“You certainly have not,” Klaus replies with a fondly exasperated laugh, tipping his cheek up for the kiss and watching as Obi-Wan bustles about the kitchen. He could help, and sometimes he does, but right now he thinks that he’s too distracted and would probably get in the way. That, and he does want to be waited on.

The coffee starts to brew and Klaus nearly moans at the smell, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as he breathes in deep. This addiction is a socially acceptable one, a vice that no one has ever looked down on him before. He finds that kind of funny. Most people are addicted to something. The question makes him lift his head and look at Obi-Wan, raising a brow as he taps his nails on the counter.

“The lady would like to sometime not be treated as if she deserves anything less than the world,” Klaus replies, biting his lip out of worry that Obi-Wan might misunderstand him. There are certain things that Klaus are into in bed, and it used to be so easy to go get those itches scratched without trying too hard. But now he’s only sleeping with one person, and he has to use his words.

“Like in a hot way,” he adds, smiling almost awkwardly and gesturing at the pan on the stove. “In bed, I mean. Please always continue to make me eggs. No cheese on mine, though. No telling what it’d do to this body.”