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spandexinspace · 2 months

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Lyle finds Querl in the bedroom, drenched in golden morning sunlight and standing a little too close to the full body mirror. From what he can see he seems to be studying his own face, a task that the deep scowl it’s set in must make a lot harder.

"You good?" Lyle asks. The way Querl twitches but does not quite startle tells him he’s at least not too deep in thought. Or bewitched by some kind of mirror demon. It has been that kind of month, after all.

"Since when do I have freckles," Querl says in place of actually replying. He sounds annoyed, like he can't believe his skin would dare do this without his permission.

"I don't know. Don't you usually?" Peering over his shoulder Lyle tries to see what has offended him so greatly, but what he can see of Querl’s face in the mirror is about as unblemished as usually, an even tone of soft lime green.

"No."

“I’m not seeing anything.” Lyle closes the distance between them, loosely wrapping his arms around Querl’s waist and resting his head on his shoulder. Querl leans into his touch, the annoyance on his face softening slightly. Up close Lyle can see a faint trail of freckles over the bridge of his nose, a barely perceptible darker shade of green against his skin. But seeing them is a bit like trying to stargaze in the middle of Metropolis.

"Oh, those freckles. They’re pretty cute. But you are pretty cute in general, so that’s kind of a given." Querl snorts and grabs one of Lyle's hands, squeezing it gently. The way he blushes almost hides the freckles entirely.

"That doesn't change the fact that they're new."

"See, I have this theory about that. There's this thing called the sun — you might have heard about it before — and I’ve heard it shoots all this scary radiation at people who are exposed to it for more than four seconds at a time. For example, people who actually go outside."

"Unbelievable."

"I know, I can hardly believe it myself. So anyway, this radiation is really scary and your ski- don't roll your eyes — your skin wants to protect itself from it, so I think it tries to create a pigment that'll reflect the radiation away from your cells."

"Thank you, Lyle, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Glad to be of service." He doesn't want to pull away, and Querl seems content standing there, studying them both in the mirror now. There’s a sense of contentment in the warmth of their entwined bodies.

"I don't think I'd realised how much I'd changed until recently," Querl eventually says, a small wrinkle settling between his brows.

"Compared to what?"

"A few years ago. Before the Legion." Lyle tries to nod, to no real use. He can imagine that'd sneak up on Querl, whose total awareness of his body often seems to amount to an annual semi-drastic haircut.

"Yeah, that's a bit of a change. I used to be taller than you back then, for one." To be fair to Querl, Lyle isn't sure when that particular change occurred either. He'd just woken up one day and been the shortest guy around again, and then he’d moved on with his life.

"I can't say I took particular note of that, but it would be logical, considering my increased height is one of many changes I have noted. Alongside, well…" As Querl trails off his gaze returns to his reflection in the mirror, like he’ll find the right words to say there. There are many differences of course, some that are probably too subtle for even Lyle to notice, but some things are obvious. He used to be so sharp, all points and protruding bones, like a baby bird that hasn't started sprouting feathers yet. Now there's a lean strength there and even a little bit of softness in places, by no means a massive difference in appearance, but the kind of difference that sees him rarely struggling to carry equipment by himself, or getting winded after two or so flights of stairs.

And then there are parts that are visibly different. Like his arms. Or the way his complexion has taken on a more lively, verdant note and half the time he doesn’t even have dark circles under his eyes anymore. He looks good, not just to Lyle’s perhaps slightly rose-tinted eyes, but in a much more general sense. "I look much healthier. I feel healthier," Querl eventually notes, clearly taking a similar train of thought.

"The things you can achieve when someone periodically tells you to eat, sleep and at least pretend to go outside, huh?" Querl grimaces, squirming in Lyle's arms, a token effort judging by the hand still firmly in place over Lyle's. "No need to be thankful." Querl sighs, but does look genuinely unsure for a second.

"I am thankful for what you do… I just… I wish I didn't struggle this much in the first place."

"You're good. Nass happens and I don't mind."

"It's simple to say that."

"Except I really don't! It's nice to be able to care for someone you love, even if it's just making sure they take care of themselves."

"That makes no sense."

"It does though. People feel like they've accomplished something good when they take care of others, thus: endorphins." Lyle angles his head upwards and presses a quick kiss to Querl's jaw. "Also, much more fun to bang someone who has the energy to bang back."

