#I pulled the hc of cal being french out of my ass

[ask-the-parabalis-gang]

O B L I G A T I O N

INCLUDES: Cal, Dr. Nick Orgon CWs: Nonconsensual kiss, nonconsensual touching, manipulation/guilt tripping, physical violence

“Before I leave you,” Cal said, voice low and languid as he took a small step closer to Orgon. He was already within a few feet of the smaller man, and the proximity caused a tremor to run down the backs of both, one with anticipation and one with loosely contained fear. “May I have a kiss goodbye, mon amour?”

His fingers curled around the side of Orgon’s waist, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he tugged him forward; this faded ever so slightly as Orgon did not comply, stepping back towards the wall behind him.

“No.”

Cal simply raised an eyebrow at the word, as if he did not quite understand it. “No?” he repeated, the hand at Orgon’s waist remaining firm as he followed his movements, driving him backward. “Your heart has indeed hardened, then… but is it not your purpose, now, to please your savior with the life that he has given you? A small offering to me is all I ask, so I will ask again; I would simply like a kiss goodbye.”

Puffs of warm breath on Orgon’s face made his skin crawl as Cal moved forward. Once again, he drew backward, turning his face away with disgust as he wrenched himself from the hand that gripped with no remorse. “No-”

The sudden movement had pressed Orgon into a wall, trapping him precisely where Cal wanted him. His other hand reached up, gripping onto Orgon’s chin before he could turn away again and tilting his head up to face him with sickening gentleness. Forced to meet Cal’s gaze, Orgon’s breathing quickened as his muscles tensed at the sight of the other shifting closer.

“Une telle résistance, mon petit agneau...” Cal purred, his free hand finding Orgon’s waist again and partially slipping beneath his shirt, rough and calloused fingers rubbing at the skin there; Orgon shuddered, unable to help himself. “You’re pleasing me. Is that not what you live to do now?”

He stepped forward, face flushed and lips slightly parted as his fingers prodded, squeezed, digging into either side of Orgon’s face and forcing his jaw open a little. Every motion he made was gentle, loving, as if both of them wanted this.

“Give in.” It was a command, a plea, a prayer that Orgon could not afford to ignore.

He forced himself not to turn away again as Cal brought his mouth to his own, a soft, pleased hum leaving him at the taste. Orgon was unable to keep away the thought that death would have been preferable to this fate at the intrusion, the violating feeling of Cal’s fingers prying his jaw open a little further so he could force his tongue inside. His skin crawled at the overwhelming heat, at the feeling of Cal’s stubble scratching at his face and his hand gripping and pulling and tracing along his ribs under his shirt; Christ, he couldn’t breathe. It was only when the kiss went on for a moment too long, and Cal slipped his knee between Orgon’s legs to press up against him with a smug chuckle into his mouth, that he pushed him back, unable to stand another second of what was happening.

His actions were met with a swift, harsh slap to the face that made him stumble ever so slightly. Cal softly tsked, watching Orgon slowly look back up at him, chest rising and falling quickly as he panted for breath.

“How defiant…” he murmured, reaching up and gently rubbing at the skin that he had struck. “How curious it is, that you, who clings to life so desperately, fights against the will of that which gave you life with that save desperation. A peculiar juxtaposition indeed, mon amour… but remember what I have said. And be careful when toying with these filaments of trust I still have in you. They have worn quite thin as of late.”

With a final, lingering caress, Cal turned away. Even as he left, Orgon could still taste him, could still feel him lingering on his skin. No distance between the two could ever purify him.