Being dragged and tugged around in the berth is familiar to Cyclonus and he slips easily into following Wing's lead, egged on by the hunger boiling in him. Hearing 'please' in this situation, however, is completely foreign to him and he can't help but laugh, the noise a deep rumble as he leans down to bite at Wing's back.

He doesn't have it in him to tease, not with the ache of charge rampaging through his systems. Grabbing Wing's hips tight, he forces them still for a moment. Just long enough for the tip of his spike to find the entrance to Wing's port. Then he drags those hips tight against him, snapping his own forward to meet them with a ring of metal on metal, burying himself deep in the slick heat.

A ragged gasp of relief escapes him as his spike throbs inside of Wing. How he'd needed this.