Wan, something between a gasp and a moan as he continues to stroke Klaus, his hand still slick with lubricant, making it easier for his palm to glide along the silky, heated skin of Klaus's cock. He likes it more than he knows how to properly say. Not because then people might think Klaus is his somehow, someone not to be touched or flirted with, he doesn't feel such a need. But because it reminds Obi-Wan this is real.

It's all real.

"Yes," he breathes as his hips snap forward again, burying himself inside Klaus. He can tell from the way Klaus is breathing and the way he moans that he likes how it feels right now and Obi-Wan doesn't want it to stop. He wants Klaus to keep making those sounds, wants to drag them out of him for as long as he possibly can and he continues to thrust, stroking Klaus at the same time, breathing hard against his neck.

The answer makes Klaus grin, because that single syllable had been so infused with a raw sort of passion, and he knows that Obi-Wan understands what he means. It isn't a matter of possession or claim, but an acknowledgment of something real.

If Klaus really wanted to, he could hold off for longer, but he sees no reason to deny himself this pleasure, not now. This won't be the first time they do this tonight, whether it be at this party or someone else. This is only the start, and he can have it again and again.

Perhaps it's this knowledge that has him coming all over Obi-Wan's fingers with a cry, not bothering to try and hold back. The other people in these rooms are all doing the same thing they are, so it's not like he has to be quiet. Klaus lets Obi-Wan hear all of it, the cries and the gasping whimpers as aftershocks make his thighs tremble.

"Obi," he pants out, clenching down around his cock and rocking back against him, tipping his head back against Obi's shoulder as he plants one hand flat against the door. "Fuck, you feel so good."

It's a rather incredible thing, something he's always thought but has only recently had cause to recall, making someone come. It feels not like power, which Obi-Wan thinks maybe people might describe it as, but as something given. Something shared. He's not taking something from Klaus, but giving it to him, sharing it with him, and the sensation, this knowledge, it washes over Obi-Wan like a warm wave, taking him under.

"Stars, Klaus," he groans out, still holding onto Klaus, though he stops stroking, knowing he must now be sensitive. He's breathing hard, shuddering with pleasure and want and desire, and then suddenly Obi-Wan's hips snap forward one final time and he buries himself deep in Klaus just before he comes with a desperate moan.

He's sweating, he realizes. Just a little, but enough that it tells him whatever had been happening to him because of the drink has worn off. As he presses against Klaus's back and kisses the side of his neck, Obi-Wan wonders if they could be blamed for trying another drink and another until they have to make their way back up to this very room.

As dazed as he is by his orgasm, Klaus still takes the time to think about how wonderful it is that they always seem so in sync. It's kind of beautiful, how they seem to set each other off, one after the other. It's just another sign of how well they work together, and Klaus grins as Obi-Wan slams into him and comes, going impossibly hard inside of Klaus and moaning against his ear in a way that makes him shiver all over.

"Stars," Klaus breathes out happily, reaching down to take Obi's hand by the wrist and gently pull it away from his cock. His skirt falls down around him, lifted only where Obi-Wan's cock is still inside of him, and Klaus licks some of his come from the pad of Obi's index finger before giving the tip of it a playful bite.

As much as he enjoys having Obi's cock inside of him after he comes, it's not the best position for them to linger in. Klaus shifts until Obi-Wan slips out of him, letting his skirt fall back into place as he turns in Obi's arms to give him a soft kiss, smiling into it as he reaches over to grab some tissues from a box on the dresser and clean the come from his hand.

"Well, you certainly don't feel chilly anymore," he says happily, nipping sharply at his bottom lip. "That's a very delightful cure, I must say."

"Nor are you too warm," Obi-Wan says into the kiss, then smoothing his clean hand down Klaus's back as he moves away. They both feel properly temperate, just as they should, perhaps a bit warm from their activities, but nothing excessive like Klaus had felt earlier. And the cold is gone from Obi-Wan's hands and feet, his skin no longer prickled with goosebumps.

He removes the condom and discards of it properly, then wipes his hands clean of anything left behind. They'll return to the party, he thinks, and perhaps even mingle without the other, but he has an idea this isn't the last time they'll be in one of these more private rooms this evening.

Or perhaps they just won't last very long at the party at all.

"You're coming home with me, yes?" he asks, looking over at Klaus with a small smile and an arched eyebrow.

"Oh, I'm plenty warm," Klaus says with a wink, grinning and stealing another kiss before Obi-Wan moves away. The warmth he's feeling isn't from any magical drink. It's just from him, and this, and lingering pleasure coursing through him like a pleasant sort of fizz.

"Of course I am." It had never occurred to Klaus that he wouldn't be spending the night with Obi after this. "Don't think that you're getting rid of me tomorrow, either."

