He can feel the fingers tightening around his shoulders and still Spinister doesn't move. His optics narrow further, however, radiating quiet anger until Tarn lets go of him.

"The guy who helped me doesn't like your ugly mug either." Spinister turns away, grabbing the panel and going to put it into place. He doesn't bother waiting for the other mech to help hold it up this time before getting to work, ignoring the way the sheet keeps bouncing off his shoulder as he welds.

"If you don't trust me, I don't care," the heli continues as-a-matter-of-factly. "Just let me do my work. I don't want to live in a drafty scrap pile if I can fix it."