"Grief, Norg," Querl whines. His complaining would be easier to take seriously if he didn’t smile in that croaked way he does when he’s trying and failing to not find something funny.

"Apologies, my liege, I will refrain from making any reference to our nightly activities. And our daily activities. And-" Querl groans loudly and Lyle can't help but laugh. "But seriously, you're good. Both about the being reminded to do stuff thing and the freckles."

"Thank you." He gives Lyle's hand another squeeze. "I'm not sure about the freckles though. Maybe I should just never go outside again."

"Brilliant solution, but wouldn't it be a lot more convenient to experiment on yourself until you figure out how to get rid of them for good?"

"You would do that, wouldn't you?" Querl rolls his eyes again, but presses his back into Lyle’s body in a way that in no shape or form feels like a complaint.

"What can I say, I work with permanent solutions," Lyle says, his voice just a little less steady than he’d want it to be. The sense of warmth he’s feeling suddenly feels like it both has very little and everything to do with his partner’s body heat, and he can’t keep his mind from drifting back to those freckles. He lets out a shaky breath. “Or,” he murmurs, raising his lips to Querl’s ear. “We could just see how far down they go instead.”

#and then Lyle finds out that it's literally just that because his bf never takes his shirt off where the sun shines #this mini fic brought to you by 'Querl should be capable of having freckles but never goes outside'#and 'being with the legion probably did wonders for his physical health and having people who care about him specifically particularly so'#dc comics #losh #querllyle #querl dox #brainiac 5 #lyle norg #invisible kid #my writing

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lemonyinks · 6 months

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I yearn for an au where Lyle and Querl are in their late twenties-early thirties and they are both university professors (Chemistry and Physics respectively). They went to college together and are now married, but no one, either staff or students, realize they are married because they act like enemies.

#lyle is an artist outside of work too #because i want him to be #and he does murals around the campus and the city on off days #Querl volunteers at a wildlife reserve (hello koko)#sigh domestic brainylyle where are you #save me domestic brainylyle #Lyle never wears his ring at work since he works with chemicals and everyone just assumed brainy had a spouse they never met #this can take place 21st or 30th century both works #some of the losh are students some of them are staff #brainylyle #querllyle #lyle norg #querl dox #invisible kid #brainiac 5 #losh #legion of super heroes #i have too many wips or i would write this #they are a very much the kind of couple to get married on a whim and not want a big wedding #they hated the idea of a big wedding #the only people who were at their wedding was Jacques Dani Luornu Brande and Gates #and they just...kinda assumed everyone else knew somehow or another

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radioactive-earthshine · 3 months

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Lyle just minding his own damn business and Earthgov just taps him like "Hey your romantic partner choice is too high of a risk, you must end the association immediately" and he's all "the what fuck off" and everything falls apart.

#lyle norg #querllyle #lylequerl #oh oh no #idea for a new fic #NO #i have too many things on this spreadsheet

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allenasleepsstuff · 2 years

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So now I'm going to start posting my art here too

Nice to meet ya

#losh #legion of super heroes #invisible kid #lyle norg #brainiac 5 #querl dox #querllyle #brainylyle #dc comics #My art 2022

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thestormfall · 2 years

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Heyooo! Happy holidays!!! This is part of LOSH holiday gift exchange and is for @spandexinspace!!! I had to go with querllyle, of course. I hope I did them some justice~~

Back Where we Belong

He remembered the flames flickering in his field of vision, the sounds of the outpost breaking, screens shattering and the shouts piercing through his ears. His own voice, panicked, looking for those that hadn’t made it to the vent.

Most of all, he remembered Brainy - feet still planted firmly on the ground, shield up, protecting the rest of them from the fire. But he didn’t know what expression Brainy held as the almost-blinding explosion went off.

He just knew that the flames never came close enough to the vent and that Brainy’s back was the last thing he saw.

xxxxx

Calling it Legion World, in Lyle’s opinion, made it sound more like an attraction than a base. Rumours had it that there were, in fact, plans to welcome tourists aboard at some point. The Legion had many fans, after all. A man as resourceful as Brande wouldn't miss out on this opportunity. Lyle didn't mind the idea; he wasn't one of the more marketable Legionnaires anyway and honestly he would prefer to keep it like that. Not because it would be more difficult for him to do his job - his espionage tactics relied on him not being seen at all, of course - but he wasn't a fan of being in the media spotlight as some of the others did.

