Sixshot’s fist connects squarely with Tarn’s face, snapping his head back sharply. He hisses in pain, stepping to the side as he tries to get his processor to stop spinning from the blow. After a moment his mind clears. It take’s more effort than he is almost able to muster to tamp down the fiery anger brought with the pain of being struck by someone he cares so deeply for. He must try a different tactic.

“Now, now, let’s be reasonable Sixshot…” His fists clench at his sides. He wants to strike back but he can’t.The situation is wrong. The Autobot had become too important to his lover. More important than he, perhaps, realized. It only makes Tarn wish he had succeeded even more.

“What use does beating me truly have? Will it make you feel better to cause me pain? If that is the case, then by all means, hit me. I will not fight you. “ He drops to his knees staring up at Sixshot, daring him to proceed. “I’m waiting."