He gets a sense, that like this, with Deadlock in control and able to escape at any time, it's better than if Wing had tried to pin him down and express himself in no uncertain terms.

It's still hard to concentrate with Deadlock so tantalizingly close, hard not to want to reach out in every way and pull the mech down to him, to let their fields mesh and limbs tangle. His fingers flex slowly, as if reminding them both that he's restrained but not bothering to free himself in the least.

Wing smiles, but not the kind of smile he gives to strangers or even friends. A bit shy maybe, a little coy, a touch uncertain but defiantly interested. "You kissed me. I...want to kiss you back." It's hard, exceptionally hard, not to punctuate that statement with a hip wiggle.