"As long as it doesn't interrupt our work, I'm indifferent to it," Brainy said, after Lyle asked for his opinion. The places they both most frequented, such as the more advanced labs, wouldn't be open to the public.

It was as much as Lyle expected. If his work were to be interrupted, he was sure that Brainy would kick up more of a fuss about it. He might be a bit more accommodating than when Lyle first met him but he still had bite when it came to making sure that only competent people were present in the labs.

While Lyle had never needed Brainy's approval to work in the same vicinity - he had earned his own place there, thank you very much - it did feel good to know that he was actively wanted there. Some might argue that it was simply that Brainy didn't mind anymore but Lyle knew better. There was a difference between Brainy working around you, maneuvering past you as if you were just another object that happened to be in his path, and actually making eye contact and asking for your opinion. "You don't think it will impact efficiency, do you Lyle?"

"It shouldn't. You know, unless one of your rabid fans manages to sneak in here." Lyle gave a sweeping gesture, towards the lab's benches and screens. "You know how they can be."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Brainy, turning back to his current project. Before his face was obscured, Lyle could swear that he saw Brainy's lips curl up for a fraction of a second. "I don't have 'rabid' fans."

"What, you didn't see the interviews?"

"No and I'm not interested in watching them." Wait for it…"Although I have had extracts of what they've said quoted to me. I don't think calling me a genius is an indicator of being a 'rabid' fan. It's factual."

The casual confidence used to be a source of exasperation for Lyle but instead, somewhere along the line it turned into something endearing. Grife, he really had missed Brainy, hadn't he?

"Ah," said Brainy, stopping his tinkering all of a sudden. "Might want to step back Lyle."

"Step back - ?"

There was a loud bang and flames erupted from the contraption Brainy had been trying to reconfigure. There was no delay with Brainy's shield coming up, so the Coluan stood there unphased, head tilted to the side.

Lyle could tell that Brainy was muttering to himself but he couldn't hear it.

His ears were ringing. And the fire, the fire was all around him once again. Licking at Brainy's feet, wrapping its tendrils around them and pulling him in, right into the bright light. Out of Lyle's reach, out of reach from the barred up vent, its walls closing in -

"Lyle!"

He blinked. There was a weight on both his shoulders...Brainy's hands were on them. He felt pressure on his knees too. When had Lyle gotten to the ground?

"Lyle?"

"Oh...you're still here." He regretted saying the words almost immediately after they left his mouth.

Brainy had looked mildly concerned before but now his expression grew more grim. His eyes searched at Lyle's own, like he was probing him. He could tell that Brainy had immediately jumped into problem-finding mode.

"No, I mean I know you're here, Brainy," Lyle said, trying to course correct. "I know that you're back. Just...hard to believe sometimes."

And it was. Especially when not everyone had made it back. Not Candi, not Garth, not Jan.

Brainy had made it though. Lyle had to focus on the real sensation of the hands on his shoulders. He had done the same thing when Brainy first returned.

Lyle was glad for it. He didn't know when Brainy became more comfortable with physical contact but each time he did it came both as a surprise and a comfort.

"It would be best if you got used to believing it soon," said Brainy. "Evidently, the Legion can't function to full capacity without me, so I won't be going anywhere again soon." He smiled. "I'll leave the disappearing acts to you, Norg."

Letting out a breath, Lyle leaned forward until his forehead touched Brainy's own. He closed his eyes. Yes, this felt real, indeed. It would take a bit of time for those old nightmares to completely dissipate but he has a feeling he would get there.

"True. I'm sure I'll need it to dodge your fans. They wouldn't be happy if they saw us like this."

He felt Brainy stiffen and the Coluan drew back, cheeks flushed a darker green. "Ahem. Seems like you are well enough." He helped Lyle up, though he quickly averted his eyes and turned his attention to the partially damaged workspace. "As that is the case, I'd appreciate it if you could help me with this."

Lyle stared at Brainy's back for a moment before stepping forward to stand beside him.

"Sure thing. Now let's see what you blew up this time..."

