Author: Lopsided Weevil
Archiving: nope
Starring: Mulder, Krycek, Skinner, Spender

Summary: A bit of an experiment. This started out as two very different story ideas and I decided to try merging them to see if I could successfully mix comedy and drama. Let me know if you think the experiment worked.

Thanks: To Drovar, for great advice.


Walter Skinner awoke with the first annoying ring of the telephone. Trying vainly to control heavy, squinted eyes, he read the clock - from the best that he could tell it appeared to be just after midnight.

"Hello," he said with his first gravely voice after being woken up unexpectedly. He only hoped that it wasn't work calling with some unfortunate crisis, but what else could it be at this late hour? Mulder, perhaps? That troublesome agent had a bad habit of waking him up at all hours for the most inconvenient and bothersome of reasons.

"You are my obsession."

"What?" He demanded angrily, the caller's bizarre message bringing him to full and unhappy consciousness.

"I cannot sleep, I am a possession, unopen at your feet."

"Oh fuck," he said and then hung up the phone. "God-damned crank callers." But as he was tossing the receiver in the general direction of the phone's base, he managed to hit the power button on the clock radio. The evil thing began to blare loud disco music into the room, some bass-heavy tribal rhythm with a monotonous, repetitive beat. Fumbling in the dark, he tried his best to quickly extinguish the offending noise and simultaneously hang up the phone.

Having finally accomplished his mission, he rolled over and tried to remember what unconsciousness felt like. Lying on his stomach, the broad muscles of his back were exposed to the warm night air. He could feel the tense knots brought on by the caller but could do little to untie them. It was going to be hours before he would return to his much needed dreamworld. Damn-it, for once he'd like to get eight hours sleep so that he could be in a cheerful mood in the morning, but it wasn't to be. He 'd be lucky if he got four or five hours of sleep and then he'd go in and bite Mulder's head off and maybe stare glaringly at Scully. Well, okay, maybe there were some side benefits of not getting enough sleep, but god he was tired.

Just as he was drifting back off to sleep, the evil returned, the evil in the form of the damnable song. The words echoed in his head:

In the Navy, you can sail the seven seas
In the Navy, you can put your mind at ease
Come on and join your fellow man


They want you, they want you
They want you as a new recruit!

As the beat pounded in his head, his brain was overrun with images of half-naked sailors cavorting on the deck of some generic navy battleship, their sweaty chests glistening in the bright sunshine. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Damn the Village People, damn them all to hell. He grabbed a pillow and covered his head, trying to block out the musical nightmare.



Jeffrey Spender had just shut down his computer after a long night of surfing the internet looking for pictures of that hot new actor on the Sci Fi Channel's Farscape program. He hated how the show teased, giving only shadowy glimpses of John Crichton's naked torso. Jeffrey was a sucker for a guy with a broad, hairy chest and he just knew that hiding under all those oh-so-tight t-shirts the actor wore was a set of pecks the likes of which could win him a Mr. Universe contest. Yum.

He loved Friday-night TV. There was Farscape and that other new show, First Wave, with that hot blonde guy, or on Showtime he could watch Total Recall 2070 starring that guy that had the notoriously big dick on Ally MacBeal. Woof woof.

He used to watch Millennium but then he saw this guy on there once that looked just like him and it freaked him out, so he stopped watching it. Besides, since they moved the show to Washington, it just wasn't as interesting, it reminded him too much of his own job, and god wasn't eight hours a day of that boring enough without having to watch an hour of it on TV?

He walked over to the printer and grabbed the pictures he'd sent earlier. Alt.Male.Celebrities.Nude was his favorite newsgroup and tonight he'd scored big time. One of these days he was going to teach himself how to use a good paint program and then he'd go to town on one of those pics of John Crichton. Hubba, hubba!

Somewhere, from a lost corner of his mind, the words to an old song from his youth bubbled to the surface:

Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree
I travel the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something
Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused

John Crichton could abuse *him* any night. Oh yeah.
As he flipped the last power switch on the printer before turning in for bed, the phone rang. Looking at his watch, he noted the time, nearly 12:30; who would be calling this late at night, he wondered. As he picked up the receiver, he only hoped it wasn't his father. If there was anyone that could get him down after a hot night of surfing the web, it was dear old dad.

"Spender here."

"You are an obsession."


"I cannot sleep. I am a possession, unopen at your feet."

