Rampage gives a victorious growl as Sixshot's pelvic plating folds open under his hand. His own abdominal plates are hot and itching under Sixshot's fingers, enflamed by his touch.

First Aid's words are music to his audios. He wants them both. Not just Sixshot. Rampage too. He feels impossibly warm.

Moaning, he shifts his head to tuck his teeth against Sixshot's neck, scraping gently at his paint. Without further warning, he curls his fingers, pushing at the slick entrances of both mechs, thick digits striving to press into the warm heat inside them.

Some people aren't very patient.