#brainylyle #querllyle #brainiac 5 #lyle norg #legion of super-heroes #losh #thestormfall #fanfic #ii know this was supposed to go up yesterday but I had guests over so HERE IT IS #hope you like it too~

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spandexinspace · 4 months

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Which is to say Lyle probably doesn't feel great about what happened there. And there should be a scene of him standing in front of that tube, maybe not exactly doing much but definitely feeling much. Especially if this is also right around where they're both starting to realise that there may be or become something more between them.

#dc comics #losh #Querllyle #Whoops let the guy you were crushing on get stabbed halfway to death because you weren't doing your job properly

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spandexinspace · 6 months

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Mother Says

Querl visits his mother. This benefits no one. ___________________________________________

“Hello, mother.” The woman on the other side of the blue-tinted force field looks up. She has not changed much since the last time Querl saw her, tall and wiry with long blonde hair cascading around a face he can’t help but pick out every similarity in. She’s holding a prison-issued holopad, the kind the warden swears can’t be connected to any off-world network or used for anything illegal or improper, yet in her thin, sallow hands it looks as much a weapon as any blade or blaster, capable of wrecking as much havoc as she ever could with her freedom intact. He makes a mental note to question the warden about it later, to ask why someone like her, like them, is allowed near a device like that.

“Querl,” she says, her mouth twisting into a toothy replica of a smile. Her eyes remain fixed on him, still and cold, enough to send a chill up his spine. “I’m so glad you could come.”

“What do you want?” Querl crosses his arms, shifting from one foot to the other. He’d felt utterly confident when he’d first received her correspondence and had to justify the visit to his deeply sceptical friends, but as he stands there in front of her — awash in the reality of her presence — he doesn’t feel so confident anymore. What had seemed like a reasonable request at the time now feels like just another stupid, emotional mistake. He’s made a lot of those recently.

One of his thought tracks recalls those dreams he used to have as a child, the ones where she didn’t leave. Or the ones where she’d show up out of the blue to save him. In those dreams she was kind and caring, she’d listen and encourage him and smile ever so sweetly even though he could never quite focus on her face. He’d hated waking up from those dreams then, because waking up meant facing the reality of her absence. This feels like waking up.

“Is that any way to talk to your mother?” she asks, snapping him back to reality. “Now, I was reading the news the other day and came across this fascinating article about you and one of your little hero friends,” she continues, still smiling, but it’s the smile of someone who only knows how to go through the motions. Speaking in a noticeably higher voice than during their last meeting she lets it rise and fall like every word and sentence has been rehearsed a thousand times over. It itches at the back of his mind like a scabbing wound. He wonders why she cares.

“I fail to see how that requires my presence here.” As much as it had surprised him to find out that she was allowed to send messages — that she’d finally decided to do so now, after so long — he had figured she must have something important to say if she went through the trouble of doing so.

“Should your own mommy have to deign herself to reading meritless magazines to know what you are, what do the Terrans you love so much call it… up to?” Despite her well-practised enunciation the words roll off her tongue awkwardly, like someone has made last minute edits to her carefully practised script. He wants to tell himself that that’s good, that maybe she’s trying to improve and change, but it makes his skin crawl.

“Again, what do you want? You said it was urgent, and your sudden interest in my life could hardly be classified as such.”

She continues as if he’d said nothing at all.

"This friend of yours is human, is he not? How long do they live — one, two hundred years?” she says. ”Don't you think you’re being awfully selfish, stealing his entire life away while you give him only a fragment of yours? Remaining young and reckless as he grows weak and frail by your side, unable to live a normal human life because of you?" She rearranges her face into a mockery of concern. "Is that what he deserves?"

Querl grits his teeth, his hands curling into fists at his sides. Anger flares in his chest, hot and acidic. What an idiot he has been. Again. Of course she doesn’t have an actual reason to see him. This is just another game to her, a new angle to sow her misery. All she’s ever wanted from him has been for her benefit, there’s no reason for that to have changed now. The only logical decision would be to walk away and leave her alone with her poisonous words, to cut her out of his life once and for all and never come running at her call again.

He steps forward.

"As if you care."

She stands. Even now she towers above him, forcing him to tilt his head back to meet her gaze, no less imposing behind a force field and clad in prison greys. Her eyes narrow until the concern has been replaced by a sneer, but even that seems like a strange emotion to her, like something she’s heard about and only vaguely knows how to articulate.