"Cool!" Spender loved talking dirty, and if someone wanted to do it without charging him $3.95 a minute, so much the better! Not that he'd ever had the nerve to call one of those numbers, but heck even if he'd never called 976-HOT-N-HAIRY, maybe he'd get to experience the thrill tonight!

"There is no balance, no equality. Be still, I will not accept defeat."

"Really?" Whoever this guy was, he certainly had a creative way of talking smutty, though the words did sound strangely familiar. And that voice, it was so deep and richly textural. He wondered if his caller was wearing leather. Heck, it didn't matter, he could imagine anything he wanted, this was phone sex! He could imagine John on the other end, making a call across the galaxy from his ship the Moyra, a secret call only to him. He'd be hidden in one of the dark corners of the space ship, wearing only a pair of black leather bikini briefs and maybe holding a riding crop. Oh brother! This phone sex thing could be fun!

"I will have you, yes I will have you. I will find a way and I will have you. Like a butterfly, a wild butterfly I will collect you and capture you."

"Kinky. Will you tie me up? I'd like that, if you'd tie me up, I mean."

For a few moments there was nothing but silence on the line, and Spender wondered if this was going to be the heavy breathing portion of the night's program. This was getting good. He settled down on the couch and was just unzipping his pants when the line went dead.





Mulder awoke groggily and instinctively reached over to the night stand to bring the ringing cellphone to his ear.

"Scully, what's wrong?"

"You are my obsession." The voice on the other end definitely wasn't Scully, not unless she'd secretly had a sex-change operation in the last 6 hours.


"I feed you and drink you by day and by night.
I need you, I need you by sun and candlelight."

Mulder tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes and take in the strange words coming from the phone. Had he heard it right, something about dripping candle wax?

"Your face appears again, I see beauty there but I see danger. Stranger beware of circumstance in your naked dreams. Your obsession is not what it seems."

"Okay." He let the word drawl out, like a question, unsure of whether to hang up or play along.

"My fantasy has turned to madness, and all my goodness has turned to badness. My need to possess you has consumed my soul. My life is trembling, I have no control."

"That's a bit over the top, don't you think?"

"You are an obsession, you're my obsession. Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?"

"Very cute Alex, calling me up in the middle of the night and using song lyrics to get your rocks off."

There was only silence on the other end of the phone.

"And get your hand off my ass while you're at it, will you?"

Rolling over, he now faced his bed partner, one Alex Krycek, who was also holding a phone in his hand. The mischievous agent had the look of the devil about him, a naughty grin on his face, green eyes glowing brightly and a raised eyebrow suggesting that generally slutty behavior was being enjoyed. Mulder folded up his cellphone and absent-mindedly dropped it somewhere midway down the bedcovers ensuring that it would be impossible to find in the morning.

"I suppose you're horny."

"I'm always horny Mulder, haven't you figured that out yet?"

"Oh I'm learning real fast, partner."

Alex responded with an even bigger grin on his face, shining his pearly white teeth.

"I suppose I'm the fourth or fifth person you called tonight."

"Something like that."

"You really need to stop watching VH1 all night, you'll never get any sleep."

"Hey, I happen to think that the Behind the Music special on Milli Vanilli was provocative and thought provoking. Besides, I have lots of other ways to avoid sleep, Mulder. Wanna play along?"

It was that grin, that evil grin that Mulder could never resist and those eyes, the way they glowed so brightly framed by those delicate eyelashes. Alex Krycek was an addiction he just couldn't shake. It was time for another hit, another taste of the drug that consumed him. What were those lyrics Alex had used? "You are an obsession, you are my obsession." Indeed, Alex Krycek was one hell of an obsession.

He reached over and pulled the covers down, exposing the heart of his addiction. Alex was wearing a clean white t-shirt and nothing else, while his right hand was wrapped tightly around his engorged weapon of love. Mulder took a deep breath and tried to work his mouth around the damned thing.

He wasn't very good at this sort of thing, but he was getting better. He'd been listening to Alex's instructions and following his desires in hopes of improving his skills at lovemaking. Alex had been patient and understanding, and had only winced once or twice when Mulder had accidentally forgotten about the fact that sharp teeth and soft skin didn't always get along.

