"We'll be very short an epidemiologist if you burn out- ah." Sixshot averts his optics as ordered, but there's only so much he can do for the sake of modestly when First Aid was just straight up overloading in his arms. The sudden thick scent of the climax slams into his olfactory sensors and his internal temp spikes back up accompanied by the howl of cooling fans.

"Uhm," he manages after a long moment, feeling vaguely grateful that he hadn't gotten up off his knee just yet. Eventually he can't resist the urge to look anymore and he casts a guilty glance down First Aid's small, over-warm frame shaking in his arms.

"Might be awkward," the Sixer manages dryly, static underlining his words. He tightens his grip when Rampage nuzzles up to them, uttering a shaky sigh, trying to focus beyond the growing haze of heat.

"What," there's a pause as Sixshot struggles to gather his thoughts. "What can we do to help?"