Your Goblin Majesty

Jean-Paul tried to remain as quiet as possible as he tip toed into the bedroom and shut the door behind him. Careful not to wake his sleeping husband.

Kyle was curled up on the left side of the bed. His head pressed against the pillow, softly dreaming as drool dribbled out of his mouth leaving a small splatter on the case. 

Beautiful. 

Jean-Paul had been gone for...he didn't know how long. Trapped in Nate Grey's so called "utopia, his memories of his former life erased, hunting down anyone who dare express anything close to affection. 

He couldn't remember anything before that time. Not his teenage years spent under the care of Raymonde Belmonde. Not meeting his sister for the first time as an adult. Nor the brief time he spent with his daughter.

As he stared down at Kyle all the memories came rushing back. Cooking dinner together before settling on the couch to decide on a movie. Floating through the air as they danced at their wedding. Long nights curled up in bed wrapped in each other's arms.

Each night he was gone, Jean-Paul would find himself reaching out towards the left side of the bed. Fingers roaming the sheets searching for something...someone. 

Now he has returned to him. Kyle, his wonderful husband, safe and sound in their bed. 

Jean-Paul began to strip out of his uniform. Letting it fall to the floor, leaving him in his underwear. 

He kicked his clothes to the side, his pants sliding past the laundry basket.

As he approached the bed, he briefly considered waking Kyle. His hand was poised to shake his spouse's shoulder. Alert him of his return. His fingers were ready to brush Kyle's skin, but Jean-Paul paused. 

There really was no need for all that. It was the middle of the night after all. Kyle must have been as exhausted as Jean-Paul was. It would be cruel to pull him out of his slumber. 

Besides once up, Kyle would expect an explanation. An answer for where Jean-Paul was this entire time. And Jean-Paul planned to give it to him, don't get him wrong. Just later. 

Like in the morning. 

Or some other time. 

Or never if he could help it. 

Okay, that last one wasn't going to happen and Jean-Paul would tell Kyle everything. When he was ready. 

Which was not now.

Jean-Paul rounded the bed and got up onto his side. The mattress sagging under his weight with a creek. He let out a soft sigh as he lowered himself onto his pillow and tossed the comforter over his frame.

There was nothing like sleeping in one's own bed. Especially after such a long time gone. 

Jean-Paul turned onto his side and continued to gaze at Kyle. His husband's body rose and fell as he breathed softly. The comforter sitting comfortably at his waist, hands tucked under his head. 

He's said it once, he'll say it again...

Beautiful. 

Jean-Paul smiles and leaned over towards the man sleeping beside him. 

"Sweet dreams, my love." 

He pressed his lips onto Kyle's cheek, before settling back onto the bed. Ready to sleep. 

However, just as Jean-Paul's eyes began to close, Kyle's dark eyes popped open. 

He gave a loud shout at the sight of his husband. Jetting upwards, eyes wide with shock, mouth hanging open.

"Jean-Paul?" He asked.

"Yes." Jean-Paul sat up. "Unless you were expecting someone else."

'Please tell me you weren't expecting someone else.'

Kyle wrapped his arms around his husband as pulled him close. Squeezing Jean-Paul against his chest.

"I've been worried sick about you!" Kyle cried. "No one's heard from the X-Men and weeks. We had no idea-"

"I'm alright, Kyle." Jean-Paul was quick to assure his husband. He leaned back and gestured to himself. "No broken bones, no black eyes, I don't even have a scratch on me...see?"

He shot Kyle a smile. Hoping it would ease some of his worries.

Based on the look of horror that was sitting on his husband's face, it did not. 

"Please tell me didn't you arrived home and the first thing you did was not to wake me up?"

Jean-Paul's smile quickly faded. 

"I didn't want to disturb you."

"Too late for that." Kyle turned away from his husband. "You've been gone for...God...I can't even...and you didn't...really, Jean-Paul, you weren't going to..."

Jean-Paul's heart cracked at the sound of Kyle's words breaking. His sentences turning into sniffles. His hands fruitlessly reaching up to wipe tears from his face. 

"I thought you were dead."

A wave of shame washed over Jean-Paul.

He didn't chose to let Kyle sleep not for the sake of his husband's rest, but to avoid talking about his own feelings on the matter. To tell Kyle about all the people he had arrested. Share with him all the lives he had ruined. Own up to all the people he hurt.

'Selfish.' He thought to himself. 'I'm selfish, and mean and terrible. And if Kyle decides to leave after this, it's my fault.'

"I'm sorry." Jean-Paul tried to bit down the lump in his throat as tears welled up in his eyes. "I shouldn't have done that."

He went to wrap his arms around Kyle, but his husband stood up and started heading for the door. 

"Don't go!" Jean-Paul screamed. 

Kyle stopped at the light switch panel and turned around. 

"I'm not going anywhere." He stated softly. "I'm just turning on the lights."

Kyle pulled one of the switches and the room flooded with soft light from the lamp that stood across from their bed. 

