Ratchet makes a thick sound in his throat that's almost a snarl and writhes as pleasure swamps him, radiating thick tendrils out from his array to drag through his whole body, his thigh shaking hard as Sixshot's hands work between his legs. He curses fiercely, rocking his hips and barely managing to move--all he can really do is hang there and let Sixshot wreck him, the ache of the stretch and the almost painful hypersensitivity of his whole body making him arch desperately for some kind of relief.