terriblymisguided | (no subject)

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obi-wan

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The first time Klaus walked into this club, he did it with the intention of getting absolutely plastered and finding someone to go home with for drunk, sloppy sex that would distract him for a few hours. He did not accomplish either of those things. Before he could get too drunk, he spotted someone interesting and was taken back to his place for some very fantastic mind-blowing sex that immediately set a bar so high that no one else can reach it.

If, on that first night, someone told Klaus that the next time he'd be walking into this club would be on the arm of that very same man, some three months later, he'd have laughed in their face.

But that is exactly what's happening. When Klaus realized how long they'd been doing this, he told Obi-Wan that he thought it would be fun to go back to that club for another dance. It only occurred to him hours later what he had just proposed: celebrating an anniversary. Thankfully, he was at home by the time it happened, and he was able to freak out and talk himself back down in private.

In Vietnam, Klaus counted the months. It was a way to keep track of how long he'd been away from his own timeline, and also how long he'd had Dave in his life. Each month was silently acknowledged, quietly celebrated and agonized over in equal measure, but it was never anything he gave a voice to, or talked to Dave about. He just counted them until he got to ten, and then there were no more.

By the time that Obi-Wan picks him up, Klaus has calmed down (thanks in part to a blunt he panic-smoked on his balcony) and dressed himself in black leather pants and a wine-colored button down shirt, with only the button at his sternum fastened. Seeing Obi-Wan makes him feel as excited as he did when he first mentions it, and he feels silly for getting himself so worked up. They're just going to have some fun.

They arrive at the club and get their wrists stamped, and Klaus is more then relieved to get inside where it's warmer. The music thumps in his chest and Klaus grins, bouncing a little as he grabs Obi-Wan's hand and drags him inside.

"Why did you come here that first night?" Klaus asks once they're at the bar, tilting his head to look at him curiously. "This isn't your usual scene."

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As ever, Klaus looks incredible. Obi-Wan knows he doesn't compare, wearing his denim trousers and a plain t-shirt, he knows when people glance their way and their gazes linger, it's Klaus they're looking at, not him, but he doesn't mind. There is no jealousy, no worry Klaus will find one of them more interesting and decide to end the night elsewhere. He wouldn't do that and even if he were to come back here alone another night and find someone to spend time with, Obi-Wan still wouldn't be jealous.

What Klaus does when they're not together doesn't change how it feels when they are together and Obi-Wan knows, without them even having to speak of it, how meaningful it's become. Whatever they experience outside of this, it doesn't make it less meaningful and he has a strong feeling anything else either of them might have doesn't come close to this level.

"How do you know this isn't my usual scene?" he asks playfully, grinning over at Klaus. "I might have spent many a night in a bar just like this on Coruscant." He actually had, although not of his own volition, instead being dragged around by fellow Padawans who had needed to let loose a little outside of all their training. Obi-Wan had always enjoyed himself, though Klaus is right, it had never been his first choice.

"I was curious," he admits. "Darrow is different and similar to place I've been, all these contradictory things about it, and I was still deep in exploration mode when we met. I visited many different places during those first few months."

Some had been unintentional, like the place he'd walked into where everyone had been wearing leather and some had been carrying whips. He'd surveyed the scene for a long moment, spoken to a very kind young woman who had asked if he was interested in learning more and he had declined politely and left. But he doesn't regret any of the places he's been, especially not this one.

"Because I've spent more time with you than anyone else in this city," Klaus tells him, quirking a brow as he reaches out to tap his fingertips under Obi-Wan's chin, twisting playfully at his beard. "I know you."

He knows that Obi-Wan enjoys nights out like this from time to time, but he knows that he's also happy with a quiet night in with tea and a book. He's even helping Klaus to appreciate these quiet nights a little better, though he still struggles with them a bit. Places like this are easier for him, with all their noise and chaos. He's still learning to be still.

"You went out exploring and found me," Klaus says with a fond chuckle, resting his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder as he twists to gesture for the bartender. "More than you bargained for, I bet."

"Oh, much more than I bargained for," Obi-Wan agrees. "Though I can't say I'm particularly upset about it."

He had never expected to love anyone again. Not the way he had loved Satine. Of course he loves Anakin and Ahsoka, he had loved his men, had complicated feelings of camaraderie and affection and attraction for Cody, but no one has ever come close to Satine and the way she made him feel. Not until Klaus.

He is so much more than Obi-Wan had bargained for.

