There was no way he could stay still, not with a gentle hand inexorably stirring energy and raising charge, as well as Cliffjumper's now thoroughly distracted by insistent stroking of his horn. Simple physical sensation and the charge tied to that rushed down to meet the physical-and-yet-not of Optimus' hand in the outer edges of his spark, and Cliffjumper writhed, metal sliding against metal and causing friction to add a burn as well.

Even with all that, helm tossed back, optics only barely lit, Cliffjumper somehow managed to scowl, unfocused, narrow gaze snapping down to glare at the Prime at the question. Heat - a completely different sort than the very physical one his cooling systems were trying to dispel - flared up.

But the only thing that came out of his vocalizer as Optimus flicked his tongue out just after that was a staticky, glitched gasp, his hand reflexively tightening about his horn and that was just too much. His spark flared, corona pulsing outward to brush against Optimus' whole hand as well as the (intended) circuitry right now mostly hidden by the spark chamber, which normally surrounded it.

He froze, clinging to what he could as the overload crashed down, energy pulling in in a hot, nearly too-big tingling charge, and then washed through him.