Dexter’s Laboratory Porn Story: Chemical Bonding Chapter 1

Chemical Bonding

By Lennon Karma, Bringer of Weitd Fanfics

I haven’t come to own any of da people from Dexter’s Laboratory since my last Dexter fanfic (to which this fanfic has NO CONNECTION WITH. These are totally separate.), which means I still don’t own any of them. As my new namesake, Bringer of Weird Fanfics proclaims, this one is no exception. It is REALLY weird. But I hope that doesn’t turn you off. (This happens after the Ego Trip thing.) Oh, just for da record, I want to make sure every reader knows that I have absolutely nothing against gays. (I am bisexual myself. But I would still like to own Mandark Y
Y
Y
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PLEEZ R&R!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Spank u 4 ur time. Now 4 da fic.

Chapter 1:

Chemical Properties

“Good morning, class.” The day began as any other. “Good morning, Mr. Luvinski.” The class chorused as they did every morning when science class began. “Today we will continue the work we began yesterday, so find your partner and get started.” Mandark groaned, wishing he would be assigned a new partner today, but of course, he wouldn’t be. He was stuck with his sworn enemy, Dexter. He was a lab partner, but not an ally.

His red haired competitor was, to Mandark, the devil himself. Dexter, one to be despised. Mandark continued to fly through his science worksheet, with the speed of the light waves he was studying. Although Dexter was his lab partner, that did not affect Mandark’s feelings. At least science would be over soon, and he wouldn’t have to see Dexter’s smirking face again until the end of the day. With a flourish, he finished his worksheet, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair. He seeing that sneered in Dexter’s direction, he was not yet done. Satisfied, Mandark packed up his supplies, and waited for the bell.

School was no challenge for him; it was simply an exhibition of his superior skill. His knowledge surpassed that of some of his teachers. There was no stopping him. There was, however, a glitch in his school-oriented world. Every guy talked about how far he’d gone with his girlfriend, and every girl was going on about how cute her boyfriend was and how many times she’s been kissed. Nothing of the sort existed in Mandark’s life. Girls were another species to him; they had no connection with him. Sure he’d been curious, but before he could get up the courage to speak to any of these goddesses, he felt it wasn’t worth it.

The bell rang, and everyone was out the door before its sound had died away. Leaving with the rest, Mandark was in no hurry to leave. He stopped at his locker, and ran a brush slowly through his silken black hair. Secretly, he loved to watch it sparkle. He loved to comb it, run his fingers through it, twirl a strand around his finger. He continued on to lunch thinking about what it would be like to have a girlfriend. It seemed so glamorous when the people around him would talk about the latest couples.

He had often dreamed of DeeDee. She was everything he was not; this was part of her intrigue. She was a creature of the light, while he hid himself in shadow. Rather than try to summon up the courage to speak to her, Mandark admired her from afar. Knowing he was almost guaranteed some sort of undesirable response, he felt safer to just keep it the way it was. It would come to him when the time was right. But if that was true, the “right time” was taking its time. What was wrong?

Lunch passed quickly, and after grabbing his books, he headed for the stairs to go to history class. The crowded stairs were mobbed by people, all in their own worlds. Jostled around, he was finally knocked off his feet, scattering books and papers all over the hall. Hardly anyone noticed; Mandark was usually tripping over something, often his own feet. Crawling on all fours in an effort to gather all his things together, he tried in vain to catch up with his wandering trigonometry homework. “No way in hell am I going to redo those problems. The law of cosines takes forever!” Then, there it was, right in front of his face. “Here.” A boy said to him. Mandark liked the low, sturdy tone of the voice. Looking up, he found a likeable expression, kind, but not pitying, smiling, but not sneering. This was an expression he did not see often. The face was gone as quickly as it had appeared. They were from two unconnected worlds.

