Wing hums low in his throat, almost a purr over his idling engine, and leans into the gentle touch at his helm.

"Yes, please. That sounds lovely." He kisses at Mayday's jawline, nibbling softly as he presses closer, just gathering him up. "Would you like me on my back, or vice versa?" His lips find the edge of Mayday's faceplate, kissing gently. "And is there anything else you want?"