Tarn is fairly straightforward with what he wants from Vos. His hands move along the other mech's limbs, guiding him into the desired position. When he's finished, Vos is seated straddling his lap, Tarn's hands skimming up his thighs and along his waist.

Given how long they've been around each other, it isn't hard to pick up on the slight fuzz of interest at the edges of Vos's EM field. He can't be blamed, given how Tarn was stroking and petting him, but Tarn still gives a small hum of amusement as he leans back in his seat.

"Comfortable?" he asks, fingers tracing slow, intentional patterns along Vos's hipspan.