"Oh," Wing says, sounding a little stunned before he's making his way across the room, careful not to slip. He stops in front of First Aid and reaches out, touching soft hands to his plating, stroking down his sides before he drops to his knees to nuzzle at the center of First Aid's breastplate.

"Please," he manages, trying not to sound too needy, a shudder wracking through his frame. One hand slides up, taking First Aid's and drawing it to his mouth to close gently on slick fingers, making a raw, needy sound as he sucks them clean. His free hand closes on First Aid's spike to stroke, slow and firm and steady. His mouth pulls back once First Aid's fingers are clean, pressing hungry kisses down First Aid's belly to vent scorching air against his spike. His mouth brushes briefly before he speaks against First Aid's hip. "Please let me--I want to. Please say yes."