Mandark couldn’t help but ponder that encounter. He had never been so awestruck by a moment before. It was such a simple thing, one look. But it overpowered him. He found a pleasure in thinking of it. What was this? He wondered to himself. Why was he so moved by this one thing? He had never even seen this boy before. Not that it mattered. The emotion was there. Shrugging it off as unimportant, he threw himself headfirst once more into his studies.

Mrs. Wolfberg stood at the front of the class, peering over her glasses. “I have handed out your packets of questions for you to answer in class. If you don’t finish it here, take it home and finish it for homework.” Mandark opened his book, and began reading about World War II. He remained focused, skimming through his work easily until he came to question 13:

“Who was persecuted in the Holocaust? Why?”

This didn’t faze him until he began reading the passage that contained the answer. He continued to scrawl robotically onto his paper, “Jews, Poles, Slavs, Gypsies, the mentally retarded, and gays.” Stopping quickly, something occurred to him in a cold flash. Then, calming down, he consoled himself, no, that can’t be it. Not me5

That afternoon when school was over, Mandark shot up to his room and shut the door behind him. The family chant ritual could wait. Other things were more important now. Gently sitting down on the edge of his bed, for the first time, he truly noticed his dcor: flowers on the headboard of his bed, flowers around his mirror, not to mention the name his parents had chosen for him.

Having done enough study of such things to know that sexuality is not a black and white thing. There is a spectrum; it’s difficult to be all straight or all gay. But he knew most people consider themselves one, the other, or right in the middle. He licked his lips, adjusted his tie, and laid back against his pillows. He pictured himself kissing a girl, something he had never done before, except the time Olga destroyed his model rocket and had to apologize and kiss him. But that didn’t count because he was 5 years old, it was on the cheek, and most importantly, she was his sister. Another contribution was how she spat, yelling, “Ewww, Sue!” afterwards. Grimacing at the memory, Mandark removed his glasses and tried to imagine the real thing. In movies, it seemed as if every boy’s first kiss was with the girl of his dreams, and fireworks went off, fanfares sounded, and he always knew what to do, what to say, how to feel. This was not the case for him. Forcing his eyes tighter, he tried to get a reaction. No luck. Not only was the idea not a thrill, but he couldn’t even picture himself with a girl, kissing or otherwise!

Now the ultimate test. Relaxing once more, he tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss a boy. This was more difficult to imagine, as he had never seen two boys kiss before. To him it had been something every boy knew about, but never took interest in. With only a hint of effort, there he was in his mind’s eye, slowly snaking his arms around a large, muscular neck. How could something that repulsed him so be this beautiful? Much as he loved the vision he had created, how could he live that down? The things people would say now that his suspicion was more fully supported5he was gay.

He didn’t want to believe it, but there was really no other explanation. He hadn’t even considered such things before, now suddenly, it was all a part of him. It was so sudden, yet he couldn’t understand how he had never noticed it before; it seemed to obvious to him now. But if it was so obvious to him, had anyone else noticed? Did his parents notice? What would they think?

What did it matter? Although already having been exposed to the stereotypes and insults when they really didn’t affect him, he saw no boundaries. It was his life; he could live it as he wanted. If he could break free of his parents’ grasp to construct his incredible laboratory, he could embark into this lifestyle.

He knew he couldn’t tell anyone. Surely he would only be met with the barrage of harassment he endured on a regular basis, only with that much more intensity behind it. If anyone found out he was5(deep breath)5gay5he didn’t even want to consider. He had always known he had been different, beyond his far-reaching genius. There had been something else. Something that, until now had remained in the cobwebbed corners of his mind, unnoticed, unidentified.

Changing quickly into his pyjamas, Mandark began to wonder about what this meant for his future. He instantly feared it meant he would not live out the American dream: marrying a beautiful woman, and living in the suburbs with two children and a dog. That was unlikely to happen anyway, as he was allergic to dogs, but that was the least of his worries. Falling into an uneasy sleep, he wished he knew what to do when the morning came.

