Chapter 2: Two For One

"At least he warned you. I was minding my own business and trying to chart whatever passes as DNA for Junkasauruses when suddenly I had two sons fighting over who got to work the electron microscope."

Ben was sitting in the library of the Utonium's suite, feeling shocky and almost wishing he'd accepted the Professor's offer of something stronger to drink than coffee as he fought to wrap his brain around the situation.

"I don't know if it helped any," admitted Ben, hoping the Professor didn't think he was whining. "It's really weird, like . . . he's been split down the middle."

"He has."

"I spent the last three hours alternating between being insulted and treated like I'm helpless."

"One called me a pillock and a stuffed shirt while the other one offered to cut my steak for me. It's been interesting, but I've got them to agree to behave and work together. Dexter knows what we're up against and he takes the war seriously, at least."

"Who knows?"

"Just a handful of people - Morton, Mr. Green, Mandy."

Ben made a noise like "yeesh!" as he imagined two Dexters to one teacher. "Poor Mr. Green."

"Oh, Kilroy was a substitute teacher for twenty years," said Utonium dismissively. "He's more than a match for His Rudeness."

"What do the girls think?"

"DeeDee didn't notice when she visited on Saturday. Blossom preemptively put them both in their place and now they're afraid of her. Bubbles adores the nice version and he beta read all the fanfic she wrote. Buttercup and the rude version just feed off one another and try to gross each other out."

Ben stared, having been exposed to Bubbles' sugar-coated, super kawaii desu Bexter-kun fanfic. "Tell me he didn't like the fanfic."

"I wish I could. He cried. A lot."

"Oh, god." Ben buried his face in his hands, quietly horrified and embarrassed. One of him. Two Dexters. Granted the sexual fantasies were pretty appealing from a personal point of view, but the fanfic possibilities were nothing short of terrifying. His only hope of survival lay in Bubbles' innocence and lack of imagination. Unless Buttercup had already gotten to her . . . right. Not a chance. "Oh, god."

Utonium mused thoughtfully, "Amazingly, even though he's nicer, he's the more annoying of the two."

Suddenly the door slammed open and Hurricane Dexter arrived. He tried to fill the doorway, but he was really too short to be imposing. It struck Ben that Dexter's quiet dignity and poise were so much more impressive - not to mention intimidating – than this loud aggression.

"You twits done talking about us?"

A second redhead popped around the corner, squeezing past his counterpart. "Don't call our father a twit!" Saint Dexter exclaimed, scandalized.

The rude Dexter rolled his eyes. "Fine. Yo, twit. Yo, stuffed shirt. Done talking about us?"

"No, but we can finish the conversation later," Utonium replied in reasonable tones, not rising to the bait.

Seeing them side-by-side, Ben took a moment to study his boyfriend. Boyfriends? Boyfriend 2.0? +1? Whatever. Bubbly or grumpy, they were both cute, though now that they were still for a moment he could see they weren't quite identical. They both had that cowlick atop their heads, but Rude Dexter's hair was straighter and a little darker. The Nice Dexter's face was rounder, making him look a little younger. Their expressions were radically different, but Ben was used to seeing smiles and scowls on Dexter. Getting both expressions at once was a little weird, but that was par for the course right now. Their body language was the same, and though they both stood with their hands on their hips and their heads canted, one managed to ooze annoyance while the other gushed indulgence.

"We're going back to the laboratory," cooed the polite version, clasping his hands in excitement. He wiggled like a puppy, which caused his twin to roll his eyes. "We have so much lovely work to do."

"No shi-"

Warned Utonium, "Dexter."

"Kidding," he amended dryly, distributing glares all about. "If I can get scatterbrain here to focus a little, we should be able to get caught up by tomorrow night."

Nice Dexter beamed. "If!"

"Shut up, idiot."

"Boys," he said, trying to keep them from needling each other. "That's good to hear. Is there anything we can do to help?"

Ben highly suspected he would be more relieved to have one son back than to get production at DexCorp back up to speed.

"No meatloaf for dinner," ordered the short and cranky dictator. "I hate that crap. Get us something decent to eat for once and something deep fried and covered in chocolate for dessert."

"Fair enough," said the Professor. He looked at the happy-clappy copy. "Dexter?"

"Dad, I'm sure that anything you choose to serve for dinner will be delicious." He nudged his twin. "Don't be so inconsiderate, Dexter. Benjamin, would you like to read to me in French while I focus?"

Caught, Ben hesitated. "Uh . . ."

He clapped his hands in excitement and all but squealed, "Goody! I can help you with your pronunciation and correct any booboos you might make."

"See what I mean?" asked Utonium under his breath.

()()()()()()()()()()

". . . and so I had to explain to Bubbles that sinister, meaning left, is the opposite of dexter, meaning right, and so for her story's exposition to describe the 'dark' version of Dexter's appearance as sinister was an oxymoron because she was essentially saying that right was left!"

Fist pounding the table, Dexter laughed himself breathless at his own wit. Ben quietly gaped, never before having been bored silly in Dexter's presence. It was a novel experience, but he desperately wished he'd shut up about fanfic starring the both of them.

"Guess you had to be there," he finally muttered.

