"I've become predictable," he replies in a low whisper, smiling as he keeps his eyes on the young Dustin Hoffman on the screen, even though all of his attention is on Obi-Wan's hand high up on his chest. When Obi-Wan's head ducks down, Klaus tips his to the side to give him more room, humming softly at that gentle brush of his mouth. It feels a bit like a tease, the barely there touch of his soft lifts and rasp of his mustache.

It's wild to Klaus that he can still feel so worked up just from this, even in this new body in this semi-public place. With every other person that he's been with (saved for one), the spark fades so quickly. Things become boring and routine and stop feeling good, stop being excited, and Klaus bails because he craves that excitement. He needs it.

And now he has it, somehow after all this time. When Obi-Wan touches him, it still feels new and exciting but it comes with something else, too. With Obi-Wan, he has stability and safety, comfort, all of those things that he convinced himself that he didn't want. He's loved, and he can feel it with every touch of Obi-Wan's fingers dragging so softly across his skin. He feels loved and he feels warm, breathing in deep as he tips his head back against the seat and closes his eyes just to take it all in.