When his alarm went off, he didn’t meet it with his usual laugh. Instead, he rose solemnly, dressed, packed up his briefcase, and waited for the bus. In his state of paranoia, Mandark felt as though all eyes were on him. Could they tell he was gay? Surely not, he confided himself. No one took the slightest interest in his appearance on the bus.

With gym class first period in the day, he couldn’t figure out just how he could be gay and have somehow ignored all the tell-tale signs. Every day, as he and his classmates changed for gym, he had eyed them, head to toe, but mostly in between. He didn’t really notice his gaze wandering; it had become habit. No one else seemed to notice either. All the other boys apparently cared about was winning whatever game was being played that day. Watching a large boy put on a jockstrap, Mandark was filled with a desire, an impulse he would never dare act on, to leap up, and cling to the boy, never letting go.

Gym had never been his best subject. His arms and legs were all over the place, and he made up for it by being slow. Today, he determined to try harder than ever to win the attention of his teammates. Football was definitely not his best sport. It involved hand-eye coordination, running, and teamwork, which for him, was not a good combination. Four fumbles in a row proved that.

The fact that his team was losing 14 to 22 confirmed it. In the last minute, he stood hidden behind the more capable players, his designated position, where he would never have to become part of the game. A long pass brought the ball screeching through the air at top speed. Mandark wanted to stay put, but his feet told him to move. His feet gracefully left the ground, and he landed softly on both feet, cradling the ball. Tearing across the field, Mandark felt his lungs burning, gasping for air, as he neared the endzone. Passing the ball off to another player, he was pulled down from behind to the bottom of a dogpile.

With the final score being 21-22, even though Mandark’s team lost, they were impressed by his brief moment of glory. On his way back to the locker room to put his regular clothes back on, for the first time ever, he was pleased with his performance in gym class. Surprised by a pat on the back, he whirled around quickly to find the team captain. “You did good, Astronomenoff.” Stopping in his tracks and watching the team captain reside to the locker room, Mandark felt a chill run down his back. What, short of heaven, could be so wonderful?

Later that morning, he made his way back to the science room once again. Setting his books down on the table, he glanced briefly across the room, which was long enough. Looking back, he wanted to smack himself across the forehead for not noticing this before. The attractive bone structure. Those flushed, rounded cheeks. The glasses that matched his own. That fiery red hair. Red, the color of desire, and black, the color of despair. Together, these colors summed up Mandark’s feelings of confusion at this moment. How could he feel so passionate for Dexter, his arch-nemesis? This was more than locker-room lust, much more.

Dexter was on his every thought. What could he say other than it was an obsession? Dinner was more monotonous than it was on a typical day; anything without Dexter was hardly anything. Wind Bear paused between bites, seeing the look of distraction on Mandark’s face. “Susan, you are awfully quiet tonight. Is something bothering you?”

Mandark wondered what brought this on, mostly because he was always quiet at dinner. Tabletalk never seemed to involve him, so he just tried to avoid it altogether. “No, father, nothing,” he answered halfheartedly. He was in another world. Olga rested her arms on the table smirking, “He’s just pissed ‘cuz he can’t get girls.” Mandark scowled at her. “Olga,” warned Wind Bear, “Please don’t talk like that at the table.” Olga rolled her eyes, but sat back in her seat and was quiet.

Mandark wished she was right. The fact that it was boys he was after, not girls, compounded the problem over and over. Above all else, he hoped this was just a phase. Maybe it was just a curiosity for other boys, something he would move past. This was unlikely, especially since that is what his parents thought and hoped his fascination with science and technology was: only a passing phase. And just like that case, he knew this one would follow the same rule. This was not going to just disappear.

The sight of Dexter thrilled him, and he couldn’t even pinpoint the reason. It didn’t matter. He would have felt the same way no matter what the reason. Still, with the magnitude of his affection, he couldn’t just let it lie dormant when he knew it needed to be satisfied. There was no way around it: somehow, he would have to tell him.