He gasps, sharply. Before he can hold himself back, he grinds himself down against Perceptor's hand. Every motion is jerky, the grip on Perceptor's hand tightening even more. He squirms, wriggles, does everything he can to press back against the Autobot's hand.

The groan, as he manages to get the paneling open, still arched and squirming against those fingers, is stifled into Perceptor's mouth. He returns the kiss for all it's worth.

He leans back, as he presses into the kiss, but wavers, unsure if he's meant to settle down onto the Autobot's hand, or if he's meant to wait. He digs his free hand deeper behind that chest plate, looking for wiring.