Klaus smiles but doesn’t say anything more. It’s still a fresh ache, and he already feels so vulnerable. He takes a breath and closes his eyes, focusing on the rhythmic swipe of Obi-Wan’s thumb against his smooth cheek, back and forth until he doesn’t feel as if he’s about to be swept away by his emotions.

“We made quite a mess,” he says as he opens his eyes, smile turning sky as he squeezes Obi-Wan’s waist between his thighs. There’s a pleasant ache in them, right up through the core of him, and Klaus lets out a pleased hum and bites his lip, stretching his arms up over his head in a pose that he’s sure must look good (in his own humble opinion). “But I suppose I’ll have to pace myself or I’ll wear you out before nightfall, old man.”