Tarn's squirming makes Sixshot suppress a grunt as overstimulated sensors send flickers of sensations through his relays again. He reaches out and somewhat gingerly helps the other mech slide himself free, biting his tongue to stop any potentially embarrassing noises. It doesn't really stop him from gasping at the sudden rush of warm fluids over his lap though. Good Primus, that was... he kind of forgot how messy the aftermath tended to be.

"Honestly," the Sixer manages after a moment of gathering his composure again, sliding his palm down Tarn's abdominal plates as the DJD Commanders leans over him him to fetch the cloth. "I really, really don't want to face him covered in transfluid and tell him what happened to the shower."