Sam shouldn't have released Eliot's hands. It made maneuvering him easier, certainly, and lifting and positioning him, but that was the extent of his advantage. The downside, however, meant Eliot was unbound. A normal person's reflexes were slowed post orgasm, the body relaxed after copulating and there was no changing the physical biological response, but it was pure sloppiness if the person allowed their awareness to slip. And Hell wouldn't want Eliot if he was the type to be sloppy. Neck deep in enemy territory, the sex forced into him, he would downright idiotic to let his attention slip that far.

"Sure, all rise and shine."

When Sam pulled him up, Eliot brought one freed hand forward as expected to support himself, but the other swung around with his elbow aiming for Sam behind him. It was a difficult position, awkward for both of them, but even if Sam was anticipating a fight, his attention was split between that and actually fucking Eliot. He used his elbow for the blow, all hard bone and sharp angle, and applying the momentum of his turn to make up for his weakened muscles.

Little did Sam know, it was probably planned for them to be paired this way; a torturer who wasn't quite heartless, a damned man who wasn't quite evil. It was his deeds that sent Eliot down here, not his natural alignment, which was why real effort had to be put into changing his predisposition. Eliot had spent the last several years of his life helping people, fighting the good fight, not for any redemption but minimizing the damage he had done in life. Sam, in his situation, would have been one of those victims who Eliot would have helped in his recent years. This was meant to change both of them, but it was not something that would happen in hours.