The fever is in part the withdrawal symptoms, and it's true that Wing really doesn't feel so great, but that takes an easy backseat to the way Deadlock touches him, soothing a craving from various sources and stirring a different kind of heat in him.

"Don't have a medic," his words are breathy, trying, but only slightly, to hide the inflections in his voice. Wing can't hide the softening of his EM field though, slowly coloring with desire like a sunset, the jagged fear from earlier diminishing to a thin edge of worry at that dulls further with each stroke of Deadlock's hands. "Guess you'll have to make do."