Squirming, thrashing, flexing tight; if it weren't for the gag, Optimus would have been shouting at Megatron to go faster, to abandon his slow, methodical pace of exploration. As it was, he was biting down on the gag with all the little strength he had left, valve clenching futilely on the slick tongue teasing his sensors.

He couldn't hold it, couldn't keep it in, and when Megatron pulled away like his engine shrieked in outrage.

Again? Again, damn you?!

Megatron's pause left him waiting, trashing and tense...and when the Highlord's taunts didn't come, he arched himself up enough to glare-

...Oh, but for his voice.

Tired, overclocked, and shaking with delayed want, Optimus raised an optic ridge.

Trying to figure out what to do with it?