"You care. You're as addled by your emotions as all the other mindless beings out there," she says. “And you know that my assessment is correct. You will outlive your friends and then there’ll be no one left to care for you and your fragile mind. And they will all suffer for it, as you walk alongside them and show them what the universe has denied them.”

His jaw aches, his body so tense it feels like it could snap. He imagines throwing himself against the forcefield, futilely pounding his fists into it until she stops talking. Pushing down the bile and urge to yell he forces his voice to remain steady, speaking in short and clipped words.

"Why did you ask me to come here?" he says.

"Sweetheart, mommy only wanted to make sure you're not getting in over your head." Once again her voice is saccharine, the very model of a doting mother’s voice.

He slams his fist against the force field. It makes contact with a dull thud and a jolt of pain that shoots out of his hand and into his arm. She doesn’t even flinch.

"Grife! Cut it out! We both know this is just another one of your acts. You’ve never given a nass about me unless it was for your own benefit.”

"You wound me,” she says, while actually sprocking pouting down at him like an insolent toddler. “Is it so impossible that I've changed, been reformed by the exquisite medical staff on this planetoid? Do you truly believe me incapable of that?"

“Yes! You've had two decades to learn to care and you told me you did everything in your power to achieve that before trying to kill me, why the nass would this be it? What could a pack of prison psychiatrists possibly have to say that you haven’t heard before?”

“Things and people change, Querl, you of all people should know that. You haven’t always been like this, have you?” For a second he hesitates, which is all his mind needs to catch up with him. The sudden burst of anger drains out of him like air through a compromised hull and he inches back from the force field, crossing his arms again once he comes to a stop. Had he not struggled for years himself, dealing with his feelings and trauma and the anomaly and implants and all that came with it? He’d become better with time, why couldn’t she?

“I know I have not been the best mommy to you, but I can assure you that being coupled with a human will only lead to suffering. I have had short-lived companions before, most of them did not see any longtime benefits from our relationship.” As she speaks her shoulders start to slump and she turns away from him, letting her hair obscure her face. Despite her stature she looks small. Small and lonely.

He hesitates before speaking. “I thought you said you couldn’t feel love.”

“I can’t, but they did. And it did them no favours.” She sighs heavily. “But I suppose all children need to make their own mistakes, even if they’re foolish ones.”

Querl inches backwards. This new side of her unnerves him, but as much as he rakes his mind for an explanation — desperately tries to look to her voice or demeanour for any sign of one — he comes up empty-handed. Where she’d been forward and mocking and saccharine before she’s now demure and small, a lonely woman in a restrictive prison cell. He doesn’t know if that’s the real her. If there’s any version of her that is truly real.

“I need to leave,” he mumbles.

“Thank you for visiting, sweetheart, I do get so lonely down here.” She blinks, her eyes still devoid of something. Querl retreats out the door, sighing in relief as the lock engages behind him.

------------------------------

Her words cling to him as he leaves, echoing through most of his thought tracks as he desperately tries to make sense of them. Any thought of speaking to the warden has been left behind for another day. He needs to leave. Needs to get home.

Even as he settles into a seat in the Takron Galtos shuttle, huddled in a too large coat with the hood pulled up to cover most of his face, lest he be recognised, he can’t get them out of his head. It’s not like he didn’t know. He’d always known, it just hadn’t mattered at first and then things had progressed so quickly and it had never come up. And it had been so easy not to think about it, to push any thought of age and life away, to just look at the next experiment or the next life or death situation or the next sweet moment of kisses stolen away between missions and work. Of Lyle’s warm hands against his face and of feeling like he finally belonged somewhere, too drunk on life to realise that it couldn’t last forever.

He used to think he’d die long before his ageing became an issue. His caretakers would tell him that people hated his family for what they’d done, that the galaxy was full of people who longed for the blood of a dead Brainiac on their hands, if only for a small piece of vengeance. He’d long ago accepted that as his end, that someone would eventually catch up to him. Even as he ventured out into the world and discovered its indifference he still held on to that belief. In recent years — after being lost and losing so much — he’d started to believe that he would in all likelihood die during a mission. The idea that he might die of old age had seemed preposterous.