"But then again, I found many things," he muses, leaning against Klaus. "I discovered the Hideout, with the very loud, wonderfully aggressive music. Such a brilliant way to expel that anger so many people feel, so artistic and heartfelt." It's simply another way of refusing to let strong emotions be in control. These men and women write music and lyrics encompassing that anger and throwing it away, taking away its power. He thinks it's brilliant.

"Ooh, I did love that place," Klaus says happily, curling an arm casually around Obi-Wan's waist as he leans in to order two Purple Rains, just to satisfy Obi-Wan's love of colorful cocktails. He thinks that it might have even been the violently purple drink that Obi-Wan ordered the night they met.

"I feel similarly about that kind of music," he says once he's turned back, smiling warmly at Obi-Wan, unsurprised that he would understand the genre of music that most people dismiss as noise. He gets right to the heart of it, and Klaus can't help but to give him a fond squeeze. "There aren't many types of music that I dislike, but metal and punk are what got me through my angriest years."

He leans in close to nuzzle behind Obi-Wan's ear, biting playfully at the lobe. "We could go back. We could listen to good some music while I watch you dance with cute goth girls again. That was very fun."

"You did enjoy watching that, didn't you?" Obi-Wan asks, feeling pleased and a little flushed with the memory of that evening. The woman had been lovely, there's absolutely no denying that, she had been beautiful and he had enjoyed talking to her as well as the music she had played, but his eyes had been on Klaus the entire evening.

No matter where they go, he thinks, no matter who else is present, he only has eyes for Klaus. It's a thrilling realization and he smiles to himself, his eyes on the bartender as they wait.

"I would like that, though," he adds, his hand against the small of Klaus's back, fingertips rubbing slow circles through his shirt. "There are very few places I've found in this city I don't enjoy, to be quite frank. I've rarely had such an opportunity to simply be in the past and I like to spend most of my time being productive in whatever way I can be. Even if it means simply exploring whatever I can."

"Oh, I really did," Klaus says, because there was something deeply arousing about watching Obi-Wan dance with that woman, and knowing that he would be the one that Obi-Wan left with afterward. It isn't a possessiveness, or a jealousy. If he had to describe it, Klaus would probably say that it was due to the awe in knowing that Obi-Wan would pick him over anyone else. A room full of beautiful, interesting people, and Obi-Wan picks him every time, because Klaus is who he wants, not just once, but over and over again. He'll never get used to that, he thinks. He'll never take it for granted.

"We really do have so much in common." He smiles at the thought. He also loves to explore, and has scoured this city to find interesting things to do. Their reasoning may be a little different. Obi-Wan wants to be productive, and Klaus wants desperately not to be bored. It all shakes out kind of the same, though. They're well suited.

"You'll have to catch me up on whatever gems I've missed." Their drinks are set down, and Klaus quickly puts down enough cash to cover them before sliding Obi-Wan's glass over to him with an amused smile. "You can get the next round."

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?"

"Peas in a pod," Klaus agrees, laughing fondly and scrunches his nose as Obi-Wan's beard tickles the sensitive skin under his jaw. He picks up his own drink and takes a sip, nodding at the taste of it as Obi-Wan's fingers slide into the tight waistband of his pants. It's not overtly sexual, but more the action of someone who his confident in his affections. He does it because he knows that he can, and it makes Klaus smile.

"Hm, it depends," he says after glancing around and spotting the women staring blatantly in their direction. He smiles to himself, and then tips his ass up into Obi-Wan's hand as he turns to raise an eyebrow at him, sipping casually from his drink. "Are you planning on continuing this little show that you're putting on for our rapt audience?"

He's teasing, but honestly, Klaus wouldn't mind putting on a show. He'd mind it about as much as he minds having Obi-Wan's hand down his pants, which is to say not at all.

"I suspect it's you they're looking at," Obi-Wan points out with a smile, giving another little stroke with the tips of his fingers. "You do attract attention wherever you go, looking as wonderful as you do. If they're looking at me at all, I suspect it's due to mere jealousy."

He's not insecure about his own physical appearance, Obi-Wan is aware he is objectively handsome, especially in a place such as Darrow, where human appearances seem to be the prevailing ones. Even in his own galaxy, he had been considered handsome by those who were attracted to humans, but he still believes he doesn't hold a candle to Klaus.

"And since it's you they're looking at, I think that decision is yours to make," he continues, looking more and more amused by the second.

