Tony's definitely affecting Justin. Not just sexually, not just in the moment, but overall? He's done a number on him. Not in a negative way, of course. In a very positive way, actually; lots of ways, really, ways that Justin never thought possible from either of them. He hadn't brought home a significant other to really meet his parents in a long time, and the last one he'd brought home hadn't been all that significant in the first place. Just someone to drape in pearls and diamonds to look good on his arm who couldn't imagine the terror! of a holiday apart, don't you think it's a little odd?
He can't see him exactly, but he's completely aware of where everything is and what's going on. There's no other sense that's heightened to make up for his crummy eyesight, of course, but with cold air and Tony's mouth working against him, he couldn't be more aware of him than he is now, glasses or no. The image is blurry, but he's got a plasma screen to make up for it. There's no static lines, no messed up contrast and brightness, only Justin aware of every movement and oh hell.
Anything he might have said (though he doesn't know what he would say because he couldn't think clearly enough to form the most simple of simple sentences) dies in his throat the moment he feels Tony's throat open and take him fully in, and he'd have to be completely dead not to get the hint. The show he couldn't properly see and the motions before it, however, had Justin on the very edge of orgasm already, and he's a man. He can't quell every sexual need he has as much as he'd like to. And, as much as he'd like to fuck Tony's mouth for hours at time, he's not capable of it. His hand, already threaded through his hair and slightly clenched around his skull, tightens less than ten seconds after he gets the hint, less than two movements of hips that he really wishes he could turn into two hundred. His other hand, dropped to grip at one of Tony's wrists as though it was a life preserver, tightened at the same moment, and there was something that could have been a warning that never managed to make it off his tongue as anything more than garbled nonsense. Short, brief, garbage that didn't even come anywhere close to a word, much less more than one. Much less, I can't do this, I'm going to come right now.
But hey, Tony's a smart guy, and they've been doing this long enough that he's confident he'll know what that aborted word means. He hopes so, at least, because it's barely five seconds after it that he finds himself incapable of holding off any more and finds himself having one of the more intense orgasms he's had in the past five weeks.
Considering they'd been together for the past five weeks, it's saying a lot.
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He can't see him exactly, but he's completely aware of where everything is and what's going on. There's no other sense that's heightened to make up for his crummy eyesight, of course, but with cold air and Tony's mouth working against him, he couldn't be more aware of him than he is now, glasses or no. The image is blurry, but he's got a plasma screen to make up for it. There's no static lines, no messed up contrast and brightness, only Justin aware of every movement and oh hell.
Anything he might have said (though he doesn't know what he would say because he couldn't think clearly enough to form the most simple of simple sentences) dies in his throat the moment he feels Tony's throat open and take him fully in, and he'd have to be completely dead not to get the hint. The show he couldn't properly see and the motions before it, however, had Justin on the very edge of orgasm already, and he's a man. He can't quell every sexual need he has as much as he'd like to. And, as much as he'd like to fuck Tony's mouth for hours at time, he's not capable of it. His hand, already threaded through his hair and slightly clenched around his skull, tightens less than ten seconds after he gets the hint, less than two movements of hips that he really wishes he could turn into two hundred. His other hand, dropped to grip at one of Tony's wrists as though it was a life preserver, tightened at the same moment, and there was something that could have been a warning that never managed to make it off his tongue as anything more than garbled nonsense. Short, brief, garbage that didn't even come anywhere close to a word, much less more than one. Much less, I can't do this, I'm going to come right now.
But hey, Tony's a smart guy, and they've been doing this long enough that he's confident he'll know what that aborted word means. He hopes so, at least, because it's barely five seconds after it that he finds himself incapable of holding off any more and finds himself having one of the more intense orgasms he's had in the past five weeks.
Considering they'd been together for the past five weeks, it's saying a lot.