The room has a small half-bath that Klaus hadn't noticed before, so he's able to duck in and go through the inelegant action of wiping lube from his ass before washing his hands. He looks predictably flushed and wildly pleased, but his make up is relative unscathed, aside from the smear of his gloss, so he wipes it away and fixes a few stray hairs before going back out to Obi-Wan.

He collects the condoms and lube and tucks them neatly back into Obi-Wan's pockets, and then sticks his hand into the pocket on the other side of his jacket to extract a tube of lip gloss. He winks and quickly applies some, smacking his lips together before replacing the tube.

"Well, do I look decent?" Klaus asks, smoothing his skirt down and fixing the hem of his shirt before giving Obi-Wan a silly pose, hands on his hips with his lips pursed.

"Mm, absolutely wonderful," Obi-Wan answers, appraising the skirt to make sure he hasn't wrinkled or stained it, but Klaus looks more than simply decent. Obi-Wan hadn't realized the lip gloss was in his suit jacket either and yet none of this surprises him. Klaus is prepared for anything and he finds it wonderfully charming, patting down his pockets to make sure everything is in place.

"And how do I look?" he asks, holding his arms out and turning for Klaus to look at hm. "Everything where it's meant to be?"

Klaus had been the one to dress him in the first place, after all, and Obi-Wan figures he'll be the best judge to make sure everything looks like it's supposed to.

"Impeccable," Klaus says with a soft smile, stepping in to straighten the lapels of Obi-Wan's jacket before reaching up to sweep that stubborn bit of hair back into place. There's a smudge of shimmering gold on Obi-Wan's lips and Klaus smirks as he rubs it away from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, but otherwise leaves it.

He reaches up to put his hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders just to simply look at him for a moment, eyes crinkling at the corners as he lets himself feel a rush of affection. Every day spent with him is better than the last, it seems. He never stops surprising Klaus, never stops making him want to be someone better than he is.

"Let's go down there and get something to eat, hm? I've worked up quite an appetite," Klaus says, taking his hand and threading their fingers together. He opens the door and leads them out of the bedroom just as another couple is leaving one across the hall. The woman blushes and the guy preens, and Klaus gives them a lazy salute as they head down the hall in front of them.

"And more drinks," he adds, looking over at Obi-Wan with a happy grin. "Just to see what happens. Maybe I'll get to be the chilly one next time."

"I wonder if there are simpler ways to do away with the effects of the drinks," Obi-Wan muses as they head back down the stairs and rejoin the party. He's distracted by the possibility now, not paying attention entirely to the other people, and while a Jedi is always aware of his surroundings, Obi-Wan is detached from them a little.

"Not that I would rather another option," he adds, smiling over at Klaus. "But you have to expect not everyone is going to want to engage in such things, especially with someone they may have only just met."

He doubts he would if it were anyone but Klaus. Perhaps Jyn, though even that seems unlikely, given their current location. He doesn't quite imagine the two of them sneaking upstairs like he just had with Klaus.

"Oh, I would hope so. I can't imagine that Magnus would do that to people," Klaus says as they climb down the stairs. He's still barefoot, and he can't quite remember which table he kicked his shoes under, but he kind of prefers it. "I'm sure a little cuddle would have done the trick. We were just very thorough."

Once they rejoin the party, Klaus stops to grab two flutes of sparkling wine, handing one over to Obi before taking a long sip from his own, holding his breath for a moment. Nothing happens in regards to his temperature, and he's relieved. It wouldn't have been the worst thing, but he does want to enjoy the party for at least a little before they inevitably go rushing back upstairs, drinks or not.

"I think these are safe," he says, linking his arm back through Obi's as they make their way gradually towards the refreshments table. "It's been a long time since I've been to a party like this. I hear there's a big shindig on New Year's Eve, too. Up on the mountain."

An idea comes to him in a dizzy rush, and he tries not to feel nervous or overthink, focusing instead only on what he wants. "Would you like to go with me to that?"

"He did tell me it was all meant in good fun," Obi-Wan agrees and nothing he's seen of Magnus would suggest otherwise in that regard. He has a young daughter who is both kind and smart, and Obi-Wan knows very well how much the parental figure in a child's life contributes to such attributes. Catarina is a sweet child because her fathers are teaching her to be good and kind.

So the idea that he would purposely make anyone uncomfortable isn't something Obi-Wan can imagine of him. Perhaps if they've earned it through their own cruelty. That he can see.

"New Year's Eve?" he asks, unable to help his smile, both at the revelation of yet another holiday celebrated in this city and at Klaus's invitation. When he had asked Klaus to accompany him to this party, there had been some distress on Klaus's part, a fear, perhaps, that Obi-Wan might expect too much of him, so to be asked now feels especially significant.

"Yes," he says, his smile growing. "I would love that."

"Yes, this time of year is just littered with holidays," Klaus says with an amused laugh that turns into a pleased smile at Obi's eager acceptance of his invitation, without even knowing what it is. It makes Klaus feel a little flushed, but this time it isn't from worry or fear.

