He'd have replied, or tried to, or something, but while strokes along the length of his horns are distracting, yes, they don't cause the instant roar of charge swelling up, going like a lightning strike from the tips of his horns and down.

Cliffjumper isn't really sure what noise he just made against Optimus' audial, teeth scraping gently against it, and he's certainly not holding up any of his own weight anymore, fingers digging into the wheel, squeezing it slightly.

Just like that, he's so. close, but he's suddenly got no idea how to rectify that because apparently several logic and reasoning cores just had to reboot and all Cliffjumper's processor, swamped in sensation from the overloaded sensornet can come up with, is "more", but not how to get that.