Querl sighs and stares out the darkened window at the endless expanse of stars outside the shuttle. Perhaps she, despite her behaviour and everything she’s done, is right. Perhaps it is selfish to expect a human to live with someone so different, who can offer so little in return for a lifetime of commitment. His own experience with Coluan ageing is theoretical at best; he doesn’t know how his mental development will compare to a human, but he won’t grow old alongside them, that much is clear. Perhaps they will get another ten years together, maybe twenty. But eventually they’ll grow old, and he simply won’t. At least not for many centuries. Those who are simply his friends can presumably handle it well enough, distance themselves as needed and not be too affected by his perceived immaturity. But it would be irresponsible to put that burden on his partner. He knows it would. Querl knows he shouldn’t make his life difficult and what is making him live according to the standards of an entirely alien species, if not difficult?

The trip home feels endless, ships crawling across the stars as they slowly bring him closer to Earth. To home. He switches from the Takron Galtos shuttle to an uncomfortably crowded express ship to the inner Centaurus Arm, then to a local shuttle to Earth. It’s beyond late when he finally arrives on Legion World, and his body aches with exhaustion. But all through the journey his conversation with his mother reverberates through his mind, and he makes a decision.

------------------------------

Querl flings his coat onto the lone armchair in the living area of his quarters. It doesn’t add noticeably to the already messy state of the room, every flat surface littered with papers and holopads and mechanical parts and more or less abandoned projects he neither can nor wants to think about at that moment. He’ll deal with it later. Tomorrow. He has to do this while he’s still determined, before he can convince himself to keep living selfishly.

The door to the sleeping quarters slides open with a low hiss, revealing a considerably cleaner and sparsely lit room. Lyle is sitting cross-legged on his bed, dressed in a loose black bathroom Querl doesn’t remember owning with his still wet hair brushed back from his forehead. An abandoned holopad lies next to him on the bed, but he’s looking at Querl, smiling sweetly as his dark eyes glitter fondly. There’s a warm beauty to him that it took Querl far too long to notice, but it feels like it’s all he’s seen these last few months. The idea of losing it again makes him want to abandon every thought of doing what’s right, to instead lie down next to him on the bed and dive right back into being selfish and self-fulfilled. But Lyle deserves better.

“You’re back. How did it go?” Despite Lyle’s smile there’s a wrinkle of worry between his eyebrows and a tightness in his eyes. Querl swallows through a suddenly too dry throat, trying to keep his own face and voice from betraying him.

“She didn’t want anything of importance. I should have expected as much.” Lyle eyes him warily and Querl can only hope his suspicion stems from his, and Ayla and Gates’, general disapproval of the trip.

“Figures,” he eventually says, pushing his holopad fully out of the way and stretching out his arms over his head. “And could have told you as much. But I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious, at least.” Lyle pushes himself off the bed and closes the gap between them in one swift movement, standing so close that Querl imagines he can feel the heat radiating off of him. He cups Querl’s cheek with one hand, gently rubbing a calloused thumb over his cheekbone. It’s warm and intoxicating and Querl tilts his head, lets himself indulge in the touch just one last time before grabbing Lyle’s hand and pulling it away. He takes a step back, remembering the door only as his back hits it.

Lyle blinks.

“Querl?” he asks, the worry on his face deepening. Querl steels himself and tries to concentrate on the thoughts that have been swirling in his mind since his conversation with his mother. He pushes away any thought of Lyle’s warmth, and of the guilt his expression makes him feel.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea for us to keep doing this,” he says, voice strained.

“I- what? What this?” Lyle says.

“This, well, us.” Querl points between them, his hand numb. “It might be better for both of us if we just… if we just don’t.”

“How is that better?” Lyle steps back, face hardening. A treacherous part of Querl whispers that there’s still time to take it back, that he can lie his way out of this. He knows he shouldn’t.

“I don’t think our species’ ageing processes are compatible. Your lifespan will only last about an eighth to a fourth of mine and-”

“So, you want to break up with me, right now, because I’ll die in a hundred years or so and that’ll make you sad?” Lyle sounds, for lack of a better description, unimpressed. There’s not much worry left in his expression now.

“It’s not that,” Querl says, defensively holding up his hands in front of himself. “Being with me won’t be like being with another human. I’m not going to age alongside you and go through regular human life events with you.”

“Merde. Yeah, thanks, I know.” Lyle sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “You can be so dense, do you know that?”

“I’m no-”

"Yes, yes you are. Do you think dating for half a year means we have to spend our entire lives together now?” Lyle doesn’t wait for him to answer. “And I sprocking know. It’s not some big dark secret you’ve been keeping from me, it’s literally Xenobiology 101.”

