Whether Tarn wanted him to or not, Sixshot heard that heavy note of disappointment. It draws a huff of warm air from his vents, part exasperation and part growing arousal. This was... a difficult thing to try and work through when the pollen was starting to work charge through his neural relays again.

"Tarn," Sixshot shifts his weight, trying to alleviate the pressure around his spike somehow and only managing to make it worse and the strain makes his voice fuzz over with static.

"I want-" he presses his nose into Tarn's shoulder, shuttering his optics. "I want to stay." He wants to make up for this blunder.