"You do not give yourself nearly enough credit," Klaus drawls out, rolling his eyes in fond exasperation as he sips from his drink. Sure, Obi-Wan doesn't make a spectacle out of himself like Klaus, doesn't line his eyes with black or put gloss on his lips to make people look at him like Klaus does, but he is absurdly beautiful, and carries with him a quiet confidence that makes him incredibly desirable.

Even on that first night, Klaus could tell that Obi-Wan knew who he was and what he wanted, and Klaus very much wanted Obi-Wan to want him. Partially because the man hadn't seemed to want for anything at all.

"Well, luckily for them, we're a package deal," Klaus winks and reaches back to grip Obi-Wan's wrist, holding it out so he can twist back and rest his back against Obi-Wan's chest. He pulls Obi-Wan's arm across his waist to set his hand down on Klaus's sharp hip, humming happily to himself as he tips his head to the side and takes another sip from his cocktail.

The women are still watching them, quite obvious in their attention, and Klaus starts to move his hips to the music a little, reaching back to grip Obi-Wan's thigh as he tips his martini glass back to finish off his drink.

Oh, he likes that terribly much more than he ought to. A package deal. As if one doesn't come without the other and he supposes tonight, at the very least, that much is true.

With Klaus's back pressed to his chest -- his ass framed against his hips, too -- Obi-Wan laughs softly, settling his hand where Klaus places it, his thumb brushing his hipbone as Klaus begins to move. He finishes his drink quickly and Obi-Wan has to take a few more quick sips in order to keep up, because he rather suspects he's going to need both hands free before long.

"Dancing then," he says as he uses his hips to press Klaus forward, away from the bar and toward the dance floor. That is gives the women watching a better view isn't his entire purpose, but it also isn't not the reason he's moving them. Another few sips of his drink finishes it off and Obi-Wan leaves it on a table as they pass by, then slips his now freed hand under the material of Klaus's barely-buttoned shirt to splay across his stomach.

"Dancing!" Klaus laughs as Obi-Wan directs him forward, moving easily towards the dance floor. Once they find a spot and Obi-Wan has both hands on him, Klaus starts to move his hips with purpose, rocking back against Obi-Wan as his hand slides up along his stomach, dragging the material aside to expose the cut of his hip as he rolls it in time with the music.

Obi-Wan is good at dancing, letting his body feel the music and roll with it, and the two do them are always in tandem. It just works, and Klaus can't help but to get deeply aroused each time because he knows what this body feels like when it moves like this without any clothes on, when it's pressing him down and moving inside of him.

With one hand on Obi-Wan's hip, he reaches back with the other to curl it around the back of Obi-Wan's neck, grinning as he turns his head to close his teeth gently against the bolt of his jaw. "Are they looking? They should be be." He let out a throaty chuckle and tugs playfully with his hair. "It's a hell of a show."

As Klaus begins to move, Obi-Wan closes his eyes. By now, after all this time, they move together easily, having learned each others' bodies, and Obi-Wan uses the moment to go inward. It's certainly not what some might consider a typical state of meditation, but the pulse of the music, the movement of their bodies, and the heat of Klaus pressed against him relaxes Obi-Wan in ways he can usually only achieve through long periods of meditation.

He's very present. Very aware. He can feel every shift, every nuance of the moment.

At Klaus's question, he opens his eyes again, smiling almost lazily before he shifts his gaze toward the women. They're still looking at them, whispering to each other, and Obi-Wan's smile grows slightly before he turns his attention back to Klaus.

"They are," he confirms. "But who can blame them. I can only feel the way you're moving and it's mesmerizing."

"Package deal, remember?" Klaus grins, tipping his head back to nip at the soft skin under Obi-Wan's ear before he pulls away and spins around, tossing his hair over one shoulder as he presses himself to Obi-Wan again. His arms lift to curl around Obi-Wan's shoulders, pulling him close and sliding a knee between his thighs.

"I'd rather just look at you." He smiles and leans in to kiss him, one soft press of his mouth and then something a little deeper, licking at the seam of his lips before pulling away. They're moving together in a way that's probably a little obscene, but they are putting a show, after all. They might as well make it a good one.

"I don't know why we do this to ourselves," he says with a laugh, moving one hand down to the base of Obi-Wan's spine. "We never last very long."

"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.

"Is that all we're doing?" Klaus asks with a grin, tipping his head to the side as Obi-Wan moves his hair. The kiss makes him smile and he lifts his head again to press another soft kiss to Obi-Wan's mouth as they dance, sliding his hand up the back of Obi-Wan's shirt to rest it against the warm skin just above his waistband.

