It feels so completely different from how things had been between them earlier, the way they had been almost desperate, Obi-Wan pressed to the door of the small supply room, Klaus behind him, thrusting into him. It's not less special, no less good, but so different and Obi-Wan has to muffle another gasping moan against Klaus's mouth.

What an incredible thing, that they can be so many different things to one another.

Shifting his weight back onto his knees, Obi-Wan slips his free arm around Klaus's shoulders so he can hold them close together. He doesn't want to stop kissing him, not now, when everything feels so intimate and vulnerable, raw in a way he hadn't entirely been expecting. Had he and Satine ever been together like this, he wonders? It doesn't seem so. They never had the time, the privacy, the space. They had hidden moments, whispers in shadows, furtive interactions that were always coloured slightly by the possibility of trouble. None of that is here with them now. There is only love and the desire to make one another feel good.

Obi-Wan holds Klaus close, thrusting into him now with a deep, steady rhythm, stroking his cock at the same time. He presses kisses to wherever he can reach, to the corner of Klaus's mouth, the edge of his jaw, the smooth skin of the throat. "I love you," he whispers, glad to be able to say it.