Work Text:
"Um, Jason?"
Ruben's stomach flutters a little in anticipation of the sheer awkwardness he is about to unleash on his unsuspecting friend and colleague. "Before you go, there's another thing I need from you. It's... highly experimental, to be honest, but we're running out of options here."
Jason looks at him earnestly. "Anything, Ruben. I need to deal with Ian so I can be there for my son. Just tell me what you need."
Ruben scratches the back of his neck. Words form in his mouth and then dissolve again before he can get them out. He decides to just cut to the chase.
"I need your tears."
Jason blinks at him, uncomprehending. Before he can object, Ruben rushes to explain. "I know it sounds... well, either extremely stupid or possibly creepy, but," - well now that you said that it's definitely creepy - "there's a new approach I'm trying, analyzing the different chemical profiles during certain... emotional states you and Ian experience. It's still very early stages, but I've noticed an unusually low prolactin content in Ian's tears, which suggests a dysfunction of the limbic system and-"
"Wait, you got Ian's tears?" Jason interrupts. "How?"
Ruben shifts nervously. "Long story. I- There was an opportunity and I took it. Don't worry, he doesn't know," he adds, when Jason starts to look concerned. He takes a steadying breath. "So... are you okay with doing this right now? I understand if you'd rather be alone."
“No, it’s okay. Anything you need. Just hit me with some mild teargas, or whatever you have.”
“Um.” Ruben winces. This conversation is not getting any less awkward. “The thing is, reflex tears have a different biochemical composition than emotional tears, so I, uh.” He clasps his hands together and grimaces. “I need you to cry for real.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Jason has that constipated look on his face, the one he always gets when Ruben tries to get on any sort of emotional level with him. “Okay, I think I’d like to be left alone for that, yeah,” he says to the lab rats in the cage next to him.
Ruben expected as much. He smiles his best non-threatening smile. “No problem. I’ll just go get a coffee. The good one, from up in surgery.” He tosses a small vial at Jason, who catches it gracefully. “Use this once you get the waterworks going.”
--
He comes back to find a stone-faced Jason sitting in his lab chair, clutching the still empty vial. “It’s not working, Ruben. I’m sorry.” Jason’s voice has a slight tremor to it, which. That’s a good start, Ruben supposes.
“Well, what did you do?”
“I don’t know!” Jason gets up from the chair and starts pacing. “Just, thought about sad things from my past, stuff like that. Losing Olivia,” he murmurs, standing so he’s facing away from Ruben. Ruben takes the liberty of rolling his eyes. All drama but no tears.
“Have you tried going for more recent stuff? Like, I’m not trying to be a dick here, but let’s be honest, your life kinda sucks right now.”
Jason turns around to look Ruben in the eyes. His expression has darkened considerably. “I guess you’re right,” he says quietly. Like he didn’t even consider that.
Well, okay. Maybe being a dick is the way to go. If only he could think of a way to not make this weirder than it already is-
“I used to cry when my teacher yelled at me,” Jason suddenly blurts out. Ruben’s eyebrows ascend somewhere into his hairline. There it is.
“So, let me get this straight,” Ruben says carefully. “You’re asking me to yell at you until you cry?”
Jason looks mortified, but he nods, holding his gaze steady. “Whatever it takes.”
--
The first slap comes as a surprise to both of them. Ruben gets a little caught up in the moment, chastising Jason for being irresponsible with his experimental drugs and endangering the lives of everyone around him, including his patients. “People could have died, Jason! I could have died! What would you have done then?” Jason, seemingly forgetting the reason they were doing this in the first place, jumps up to defend himself and a moment later he’s holding his cheek and Ruben’s hand is hurting, staring at each other stunned for a moment. Jason wipes a tear from his eye, then realizes.
“It worked,” he says at the same time as Ruben says “I’m sorry.”
“No, please, do that again,” Jason assures him, sitting down on the chair again. “Let’s get this over with.”
Ruben tries not to think of the million ways in which this might go wrong.
--
Five minutes later and Ruben is pretty sure that some line has been crossed. Jason hasn’t cried again, but he’s grunting after each slap, and the flush in his face doesn’t seem to be solely caused by the impact of Ruben’s palm anymore. There’s a heat in Jason’s eyes that makes Ruben’s gut twist in a way he doesn’t dare to think about.
“Is this still okay?” He asks, because he doesn’t know how to ask the question that’s really on his mind. “You look… like you could use a break.”
Jason grits his teeth. “I’m fine. I think I’m getting close, keep going.” Close to what? Ruben thinks, and a look at Jason’s crotch confirms his suspicion. He licks his lips subconsciously. Jason obviously doesn’t want to acknowledge what’s really happening here. So.
“Let’s try something different.”
Ruben takes a step closer, runs his fingers over Jason’s reddened cheek, then into his hair. There’s not much for him to pull on, so he has to tug pretty harshly to get a reaction out of Jason. He’s rewarded with a sound that can’t be described as anything but a whimper, and it goes straight to Ruben’s dick.
Acting on impulse, he gets his knee between Jason’s legs, pressing down on the obvious bulge, and Jason seems to come apart instantly, shuddering with the realization of Ruben’s intentions. “Fuck,” he gasps, and Ruben tilts his head further back, grinds against him, and it’s messy and unfocused but Jason cries out his name and convulses, and Ruben quickly grabs at the vial when tears start streaming down his face like droplets of rain collecting on a car window.