It's still incredible to Klaus just how crazed they still are for each other. Klaus never wants any one particular person this badly even once, let alone over and over again for months, but Obi-Wan is the exception to so many rules, it seems. They've been together dozens of times by now, but Klaus is as hungry as ever, and never fully satisfied. He always wants more of this, of him, of them.

"You dance almost as good as you fuck," Klaus murmurs against Obi-Wan's ear, just because he can, and it might make Obi-Wan flush. This time, it's his turn to dip his fingertips under the waistband of Obi-Wan's jeans, slipping just below the elastic of his underwear to stroke along soft, warm skin. "Almost."

A rush of heat goes through Obi-Wan at the words and he laughs, warm and affectionate, his lips still pressed to Klaus's shoulder. When he lifts his head again, he's smiling brightly and he says, "So should I get better at dancing or worse at sex to even that out?"

In a little flash of arrogance, he has to admit he's not sure they would be capable of having anything even close to bad sex. Whenever they're together, they move with such ease, able to connect in a way Obi-Wan has connected with so few people in his life. Outside of Klaus, he thinks everyone who has been able to connect with him so intimately has been Force sensitive, able to read his intentions before he makes a move, which makes this especially important, he thinks.

"Do you want another drink?" he asks, pressing his mouth close to Klaus's ear to be heard. He hasn't thought about the women who had been watching them earlier in several minutes now, but as they turn, he catches sight of one of them dancing with a different man not far from where they stand now. She's still looking at them and Obi-Wan is surprised to feel a deep sort of bitterness in the Force. It's more than simple jealousy and he understands it a moment later.

He and Klaus are happy.

"I'm not sure that you'd be capable of being worse at sex," Klaus says with a laugh, unknowingly echoing Obi-Wan's thoughts. "Especially not with me as your partner."

They move together so well, almost as if they could read each other's minds. Obi-Wan could read his mind, theoretically, but Klaus doesn't think that he would. Klaus trusts him, wholly and implicitly, and believes that the only time he's reached into Klaus like that have been the times where Klaus has given him permission to do so.

"Yes, another drink would be good," he replies, nodding a bit as moves his hands to grip Obi-Wan by the hips. He always wants another drink, but right now it's more about taking a break from dancing so that they don't drag each other into the restroom. That will probably happen at some point, but he doesn't want it to just yet, not when they just got here.

By the time he takes Obi-Wan's hand to lead him to the bar, he's forgotten all about the women watching them. He doesn't even look out to survey the crowd because when he's with Obi-Wan, no else has any hope of catching his attention, not in any significant way. He is exactly where he wants to be.

"Hello, there," Obi-Wan says when the bartender comes to greet them. "May I have a Blue Lagoon, please? And..." He turns slightly, angling himself toward Klaus expectantly, with absolutely no idea what he might want this evening. Klaus has a great propensity for seeming happy with nearly any option and Obi-Wan doesn't want to assume he knows what Klaus prefers in this particular moment.

Especially not when his own tendency is to want the ridiculously bright and sweet concoctions, not because he dislikes the taste of alcohol and needs to hide it, but because he finds them absolutely entertaining.

Some might see the way Obi-Wan interacts with this new world he's found himself in and consider him naive. It's true a great deal of Darrow is new and unusual to him, but he isn't approaching it with wide-eyed, innocent wonder. He's making an effort, in fact, to find the new and the joyful precisely because he's lived so long in a world without it. There had been happiness in his galaxy, but there had been war, too. So much violence, so much anger, so much regret and loss.

Obi-Wan isn't naive to the difficulties of the world. Just the opposite in fact. He is deeply, terribly aware of them and he is doing everything he can to enjoy life despite them.

The drink order makes Klaus smile in fond amusement, because Obi's love of fruity, colorful cocktails is a delight, even if Klaus doesn't understand how he doesn't get hangovers from all the sugar. Even Klaus, with his many years of practice, does not do well the morning after too much sugary booze.

"Tokyo tea," Klaus says to the bartender, because it has a lot of alcohol for one cocktail without too much sugar, but most importantly: it's very green. The man makes Obi-Wan's drink first, sliding it over to him, and then makes Klaus's.

"Can't let you have all the fun," Klaus tells Obi-Wan as he picks up his neon drink and turns around to rest back against the bar. Obi does seem to try and find joy in everything he can, despite the losses and pain he's experienced. Or perhaps its in spite of it, which would make he and Klaus even more alike. Like Klaus, he refuses to let himself be broken, not entirely. No matter what happens, they keep dancing.

