"Cisco, why is your shirt wet?"
Cisco's eyes widened. If the scene were a cartoon, the sound of glass shattering would have come in perfect sync. "Get off of me!" He shoved the man as hard as he could and bolted, leaving Harry stunned and confused. This has to be the fastest he's ever seen Cisco run from something.
Cisco ran to the showers. He needed to cool off, needed to lower his body temp. The cool tiles met his back, and they felt like a godsend. They were incredible. For comfort he slid down to the floor of the stall. Cisco swung an arm out to hit the shower handle.
Freezing water started to soak him through to his skin beneath his clothes, making the engineer moan in obscenity. He was in heaven... Well, almost. He fumbled with his jacket, forcing soaked fabric down his arms with some struggle. The blue garment hit the wet floor, and Cisco all but ripped his t-shirt off.
He was submissive to the water raining down on him. He leaned against the wall, baring his chest to it, moaning again in sweet relief. Brown irises turned hazy with comfort, and his eyes were half lidded. He didn't have to do this much these days. Since he'd had no lover. So when he reached a state of arousal, he usually didn't have much to worry about. He would just wash his clothes when he was satisfied.
'The jig is up,' Cisco realized as he sat there. Harry would probably piece everything together soon. 'Cover blown.' He was pretty sure he was on his own for this. If Harry ridiculed him, he'd take it in stride. That's all his family did when it started. Hell, his mother was screaming at him in the doctor's office when he was fourteen.
It wasn't long after that when he started sleeping in the basement at home. His whole family tortured him over it. Well...his dad didn't. That was a plus. His father merely comforted him when he endured such vulgar taunts and teasing that often came out of nowhere.
After his...ability...to lactate during arousal was discovered, Cisco had started to break away from his family, separating himself and spending as much time out of the house as possible. When he was eighteen, and the other Harrison Wells had come to hire him for Star Labs, Cisco was again sleeping in the basement, wanting to be left alone.
He'd woken up to him gazing at his work bench in some fascination, unbothered by the disaster of pliers, wires, soldering irons and industrial adhesives. Cisco had lined the end of the basement with numerous tables for workbenches and blueprints were taped to the walls, some even hanging from the ceiling. Complete projects sat on mounts screwed into the walls. Beaten up chalk boards were leaning against the legs of the tables with ridiculous equations normally far above the average eighteen year-old scribbled all over. Incomplete circuit boards were strewn about, some at the foot of his bed and even one on his pillow that had tangled some of his hair.
Then, through the merciless cold shower, Cisco remembered Harrison turning around when he'd sat up in bed. His worn Star Trek blanket was still tangled around his waist. His vision was somewhat blurred from the haze of sleep. That one circuit board was hanging in his snarled hair and he was just barely aware that he was wearing a Pokemon shirt and Star Wars pajama pants.
And Harrison had laughed at the sight, finding the view rather hilarious. Especially when the boy had tried to get the hunk of soldered metal loose. Despite the mess, Cisco's love and dedication to his skills and the need of perfecting them had been seen.
"Cisco?" The call was faint, far down the corridor. Faint enough that Cisco didn't care. His eyelids were feeling heavy. Harry had fucked him pretty good. But he'd asked for it. And thank God he had. It was incredible. He knew what it was like to give it, but until tonight he'd known nothing of receiving it.
Secretly he wished he would experience it again. But now that Harry knew his secret, that seemed like a pipe dream. He sighed and curled up on the floor, waiting for the cold water to stifle the last of his ecstasy high. This in turn would cease milk production. At least, until his next hard-on. Though sopping wet, his shirt made a good pillow. Cisco answered the temptation of sleep and slowly his breathing evened out. May as well get one more peaceful nap in. He figured it would be his last peaceful nap for a while.
...
Various whispers and mumbling started to pry in the perfect darkness of Cisco's sleep. He rolled his head a bit against...a pillow? He groaned loudly and fought to open his eyes. What was going on?
His hands gripped at stiff sheets and it clicked. He was in the med bay. His torso felt constricted, he noticed, and it took quite a bit of effort to just wake up.
"Cisco?"
Said male finally opened his eyes and finds Caitlin looking at him intently. He looked around and moved to sit up, wincing at the constriction on his chest. Cisco's eyes trailed downward to look, and he saw an ace bandage wrapped firmly around. One shift and he could feel soft padding on the inside.
Cisco's head went back against the pillow with a dull rustle and he sighed. "Dammit..." He'd been found out by Caitlin now. And she clearly had some questions about the matter.