How had Alex described it the first time Mulder had given it a try? He'd called it doing the Hokey-Pokey, "you lick the head around, that's what it's all about..." Oh, yeah, he'd almost forgotten that part. He pulled Alex's cock out of his mouth and proceeded to slowly work his tongue around the tip. The moans coming from the other end of the bed indicated that he was doing a good job. This was another one of Alex's lessons, listening, watching for the signals of what your partner wanted. A good lover could interpret these signals and enhance the pleasure quotient. Only by listening and communicating could a truly great orgasm be achieved.

That was one thing that most intrigued him about this relationship, how Alex was so willing to communicate with him and discuss the intricacies of lovemaking. It had been a long time since Mulder had felt the need to be mentored, to be the apprentice to a master, but here with Alex he was more than willing to take his lessons on a nightly basis. This was a mutual admiration society, and both men were eagerly enjoying the company of the other.

He was initially unsure, fearing that their first encounter had been a mistake, a one night stand that would only lead to some painful confrontation, or worse, an unhappy betrayal. But that first night had been magic, not at all like what he had expected.

He was prepared for something approaching hot monkey sex, in many ways that's what he most wanted from Alex at the time, one night of scorching hot sex. But instead he had been treated to a slow, passionate lovemaking session. Sure, when they first got into the room, they had practically ripped each other's clothes off, but then Alex had paused, holding Mulder back. He said he wanted to take it nice and slow and do it right. They'd spent the better part of the night and most of the next morning together, taking from each other, giving to each other and all the while talking, communicating. He'd never been with anyone that talked as much as Alex did in bed and it was so unlike how Alex was during the day. And the conversation wasn't just about sex or what to suck next or where to stick what, it was much more than that, much more.

The next morning he'd barely been able to make it through his work day, and yet there was Alex by his side, full of life and energy. That was the moment that he'd considered himself as having been truly and royally fucked off his feet.

And as each night had progressed the sex had gotten better, but somehow less important. It wasn't about sex anymore, it was about being alone together, about a shared intimacy, about being with and talking with a trusted friend, someone you couldn't live without.

The words of Alex's song returned to his mind:

"I feed you and drink you by day and by night, I need you, I need you by sun and candlelight."

Still, Mulder knew that there were barriers, things that Alex was keeping from him. It was these hidden places Mulder most wanted to reach, most needed to explore, to better understand the man that had become his lover. Could he risk it? Should he reach out and probe into the darkness, lift the veil and uncover what was hidden there?

Mulder decided that it as time to move on and change things up a bit. Giving the head of Alex's cock on last parting kiss, he moved up his lover's body. After all, Alex had so much luscious flesh to offer, it made sense to spread the pleasure around. By the time Mulder's lips reached Alex's he could tell that the heat of passion was building to the boiling point. Mulder now sat astride his lover's loins and his hands were working a frenzied pace up and down his body. If it just weren't for the t-shirt he was wearing, that damnable t-shirt. He wore the thing every night and seemingly refused to take it off. But tonight, it was time to peel the grape and reach the juice flesh underneath.

As Mulder reached under the edge of Alex's t-shirt his hand was greeted with a sudden grasp from Alex's own hand. Confused by the unexpectedly firm grip of his partner, Mulder looked into his eyes. What he saw was no longer a joyous playfulness, but instead an angry, fearful expression. The room seemed to get darker and colder with Alex's unhappy expression.

Mulder looked deeply into his firey green eyes, searching for an answer, a reason for this reaction, but was only more confused. The change in his companion sent a shiver up his spine as he pulled away. Had he done something wrong? Had he reached one of Alex's hidden places?

"What's wrong, Alex?"

"Nothing." His face was stoney cold and his body was ridged and tense. Mulder no longer felt the aching hardness of his lover's erection pressing against him, it had faded away with the darkness and become flaccid and cold. Mulder rolled off of him to lay down at his side and despite the fact that their shoulders remained touching, he felt a yawning gap opening up between them. He wanted to reach out and take his lover's hand, but could not find the energy or will to bridge the unexpected distance between them.

Unconsciously, he reached up with the hand nearest Alex and scratched at his own nose then put the hand down across his chest, furthering the distance separating them. He was trying to think of something to say, some way of asking the question that was gnawing at the back of his mind, but the words escaped him. He felt Alex shift slightly in the bed moving himself still further away. Mulder responded the only way he knew how, with a heavy sigh and a longing look across the chasm that separated the two men. How could it have changed so suddenly, how could he have gone from providing such pleasure to this man, and now find it turned into anger and pain?

"Is there a problem?" he finally asked.


"That's under the t-shirt Alex?"


