Wing makes a sweet, hungry little sound in his throat as Cyclonus pets at his helm, shivering all over and leaning into the touches, an encouraging rumble vibrating low in his chassis. He pulls back after a while, looking dazed, his optics flushed bright with charge as he licks up Cyclonus' length and swallows him whole. His mouth works steadily, slicking delicate plating to make the slide easier until he can press his lips to Cyclonus' baseplate and swallow thickly around him, the back of his intake working against the sensor-dense tip.

One hand strays down, between Cyclonus' legs to touch softly at wet mesh, petting at external sensors before his fingertips press to Cyclonus' anterior node to stroke in short, firm little pushes, his free arm barely restraining Cyclonus at all anymore. Wing is aching, unreleased charge starting to build higher and higher, coiled low in his array, but he doesn't pull back or let up. It feels good, his mouth full and his fingers slick and Cyclonus touching him gently and making noise for him, a particularly fervent groan raking a shudder through him like its his own spike being sucked.