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#if only to further my trans Toji agenda
itadoricest · 1 month
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old fic wip; tojigumi, intoxication, mild vomit, trans!Toji, gently manipulative Megumi
minors do not interact
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Toji is drinking tonight. He’s not a drunk by any means, not anymore; he had a long stint of alcoholism after Megumi’s mom passed, but was able to put it down when he went back to work. Being hungover constantly isn’t a good look for a hitman, no matter how good his track record is. Occasionally, though, he enjoys a night of drinking, and he tends to manage his liquor fairly well, better than he manages money and things like hydrocodone. Megumi is more than happy to give him the money he needs for a pack of beers and a bottle of less-than-shitty tequila, and he’ll even say he’ll drink with him, though he never drinks a drop. He wants to be fully sober and aware to take care of his father.
It’s selfish of Megumi to take so much joy in this habit. It goes to his head a little bit, being able to take care of Toji like some kind of troublesome child. That’s why he handles their money, their groceries, their bills, and gives Toji an allowance to do what he pleases with. He almost lost his dad once, and he doesn’t want that to happen again, can’t risk him having an episode and running off, so he keeps him under his thumb, pinned down with financial control. Getting Toji drunk is just an extra treat that he indulges in on occasion, when he wants to really feel like his dad needs him.
It’s easy for Megumi to distract Toji. He puts on an R-rated movie for them to watch, makes conversation when things get slow, and keeps offering another beer, another shot of tequila, another mixed drink when the one he’s on gets low. If Toji catches on to what he’s doing, he doesn’t say anything, he never does; he takes every drink that Megumi offers him with a “Thank you, baby,” and downs it. When the alcohol gets to him and he can no longer lift the beer can to his lips, Megumi does it for him, spilling a bit down his chin and onto his t-shirt and boxers. Toji looks ill and Megumi calls it quits for the night, but not before pinching Toji’s nose and forcing another shot down his throat.
He helps Toji to the bathroom, presses his chest to his father’s back as he leans over the toilet to vomit. Megumi helps him with that, too, hooks his middle and forefinger around Toji’s lower set of teeth, his free hand holding his forehead, forcing his mouth open wider so the puke doesn’t spew out of his nose. He watches from over Toji’s shoulder, watches the tears stream down Toji’s flushed face, the snot and drool dripping down his chin and all over Megumi’s hand. Vulnerability looks good on him, so good that Megumi can’t help but grind his cock against the small of Toji’s back while he empties his guts.
When he’s finished puking, Toji’s lips close around the fingers in his mouth with a whine, lapping at them lazily. Megumi uses his free hand to feel over Toji’s boxers, over his clothed cunt, and finds exactly what he’s expecting. Toji is so wet his underwear is soaked and slimy, the fabric clinging to his hole, his clit swollen and begging for attention. Megumi scoffs.
“Need help, old man?” he asks, trying to sound irritated even though he’s trembling with excitement. Toji nods, eyes half-lidded and glassy, barely there, sucking on the fingers in his mouth like a pacifier. Megumi is so hard that it hurts.
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