When Klaus wakes up, it takes a moment for the events of the morning to come back to him. He rolls onto his back in the empty bed and reaches up to cup his breasts, holding them as he yawns just to make sure that they're still there. He's tender between his legs in a pleasant, sticky sort of way that makes him think about how glad he is that he'll only have a uterus for a week or so.
Obi-Wan isn't in bed with him, but Klaus isn't surprised by that. He gets up and goes into the bathroom to relieve himself, and makes a face at his reflection in the mirror as he washes his hands. His hair is longer and less curly than it usually is, and it is currently a goddamn mess. After a few minutes of wrestling with his brush and the blowdryer, it looks marginally better.
On his way down the hall, he pulls on a soft pink robed hemmed with lace, and he smiles at how the material drapes over his new curves. He has tried to imagine what he might have looked like in a body like this, and it's almost comforting to know for sure. This body doesn't feel right, but it doesn't exactly feel wrong, either. He still feels like Klaus.
Klaus is unsurprised to find Obi-Wan meditating in the corner, legs crossed and eyes closed. Surely, he knows that Klaus is there even if he isn't acknowledging it, but he doesn't feel ignored. It almost feels like he's waiting for Klaus to set the tone, and he appreciates it.
"You really would making a killing if you taught a yoga class," Klaus murmurs as he looks Obi-Wan over appreciatively. He can just imagine how women (and men) would flock to pay money just to see him like this, to bask in the calming warmth of his energy. It feels almost selfish to have it all for himself, but he certainly isn't complaining.
He strides closer and steps onto the cushions, shifting to stand astride Obi-Wan's thighs and then sinking slowly to his knees, cradling Obi-Wan's face as he settles into the man's lap, feeling small and safe and happy.
"Hi, Mr. Jedi," he says in a low, feminine voice, stroking his fingers along Obi's beard before leaning in until their mouths are nearly touching. "Did you miss me?"
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Obi-Wan isn't in bed with him, but Klaus isn't surprised by that. He gets up and goes into the bathroom to relieve himself, and makes a face at his reflection in the mirror as he washes his hands. His hair is longer and less curly than it usually is, and it is currently a goddamn mess. After a few minutes of wrestling with his brush and the blowdryer, it looks marginally better.
On his way down the hall, he pulls on a soft pink robed hemmed with lace, and he smiles at how the material drapes over his new curves. He has tried to imagine what he might have looked like in a body like this, and it's almost comforting to know for sure. This body doesn't feel right, but it doesn't exactly feel wrong, either. He still feels like Klaus.
Klaus is unsurprised to find Obi-Wan meditating in the corner, legs crossed and eyes closed. Surely, he knows that Klaus is there even if he isn't acknowledging it, but he doesn't feel ignored. It almost feels like he's waiting for Klaus to set the tone, and he appreciates it.
"You really would making a killing if you taught a yoga class," Klaus murmurs as he looks Obi-Wan over appreciatively. He can just imagine how women (and men) would flock to pay money just to see him like this, to bask in the calming warmth of his energy. It feels almost selfish to have it all for himself, but he certainly isn't complaining.
He strides closer and steps onto the cushions, shifting to stand astride Obi-Wan's thighs and then sinking slowly to his knees, cradling Obi-Wan's face as he settles into the man's lap, feeling small and safe and happy.
"Hi, Mr. Jedi," he says in a low, feminine voice, stroking his fingers along Obi's beard before leaning in until their mouths are nearly touching. "Did you miss me?"