"I want to see your face." He told him as he crawled back onto the bed. Kyle's hands cupped each of Jean-Paul's cheeks. Thumbs gently massaging the skin. "I missed it."

Jean-Paul let out a shaky breath. "I missed your face too."

They sat there for several long minutes. Holding one another, for heads pressed together, letting tears fall as they came and went. Stopping to study each other's faces. 

"You got a haircut." Kyle whispered. 

"Yeah." Jean-Paul muttered. 

He focused heavily on Kyle's muscles, resisting the urge to pull away and run his fingers against the sharp shave of the undercut. 

He didn't remember getting this haircut. Or even trying to up keep it. All he knew was that he had it the entire time he was away. 

"Where'd you go?" Kyle finally asks. 

"Umm..." 

Jean-Paul bites his lip. Teeth grinding against it so hard he was certain he would puncture it.

He didn't know how to answer Kyle's question, because Jean-Paul wasn't entirely sure where he went himself. 

A place where love was non-existent. A place where any feeling stronger than casual  comradery was criminalizing. A place so powerful that it managed to tear the memories of his friends, his sister, his husband...the very people he loved most straight out of his head. 

"I'm not sure I could explain it if I wanted to."

"Please try." Kyle said. "That's all I ask. Is that you try."

"Okay." Jean-Paul took a shaky breath. 

He tried to describe the general atmosphere. How peaceful everything looked at first. How safe it was. A false gentleness. 

"You could raise a family there." He laughed. 

"Why's that so funny?"

"Because families weren't allowed."

He explains the rules in great detail. What happened to those who broke them less so. Eventually he gets to the riots and the escape. 

"And then I came home." Jean-Paul said. "Because where else would I go."

He watched as Kyle tried to process all this information. Waiting for his reaction. 

"You said you were on a team," Kyle said. "With Jubilee, Blob, Psylocke, and Bobby."

"Yes."

"What kind of team?"

Jean-Paul actually did puncture his lip this time. A small sticky taste of blood dribbled onto his lip. 

"I...I...Kyle-do we have to talk about it now?"

Kyle noticed the pain that floods his husband's eyes. He ran a smooth hand over his cheek. 

"It's just-it's late and I'm really tired."

"Of course," Kyle nodded. "Of course."

He lowered them down onto their respective pillows, pulling Jean-Paul close, as he tossed the blankets over them. 

"Comfy?"

"Yes." Jean-Paul says, as he nuzzles his head against Kyle's shoulder. "Very."

"Good." 

"Sleep well."

Kyle closes his eyes and Jean-Paul tries to follow suit, but he can feel his heart pound against his rib cage. Shame and guilt waft off of him. He glances back at Kyle.

"It was a bad team." He told him. 

"I figured it wasn't all sunshine in rainbows."

"We did terrible things, Kyle." Jean-Paul stated. "I did...the stuff I did... I'm a monster."

"No you're not." Kyle said. 

"I hurt so many people." Jean-Paul listed. "I imprisoned them, separated them, erased their memories. That's not even the worst part."

"What was the worst part?"

"I remembered you." Jean-Paul. "And I didn't want to."

"You remembered me?" Kyle asked. 

"Bits of you." Jean-Paul said. "I would reach out for you in the middle of the night, and get disappointed when you weren't there. I'd try to erase it from my mind but it kept happening."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad."

"You should be."

Kyle stared at him. "Sweetheart?"

"Yeah." Jean-Paul tilted his head up. 

"Your teammates, they forgot their loved ones too, right?"

"Yes." Jean-Paul said. "Jubilee was worried to death over Shogo."

"Do you think they're bad people for forgetting?'

"No," Jean-Paul spat. "They had their memories altered, this was all normal to them. They didn't know any better."

"Then why, in this same exact situation, are you the bad person?"

"Because I'm different." Jean-Paul stated. "I would've noticed something was off, I could've fought against it, I should've realized something was wrong." 

"Baby..."

"Yes." 

Kyle's hands reach under Jean-Paul's chin and pull him up to face him. Fingers softly retreat as their eyes meet.

"You aren't stronger or smarter than anyone else who was there." Kyle says softly. "There was nothing you could've done. Okay?"

Kyle's words are a punch to the ego. Jean-Paul's first instinct is to fight him on this. Declare that he is stronger and smarter and better than everyone else that was there. That he could've stopped it and if not that at least done something.

However he knows that isn't true. That Kyle is right. That there was nothing he could've done. Much like everybody else. 

Jean-Paul let out a deep sigh. 

"Okay."

He leaned up and kissed Kyle.

"I missed you so much." He stated. "Even if I didn't remember you entirely."

"I missed you too."

Kyle rested his head on Jean-Paul's chest. Jean-Paul's hands wrap around his waist and happily hold him tightly. 

"Good night, my love."

"Good night."

Kyle drifted off first. Jean-Paul stared down at him. His eyes getting heavier and his breathing deeper as darkness took hold of his imagination. 

He was safe now. Curled in his own bed, husband wrapped in his arms, waiting for him to wake up tomorrow. 

Jean-Paul's eyes drifted shut and he let his body sink down into the mattress.