"Oh, that is very green," Obi-Wan observes happily once he's paid for their drinks and tipped appropriately. He sips his drink, turning with Klaus, then takes him by the hand.

Not far from where they are, there's an empty couch, one that's just recently been vacated, and as they move toward it, Obi-Wan may wave his hand toward an older man who looks as if he's trying to get to the same place. The man trips, spilling his drink, and curses as he stares down at himself. Obi-Wan blinks innocently at Klaus, then sinks down onto the empty sofa.

It's small, only room for the two of them, and they're still wedged together when they sit, which Obi-Wan suspects is the point. "This is cozy," he comments with a laugh, crossing one leg over the other, tipped toward Klaus.

Klaus happily lets himself be dragged off by the hand, amenable to whatever Obi-Wan wants to do. With a stiff drink in hand and the world's best company at his side, Klaus wants for nothing.

Their destination becomes clear when a skeevy looking guy trips over his own feet and spills his drink, preventing him from getting to the loveseat that Obi-Wan is heading for. Klaus doesn't think much of it until Obi-Wan looks over at him, blue eyes sparkling and a little too wide. He lets out a delighted laugh as they sink down into the loveseat together, and Klaus feels a burst of affection so strong that it's a wonder his ribcage can even contain it.

"It is. Very lucky we were able to snag it," Klaus says with an innocent smile of his own, though his eyes are sparkling with mischief as he hooks his knee over Obi-Wan's, bouncing his toe in time with the beat of the music as he sips from his drink.

"I suppose we were just in the right place at the right time," Obi-Wan agrees, letting his free hand fall to Klaus's knee atop his own.

There are times when he wonders what his life would have been like had he left the Jedi Order to be with Satine. A Duchess's husband would have been an interesting life in its own right, especially when that Duchess was the ruler of Mandalore. It certainly wouldn't have been quiet, but it wouldn't have had moments like this either. Out in public, Satine would have always needed to be the Duchess of Mandalore above all else, even Obi-Wan's wife. There would be no going to clubs, dancing, drinking, sitting wrapped up in each other like he is with Klaus. He had loved Satine with all her heart and loves her still, he believes he could have been very happy with her, but it would have been a very different happiness than the sort of he has now.

One isn't better than the other. They're just different.

"I was just thinking," he says, seeing no reason not to share this with Klaus. "How I would have likely never been able to do anything like this had I left the Jedi Order and married Satine. We would have always been the Duchess of Mandalore and her husband out in public, never simply Satine Kryze and Obi-Wan Kenobi." He pauses, considering, then laughs a little. "Although Satine also may have gotten annoyed with all the rules and put on a disguise for an evening, so who knows."

For the first time ever, Klaus feels the tiniest kernel of something like jealousy when Obi-Wan mentions Satine. But, like with most jealousy, it comes from a lack of self-esteem, and he quickly shakes it away, ashamed of himself for feeling it at all. No, he will never be a beautiful Duchess, but Klaus still has a deep respect for this woman that Obi-Wan loves so dearly, and he knows that he could never replace her. He wouldn't want to, even if he could.

Jealousy is just a human flaw, and Klaus tells himself that it isn't a mistake to have felt it. That happens from time to time, and it's how he reacts to it that's important. He does what Obi-Wan has taught him. He examines the feeling, sits with it a bit, and then lets it go when he realizes that it's foolish and unnecessary. He thinks Obi-Wan would be proud of him.

"You would have been happy with her," Klaus says, because he can admit that. He can hear it in Obi-Wan's voice. He smiles softly and then takes a long drink from his class, feeling the slight burn of liquor in his throat.

"I think so," Obi-Wan agrees. "A different sort of happy than I was and a different sort than I am now."

But still happy. At least for a time. From what he's learned, Order 66 had applied not only to Jedi, but to all those who were Force sensitive. Even if he left the Jedi Order, a time would have come when the world would have come rushing back to him in an unpreventable manner and he can't possibly know how it might have played out. Who would have survived and who might have died.

There's no point in dwelling on such things. The decisions are made and in the past and no matter what he might think of, there is no undoing what's already been done. He doesn't know that Satine would have been happy either, not knowing he had left the Order for her.

He runs his hand up Klaus's leg, then back down again and smiles over at him. "I'm happy here," he says.