He's just happy.

"It's exactly what it sounds like. Celebrating the start of a new calendar year," Klaus explains, taking another sip from his glass. "Mostly it's an excuse for a party. You dress up and drink and the tradition is that there's a countdown at midnight."

Klaus empties his glass and sets it on an empty table so that he can turn and put his hands on Obi-Wan's hips. "And then at midnight you're supposed to cheer and make a lot of noise, sometimes there's fireworks, but most importantly, you kiss who you're with at midnight, and it brings you good luck."

He's never bought into that before. Oh, he's kissed people at midnight, but he never thought it would bring him luck. But if it's Obi-Wan that he's kissing, Obi-Wan who chooses to be with him, then, well. He's already pretty lucky, isn't he?

"On Coruscant the transition to a new year on the Galactic calendar is celebrated be a Fete Week," Obi-Wan tells Klaus. "Jedi never participated in the celebrations, as they were usually quite uninhibited, but we were often present as peace keepers, making sure no one was hurt during the festivities."

It's interesting, he thinks, how the world Darrow is in and the galaxy he's from have some similarities. But in the end, no matter how similar they may be in some ways, Obi-Wan has never participated in any of the holidays. It simply wasn't something the Jedi ever did and now he finds he doesn't really know where to begin.

Perhaps the party is the best place.

He takes another sip from his glass as Klaus turns toward him, then grins against the rim of it. "Does it work?" he asks, once he's swallowed the wine. "Have you had very lucky years when you've kissed someone at midnight?"

"Well, this year one Jedi will," Klaus assures him, sliding his hands around to the small of Obi's back and giving him a warm smile. He can imagine Obi-Wan standing along the edges of a wild crowd in his robes, straight-backed and confident. Unattainably handsome.

But he also knows what Obi-Wan looks like when he laughs, when he's loose from liquor and arousal. Klaus knows that being a Jedi is something of infinite importance to Obi-Wan, and he respects that. But he also knows that Obi-Wan deserves to let loose and have some fun. He can do both of these things.

"Mm, I don't know about that," Klaus says with a laugh, kissing the tip of Obi-Wan's nose, and then the corner of his mouth. "Maybe I just haven't kissed the right person at midnight yet."

"Someone who is naturally lucky themselves?" he asks with an innocent expression. That isn't what Klaus means, not remotely, but Obi-Wan can't help himself. It's in his nature to tease, usually in a manner he knows it at least mostly kind, unless it's Anakin, at which point he thinks he can hardly be blamed for going a little bit further.

"Can luck be passed on like that?" he continues. "Through a kiss? I would think such a thing wasn't possible. We'll have to find you someone especially lucky this year and experiment a little with it."

Obi-Wan is teasing him, and Klaus rolls his eyes fondly, because he loves it. Life is too short to be serious all the time, and while he knows that Obi-Wan is more than capable of sincerity when the need arises, he likes that he knows how to be silly when the need arises for that, too.

"Mm, I dunno. Maybe I'll have to kiss a lot of people," he says easily, stroking his fingers along Obi's jaw, just under the line of his beard. "How do we tell if they're lucky?"

There, peeking just above the collar of Obi's dark shirt, is a fading bruise from Klaus's mouth. There always seems to be one there, in various states of healing, and Klaus slides his fingers down to it, pressing lightly against the bruise as he walks Obi-Wan back towards the dance floor. "You do know how much I like to experiment."

"Hmm," he says thoughtfully, as if they might be able to tell the level of someone's luck just by looking at them. A little shiver works through him when Klaus presses on his throat and he wonders if there's another bruise there, left behind from Klaus's mouth. It makes him smile and he finishes his drink, then reaches up to cover Klaus's fingers with his own.

"You know, I'm not sure there is a way to tell," he decides, realizing they're on the dance floor now. "But I suppose I must be lucky if you're wanting to dance with me."

He has a feeling dancing, as it were, must be the same even across galaxies. There's only so much that can be done. He's been taught how to dance, he assumes Klaus has, too, even if their worlds are a little different.

"If that's the case, I suppose that I'll just have to kiss you, then," Klaus says happily, putting one hand on Obi's hip and lifting his other hand into the air next to them. "Another thing our father made us learn was ballroom dancing, in case it was ever useful on mission."

He leads Obi-Wan into a slow, simple waltz that's vaguely in time with the music, more preoccupied with staring at him than keeping with the beat. Dancing seems like something the Jedi would have learned, perhaps for similar reasons, and he doesn't even think that Obi-Wan would mind being led by a man in a very nice skirt.

"This is more fun that standing off to the side, isn't it?" Klaus asks, giving Obi's hip a squeeze and then lifting their joined hands to turn him in a playful twirl, laughing as he pulls him back in close. "You're no wallflower, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Even if you are a Jedi."