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Bluestreak pushed a little more power to his engine, enjoying the hum himself in an absent way as he pulled Cliffjumper further into his lap. One hand pushed the little spitfire's head between his neck and a rifle. Flicking his doorwings, Bluestreak tried to think of anything to say. He didn't know a lot about relationships, and between the two, Cliffjumper was actually older and more experienced. The sniper still wanted to help though - wanted to feel useful to his friend.
"You had a good reason." The characteristic lilt at the end was missing, turning the question into more a quiet statement. For all his bluster and ego and sharp edges, Bluestreak knew Cliffjumper wouldn't do something for a /completely/ stupid reason.
An affirmative was mumbled against his shoulder as the smaller engine in the minibot hiccupped with emotion.
"Mmm," Bluestreak acknowledged and began to rock back and forth slightly. "Then it will be alright in the end." Bluestreak was certain of this; even as Cliffjumper began to sob and shake and curl too tight fists around sensitive metal, Bluestreak was sure.