He gives the most subtle nod, bracing himself and retracting his panel. A few drops of lubricant drip to the berth from his charge swollen valve, and his spike extends ridge by ridge. It brushes against Wing’s, drawing a low, staticy moan from Ambulon. His hips slide forward, spike rutting more insistently against spike.

“How do you want to…” He trails off slightly; unsure. He covers it by kissing Wing deeply, sliding his tongue against against his partner’s in time with that of their spikes. Slowly, he feels the charge begin to pull him under, mind becoming slightly more foggy.