Better may be a matter of perspective. Deadlock would be less confused if Wing was holding him down.

Deadlock feels the way the jet's fingers move under his grip, the actuators firing, fingertips flexing. He doesn't know what he wants--whether the squirmy wiggly feeling in his belly is good or bad.

Except he does, especially in the light of the smile Wing shines up at him. His brow furrows, as though he's feeling his way along some unfamiliar and slippery edge. "....suppose it would be fair." Right? Fairness, not whether he wants it or not.