"Then why won't you take it off?"

Alex rolled over, turning his back to Mulder's inquiry.

"We've been together a dozen times, Alex, and you never take your shirt off. You don't have anything to be ashamed of Alex, look at me, I'm not ashamed of my little pouch." Mulder half-heartedly patted himself on the tummy.

Alex continued to lay there, silent and still. Mulder was about to give up, to get his clothes and spend the night sleeping in the safety of his leather couch, when he decided to try one more time.

"Alex, please." He reached over and hesitantly placed his hand on his lover's shoulder, gently stroking down his bicep.

Unexpectantly, Alex sat up turning his back to Mulder and his feet touching the cold floor. Mulder noted a heavy sigh from his lover as he hung his head, almost in shame. Whatever it was that he was hiding must be serious indeed. He watched as Alex stood up, removing himself from the bed and quietly walked several paces away, still with his back to Mulder. He paused and then turned to face the bed, his head still hung low. Alex took several deep breaths through his nostrils and then lifted his head up and looked directly at him, his green eyes burning. In one slow, fluid move, the shirt was lifted up and over his head then released to drop to the floor.

As the simple piece of cotton fabric hit the floor it was as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Alex stood taller, prouder and looked directly ahead, directly into Mulder's eyes, his gaze locking hard and fast. Alex returned to the bed, lifting the sheets up and slipped his naked, well toned body between the rumbled white sheets. He now lay on his back beside Mulder and through it all he never lost contact with him, never broke his gaze. Those eyes seemed to be saying a million things at once, and yet not a single word was uttered, not a single syllable slipped from his lips.

Again, the words of Alex's song echoed in his ears:

"Your face appears again,
I see beauty there
but I see danger
Stranger beware
of circumstance
in your naked dreams
Your obsession is not what it seems."

Confused, Mulder considered his options. Should he ask Alex about this incident, try and figure out the mystery, or should he act as if nothing had happened? Asking too many questions might only increase the tension, but he had to know, had to understand why this simple act had been so difficult.

Maybe there was another way, a different approach to coax the information out of him. He reached over and gently stroked Alex's chest, playing with the little hairs that ran between his pecks. It was time to make his move. He rolled over and seated himself across Alex's midsection.

Suggestively, Mulder bounced up and down on Alex's crotch and, raising his hand, said, "ride 'em cowboy!"

He was surprized by Alex's mild, almost non-reaction to his playful little joke. Normally he loved sexual banter and fantasy roleplaying. Or was Alex's humor only a mask to cover some deeply hidden pain? He tried not to think about it and decided to focus on the task at hand. If some new truth were to be revealed tonight, he could be patient and give Alex the time he needed. Sometimes the key to communicating was knowing when to be silent and when to wait and listen.

Reaching into the drawer in the nightstand, he took out a small bottle of massage oil. He worked the magical oils into his lover's smooth skin gently relaxing the muscles of his chest. It was impressive how smooth and toned his chest was. Alex must work out on a regular basis, so why woud he want to cover up such an impressive physique? Bending down, he kissed him, responding to the growing passion in his loins. "Roll over, I want to do your back."

For a moment, he thought he saw a flash of fear or panic in his lover's eyes. But being so close to him during their kiss, he was unsure if he was reading the facial expressions correctly. But there had been a reaction to his words, of this there was no doubt. Mulder lifted himself off Alex slightly so that he could roll over.

Alex seemed to hesitate at first, grabbing tightly onto Mulder's legs, but then his grip was released and the tension eased. He noted the younger man's furrowed brow and the doubt and confusion in his sad eyes. Alex seemed to be desperately trying to say or come to grips with something without speaking. Or maybe he was searching for something, searching for something in Mulder's own eyes. But what? Was he searching for some truth or some level of trust? Mulder could only hope that he had in his heart that which his lover seeked. After a moment, the eyes calmed and the brow relaxed and Alex's face appeared to indicate that he'd reached a decision. His hand's gently stroked Mulder's thigh and he smiled hesitantly. Silently, Alex turned over onto his stomach, revealing his back to the summer's warm night air.

Mulder froze, suddenly unsure of how to react to the image that was confronting his eyes. Should he touch him? He couldn't. Alex's back, the man's beautiful soft skin was covered in deep red slashes. Clearly, at some time in his past, he had been beaten with some sort of whip or perhaps a belt. Mulder's mind was full of conflict, on one hand his scientific brain was quickly and thoroughly analyzing the physical evidence presented by the scars on Krycek's back, but on the other hand, his mind was having emotional difficulty dealing with this same screaming evidence of violence.