He was doing everything he could to keep the polite copy of his boyfriend on track and working and the results, as far as he could tell, were indifferent. In the meantime, the rude copy was focused to the point of obsessed, as scary as his other half was annoying. Ben felt very much stuck in the middle as one Dexter designed (or tried to) and the other fabricated. It didn't help that they were working on opposite ends of the laboratory (though that was undoubtedly the safest option) and Ben felt obligated to make sure both Dexters were okay, meaning he got a lot of walking done. It was also exasperating. One Dexter ignored or growled insults and orders at him, the other tried to kill him with kindness when it really wasn't called for. Every time he came back, the polite Dexter's attention had wandered off (or he had) and it took major effort to get him back to the work station and to reapply himself. He'd never worked so hard at this boyfriend thing before in his life.

"Have I done something wrong, Benjamin?"

The abrupt seriousness in Dexter's voice caught him off guard. "Wha?"

Abandoning his design work, he turned to face Ben. "I know should have told you before you came, not just sent you a note, but it's been so long since you've been able to get home that I didn't want to deny myself or you the opportunity to spend time together. I miss you so much when you're at the front, and I was afraid if I told you everything you might not come. I know I'm irritating you. I don't mean to, my love. It's just that this part of me isn't as . . . intense."

He looked so small and put out and worried that Ben was incapable of holding on to his frustration. Yeah, he was maddening, but he always had been and what he was doing, he was doing to move the war effort forward. It was costing him, too and he was painfully aware of Ben's attitude.

"You're irritating no matter what, Dex," he replied. "It's one of the things I love most about you." And he did love that and the fact that Dexter totally got his brand of teasing.

A genuinely happy smile was his reward. Dexter leaned on his hand, taking in the view. "Then right now you must be absolutely smitten."

Ben mirrored his stance. "To put it mildly."

"I owe you an apology, too."

"Why?"

"I was impolite. I didn't greet you properly."

Ben made a face, pretending to mull over his options. "Feel free to make up for lost time."

Immediately Dexter was on his feet and straddling Ben's lap, his momentum sending the chair rolling to the center of the work station. He cupped Ben's face in both hands and proceeded to steal his breath away. Soft, warm lips pressed against Ben's mouth and a hard, hot groin ground against his hips. Instinctively his hands slid up beneath Dexter's lab coat to grip his narrow waist and pull him in closer. A hum of pleasure escaped Dexter's throat, echoed by a hungry growl from Ben's as they got down to the very gratifying business of trying to devour one another.

This part of him wasn't as intense? Ben's brain refused to believe that statement as he pulled at Dexter's clothes, trying to figure out how to get him undressed without letting go or making any move that would dislodge Dexter's oh-so-talented tongue from his mouth. It was an interesting challenge to say the least and one he wasn't up to meeting at the moment because his roving hands had found bare skin and Dexter's hands were working on loosening the waistband of his jeans.

Why the hell did they always try to do this sort of thing in the most inconvenient spots possible? A Megabot. The piano stool. The gap between the couch and the coffee table. A whole expansive lab around them and here they were jammed into a chair trying to have sex. What was wrong with a bed?

Then again, thought Ben as Dexter paused long enough to peel off those latex gloves, who the hell needed one?

Suddenly the sound of metal smashing plastic made them jump apart. Startled, awkward, fumbling, Ben lunged to keep Dexter from falling off his lap as he looked for the source of the interruption. Dexter. Ben had forgotten they weren't alone down here . . . not really. Guilt seized him. They were supposed to be working. The other Dexter had been working while they . . .

Struggling to straighten his glasses and get his bearings back, Dexter twisted about to face his counterpart. The other Dexter was beyond furious, beyond hurt, and almost beyond reason. Ben felt the young man on his lap suck in his breath in a gasp. Following his gaze, Ben saw the shattered remains of the Sapsucker prototype amidst the wreckage of Dexter's computer. A little sound of despair rose up in Dexter's throat at the sight of all their hard work ruined and his other self so incensed.

"And you call me inconsiderate?" hissed Dexter with savage passion. "I'm done here."

He turned and stalked away, throwing his dirty gloves aside as he headed for the blast doors. His voice rose up in a string of fiery curses as he ordered Computress to have the elevator ready. Ben sighed, hanging his head, realizing what he had done and to whom and hating himself for it. Once upon a time he'd sworn not to hurt Dexter ever again, but he'd just managed to do just that - and in spectacular fashion.

Dexter clambered off his lap and went to stare at the wreckage, a despondent look on his face as he lifted the broken pieces of the Sapsucker. Ben hastily straightened his clothes and joined him at the work station to stare at it too.

"Think you can fix it?" he asked anxiously.

By Dexter's tone it was evident he was on the verge of tears. "This? Maybe. Him?" He shook his head and sniffed, looking up at Ben with a helpless gesture. "I don't know." He was trembling, not up to such a confrontation. "I – I need to go find him. I need to apologize."

"Yeah, no." Ben raised both hands, trying to calm him. He suddenly understood Dexter's need to be in two places at once. "I'll go find him, Dex. I'll try to get him to talk. You work on this, I'll work on him."

Dexter nodded, completely hangdog. "All right. Thank you. I'm sorry I've put you in the middle of this, Benjamin."

He answered with bravado he didn't quite feel. "Stuck between two cute redheads. I can think of worse places to be."

Dexter tried to smile. Ben managed it, and then planted a quick kiss atop that red hair before jogging toward the elevators.