"I'm sorry," Wing says tightly, taking a step back. His voice is strangled with static and his optics are wide, drawn helplessly down to First Aid's fingers between his legs, biting his lip and shuddering helplessly as his fans roar to life all at once, flight engine rumbling loud in the tiled space. He shuts them down deliberately and presses a hand briefly over his mouth, wresting control of himself with an effort.

"Should I--I can leave, if you'd rather. I just wanted..." To help, he nearly says, but his voice dies in his throat as his optics stray lower again and he bites his lip, shivering all over.