He closed his eyes, but was unable to block out the images. As he opened them again, he could see his hands shaking only inches away from the scars that covered his lover's innocent flesh. Who? What? How? His mind was overflowing with questions, questions his education and experience taught him to ask, but that his emotions were unwilling to grapple with. He had to act, he had to react, he knew that Alex was waiting to see what he would do, how he would handle with horrific revelation.

And then, suddenly, it all fell away. This wasn't about the horrors of the past and how they had been visited upon his lover, this was about trust, communication. Alex had revealed this deepest part of himself, and now he would be tested, to see what he would do. Would he turn away in disgust and horror, or would he embrace Alex and fail him equally with pity? Mulder would do, could do neither. There must be a way for him to reach Alex, reach out to him and communicate how he felt. Surely there was a way of diffusing the situation, but how?

Subconsciously, Mulder began to hum, to release the tension of the situation with a song from some far corner of his mind. The humming continued, and the song increasingly took over his every thought, he was wrapped up in it. Setting aside the pain of what he was trying to come to grips with, he focused on the song. He tried to remember the singer, the group that had recorded it. Kathy? Corina? Caroline? Coriander and the, the, what? Katrina and Tidal Waves? And then the words came out of his mouth. Quietly at first, but there they were:

"I used to think maybe you loved me, now I know that it's true
And I don't wanna spend my whole life just a waitin' for you Now I don't want you back for the weekend, not back for a day I said baby I just want you back and I want you to stay."

As he quietly sang the words and let them float around the room, his hands instinctively reached down and began to massage his lover's tender flesh. Bending down, he whispered the chorus in Alex's ear:

"I'm walkin' on sunshine, whoa oh, I'm walkin' on sunshine,
and don't it feel good, all right now, and don't it feel good."

Alex finally acknowledged his words and his touch, "Mulder what the heck are you singing?"

Mulder responded to the question by peppering Alex's neck with soft kisses and a gentle nibble on his earlobe. "Roll over damnit, I wanna kiss you."

Alex eagerly responded to his lover's demand, and added his own lyrical comment:

"Oh Mulder, you're so fine, you're so fine it blows my mind,
hey Mulder, hey hey, Mulder."

He paused, trying to place the lyrics. Images of big, butch cheerleaders exploded in his head, and he let out a little laugh. Alex was good at this game.

"Hey, Mulder."


"Wanna cuddle?"


The two men embraced, each holding the other tightly. As Mulder drifted off to sleep, he knew that there would be time and that there was no need to worry. He could put aside the issues that had been brought up by Alex's revelation and sleep happily in his arms. In the morning the two would talk, perhaps over breakfast or maybe during a private dinner in some secluded restaurant and that Alex would tell him about his past. He trusted Alex now, and knew that whatever happened that they could work it out. It was only a matter of communicating, of not holding back and their relationship would only grow stronger.


Just as Mulder was drifting off to sleep, he heard the disturbing ring of a cellphone. Alex's cellphone. Only Alex would have a phone that chirped the theme song to Scooby Doo. Reaching over to the nightstand, he picked it up and answered, "Uh, yeah?"

"Is Big John there?"

Handing the phone to a slowly re-awaking Alex, he said, "I think it's for you loverboy."


In the silence of the dark room, Mulder could hear the man on the other end of the phone, his nervous voice asking, "I think we were cut off earlier. Luckily, I was able to star-69 you. Sorry it took me a while, but I couldn't remember the code, so I started with star-10 and worked my way up."

Using his deepest, sexiest growl of a voice, Alex replied to the caller, "Look, Jeffrey, put your dick back in your pants and go to bed, it's late!" Alex closed the phone and layed it on the nightstand. Pulling Mulder closer to him, Alex kissed him on the forehead.

"How about we go out for breakfast in the morning, there's some stuff we need to talk about."

"Sure, but could we get some sleep first? We can talk in the morning."

- fin -


ps: y'all did know that Walter Skinner used to be
in the Village People, didn't you? Somebody told me he was the Construction Worker, but I'm fairly certain he was the Butch Biker Guy, the one that wore all the leather. Anyway, what I heard was that he got tired of all the partying and of the indian always trying to put makeup on him, so he retired and find himself a nice, safe deskjob.