One wouldn't think it to look at them, that they have much in common. Klaus is beautiful, confident, utterly sure of himself in what he presents to the world, often dressing to draw attention. Obi-Wan, in contrast, dresses very plainly, in neutral colours, is often quiet, content to observe rather than engage. But beneath the surface of them both are similarities that run deep. Warmth and empathy, an abhorrence of violence, despite their lives and what they're both trained to do. The deep sort of loss few people understand. Both, too, are terribly flirtatious, as if they're unable to stop, and both, no matter who they may be flirting with at the time, still seem to turn back to one another.

"Mm, peas in a pod," he agrees with a grin, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against Klaus's throat before he picks up his drink and takes a sip. "Delightful, thank you."

He looks around the club, finds another few gazes turned in their directly, two women in particular who keep glancing at Klaus, and Obi-Wan smiles a little, fingers dipping briefly past the waist of Klaus's pants to stroke the sensitive skin just above the tailbone. "Shall we sit with our drinks? Or attempt to dance while holding them?"