"Stars, I love you," Obi-Wan answers on a heavy exhale, although it isn't as if Klaus has asked him a question. It's only that Klaus speaks, he touches Obi-Wan, he merely exists, and Obi-Wan feels his chest expanding to fit more love, more care for a universe that allowed such a man to be born, to flourish, to have found him.

After infinite sadness, this is where he is.

Klaus's thrusts and strokes are both sure and quick and still loving. It doesn't take long before Obi-Wan's breath comes quicker, his muscles grow tighter, he can feel his balls drawing closer, his entire body coiled like a spring about to snap.

When his orgasm rolls over him, Obi-Wan groans, his hands grasping at Klaus, trying to touch, to hold him close. He comes on Klaus's hand, on himself, his stomach and his chest, and he knows he'll need to shower sooner rather than later, get that out of his chest hair, but right now all he can think of is how wonderful he feels.