"How are you feeling?" she asked gently, somewhat uncomfortable for some reason. It was odd to her, the knowledge of...well, Cisco's ability to produce milk. Caitlin had already been through his medical records, and knew that it was due to the hormones oxytocin and prolactin being a bit higher than normal in his body, but she still had questions. Hello! It was against nature!
"I'm fine," he finally forced, not ready to deal with her yet. Footsteps brought his eyes upward to see Harry off to the side, arms folded and, thank the multiverse, his t-shirt back in place. And on his left hand, three of his fingers wore white band aids.
Harry's eyes carried a few different feelings. There was some concern visible, some interest in Cisco's gift, and a bit of morbid fascination to it that he kept very well hidden from Caitlin's view. He obviously had some questions, too. Cisco then found it odd that he was more willing to deal with Harry first instead of the red headed doctor.
Cisco sat up completely and turned, hanging his legs over the side of the bed to get down.
"Um, I was wondering if we could talk about-"
"No," Cisco cut Caitlin off without missing a beat. He shoved himself off the bed and walked out of the med bay, mentally preparing himself for Harry's inquiries. He knew they were coming. It was only a matter of when.
...
''When'' didn't hit until two months later. No one had forgotten about the newfound knowledge. In fact, Caitlin was looking like she was going to have a seizure if she didn't get to ask Cisco her heap of questions soon.
Barry had been deliberately left in the dark. He was one of the last people Cisco wanted to know. And instead of surrendering to the pair of eyes that burned into his back, Harry had taken the initiative.
Brain swirling with the new data, his darker side had created new ideas and fantasies that he doubted Cisco would indulge. He was clearly embarrassed about being found out, and had spent the last several weeks on edge. He was afraid of being humiliated. Harry saw it.
Cisco was enjoying a cup of coffee in the kitchen when Harry finally confronted him. He came in and poured his own cup, leaned against the counter, and waited. Cisco looked at him suspiciously, but moved to sip his own coffee.
"So, when did you start lactating?"
Cisco lurched forward and nearly threw himself at the sink, choking on sugary caffeine and burning his throat. ''Not cool, Harry!'' he hacked, cheeks red with some embarrassment and the heat of the coffee on his esophagus. He coughed a few times before finally composing himself. Harry mentally smiled at the image before him.
Cisco gripped the counter tightly, a slight lean in his stance and the opposite hand pressed against his upper leg for support. Some of his hair was out of place at the fit, a few stray brown strands hanging in his face. A glare was leveled that might even unease Barry if given the chance.
''It's an honest question, Ramon.'' He took a sip of his coffee and smirked somewhat around the mug.
''It doesn't matter when it started,'' he answered, literally afraid of being tormented for it. Caitlin had him so fucking nervous over the whole thing that her heels clicking was enough to make him shake.
Harry sighed and set his mug down. ''It's not as strange to me as you might think. Earth-2, for all of its poor ideals, actually views the concept with some interest, and actually puts it to use.''
Cisco's glare slipped away to make room for astonishment. ''What?! How?!''
''The medical intervention is used in cases where a mother has just had a child and she dies, and the baby is still young enough that breast milk is needed.''
Cisco was surprised. He'd hadn't really thought too much about it, and never even considered looking at the subject from that point of view.
"Your case is interesting to me because it's never happened naturally on my earth, and here, it's generally a sign of a severe health problem."
Here, Cisco reddened further. Because he was perfectly healthy.
"So. I'll ask again. When did you start lactating?" And he waited. He watched the boy's eyes contort with discomfort, though less so when the question had been asked the first time. Clearly the subject had been used against him in the past.
"...I was thirteen and a half when it started. Fourteen when mom finally took me to a doctor because she didn't believe me at first. That had to be the most embarrassing appointment I've ever had." The redness was gone from his face by now. Cisco had turned a bit pale. He looked sick.
Harry decided he'd heard enough. It was then that Cisco walked off, heading for a bathroom and promptly throwing up in the sink. Upon that glorious sound of one's stomach being emptied, Harry scooped up his mug and dumped it down the sink. His desire for caffeine was gone with that noise. It's the third day in a row Cisco has run off to puke.
Harry quietly retraced the boy's steps and walked into the bathroom, moving to stand beside him and gently rubbing his back. The hand made Cisco freeze, but he didn't swing at it or glare at the man's reflection in the mirror. "Thanks," he finally said, so quietly Harry nearly missed it.
"What for?" the older scientist supplied. He wasn't sure he'd done anything that warranted thanks. But he had, although without really realizing it.
"For not beating me up for it. Stupid. But it means a lot."
Go easy on me, please! I spent A LOT of time digging and reading all over the place on this!