"I haven't the slightest idea what you might mean," Obi-Wan answers innocently as he drapes his arms over Klaus's shoulders, their bodies moving together as if they'd rehearsed this when they most certainly have not. At least not in a traditional sense of rehearsal, he supposes, because they've gotten plenty of practice in moving together through other forms.

In the space of a moment, Klaus brings all of Obi-Wan's focus back to the two of them. If they're still being watched, he's aware of it only peripherally, in the way he's always aware of his surroundings. A hold over, he knows, from being at war for so long, from being raised as he was, trained as he is. It isn't a bad thing, it serves its purpose, but right now he wants to be solely focused on Klaus.

"We're just dancing," he murmurs against Klaus's temple, fingers combing through his curls, tugging them gently to one side so he can duck his head and press a quick kiss to Klaus's shoulder.