A blink. A challenging tilt of the helm, despite the endless shudders wracking his frame with every lacking touch. And another narrowing of optics.

If one could smirk with only optics and a inhibiting gag in their mouth, that was it right there.

Those had been his audials, and vibrations. Not raw voice. It didn't count. Wouldn't count, not so long as he had an ounce of pride left and a frame that burned with need.

He couldn't manage without that, Optimus was sure. (And if he was wrong. Well. He would get an overload out of it.) Pleasantly deep voice or not.