Exhaustion takes over at some point, when he's already lost count of how many men have had him. It's a good thing: He relaxes, warm waves rushing over him and his limbs slackening. Though it's easier to pull on him, it's no longer as painful as it used to be. Still unexpected whenever someone tugs or yanks on some part of him, but he's unwound and while all the sudden movements he's forced to take make him dizzy, it's easier to accept for his body and mind.

The only moment when he flexes his arms, a brief return of tension, is when come splatters over him. He moans, involuntarily, right afterwards. This is something he's pictured happening and been looking forward to. And now it's actually happening, drops of come running down the small of his back. Stupidly, he smiles and whispers a thank you, knowing full well the man who did it may have already left. He feels drunk, but all he's had the past days is water and tea, enough to keep him energized throughout the night.

It looks like he's going to need it.

Keening when the latest guy changes his pace, his lips readily part the second a hand fondles his cheek. Shinjirou doesn't need to hear to know what's going to happen next; his mouth is watering, neck stretched out in anticipation and he doesn't have to wait long. Groaning, he sucks the stranger's cock into his mouth. Finally something he can do, instead of just take and hope that it feels good for whoever's using him.