He keeps going, full of the fire and vigor that only someone full of life at the age of nineteen can possess. Then he climaxes with a sudden jerk, the hand holding onto Gaige's waist pressing tight enough to leave deep black-and-blue marks, while his entire frame goes stiff and rigid for a moment. There's deep, primal cry that escapes his throat almost like a battle cry.

Then he just slumps there in his chair, as boneless as his nickname would suggest right now. The level of bliss he was at right now couldn't be measured in quantifiable terms. He hasn't been this happy in a very long time. Covered in blood, sweat, and what's likely going to be quite a few marks forming, he feels very content.