S hears, but he doesn't stop. He doesn't even consider it, really, though he doubts J would mind if he drew back now. Being here, he would just rather see this through to the end. Trying to clearly convey that is largely impossible, though, without counterintuitively stopping to outright say so. He tries to make it as clear as he can instead, continuing without faltering, his hand still steady against J's hip, as much to help keep him supported as just for the sake of touching him. Even his mouth around J's dick doesn't really seem like contact enough; there's no way he could keep his hands to himself, not now that he gets to have this again, as if he needs further reassurance to know that this is still real, that J is solid and whole and warm and safe.

Whatever it takes, S means to try to see to it that that remains the case. Preoccupied as he is, the thought doesn't stay with him for long, but it's true all the same.

Ignoring how his jaw and throat are starting to feel, he keeps his head bobbing steadily, trying to make the way his mouth and tongue work insistent. If J is that close to the edge, then S wants it to be as good as possible when he falls over it.