Sam pants heavily against Cyril's back, moaning every once in a while as his thighs shake and Cyril's muscles flex around him as they come down from their high. He doesn't have the energy to move, and he tries his best not to put any more of his weight against Cyril since he doubts the Elf could hold them both up in his current position.

It takes a few moments for his mind to clear for his to realize he still has a tight grip on Cryil's hips. Slowly he loosens it again though doesn't let go, letting his hands lightly rub apologetically at the possibly bruised skin.