“Ah.”

“Ah indeed.” Lyle rolls his eyes. “Where did you get this nass from?”

What just minutes before had seemed like logical reasoning lies irreparably shattered in Querl’s mind, a mess of thoughts and ideas that for some reason seemed so orderly before. But right here, right now, in the soft light of his room and with an angry Lyle standing right in front of him, they only seem utterly thoughtless.

“Querl?” Lyle says, slightly louder and with a deep note of irritation.

“My mother…” Querl admits, glancing down and away from Lyle, unable to keep looking at him as the reality of the situation catches up to him. The tips of his ears burn and he swallows dryly as a tense silence stretches out between them.

“Cool,” Lyle eventually says, voice strung tight. “And why have you been taking relationship advice from your mother who, need I remind you, tried to murder you for fun?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“It sure sounded like that!”

“Well, it wasn’t. Her actions don’t discredit everything she says, particularly not if she’s simply stating an objective fact.”

Lyle sighs.

“Look at me,” he says, voice sharp. Even though his stomach churns with anticipation of what he’ll face, Querl obliges. “Thanks,“ Lyle continues. ”You’ve got to stop acting like you know better than everyone else. People make their own decisions for their own reasons, you can’t make them for them and act like that’s for the greater good. And you especially can’t act like that because your unstable mum got into your head about something.”

“The thought had occurred to me before she mentioned it.”

“But you didn’t act on it before she said something. And, you know, you could just have brought it up like a normal person. It wouldn’t have been so hard to ask if I’d thought about it too, but instead you decided to be some kind of noble hero and try to break up with me for my own good.” If there’s one thing Querl doesn’t know it’s people. People are annoying and fraught with unstable emotions that threaten to spill over at any moment, there are few if any rules that govern their behaviour. Or at least so it seems, save for moments like this, when Lyle explains them with such ease that they might as well be second degree equations. It’s one of his many gifts, and perhaps the one that truly sets them apart. Querl resents it, at times. Times like these.

“Well?” Another flare of irritation.

“I suppose you’re correct…” Querl bites his lip. He didn’t do anything wrong. Except he did. But saying those two words still feels like admitting undeserved defeat. “I’m sorry.” He hates apologising. He’s not supposed to be wrong.

“Thanks, love the sincerity. Are you even taking this seriously?” He’s seen Lyle angry and irritated before, he’s even yelled at him at times. But this feels different, like there’s something unspoken hanging in the air between them, an electric current that makes his skin prickle.

“I am.”

“Uhu, and you still want to break up with me?” Lyle says, voice so calm and steady despite the edge in his words, sharp like a razor ready to cut.

“I didn’t want to break up with you in the first place.” Did he? No, he didn’t, he just had to, he only wanted what was best for them both. For Lyle.

“Could have fooled me. Actually, you know what, we’re done here. Be alone, if that’s what you want.” Just as quickly as he’d approached Querl he turns around, grabs his holopad and pushes back past him out of the room. For a moment their eyes meet and linger, Lyle’s still narrowed and glinting with suppressed anger. Querl isn’t sure what his own face says in return. Then the door slides shut behind him, and Querl is left alone.

#brainiac 5 #querl dox #losh #dc comics #lyle norg #invisible kid #querllyle #my writing #not 100% happy with it but I'm done #done enough #will edit more before ao3 tho

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radioactive-earthshine · 2 months

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Earthgov Querl/Lyle separation dialog rattling in my head.

"I would have given you all the days of my life, Querl. Every one would have been yours."

"The following centuries endured alone without you would have been worth those days, Lyle."

#querl dox #lyle norg #brainylyle #querllyle #lylequerl #querl/lyle #lyle/querl #jfc this ship name #losh

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spandexinspace · 4 months

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Lyle being so many first for Querl. Not even overtly romantically speaking, but in so many small ways, ways Querl would both have been denied and denied himself. Casually running his fingers through his hair, sharing a bed, quietly whispering that he missed him as if his presence actually meant something to someone else.

#Actually wanting to show affection because he wants to make Lyle feel a fraction of what he feels #And Lyle wants to firebomb ColuGov #dc comics #losh #Querllyle

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spandexinspace · 9 months

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Lyle jolts awake. He looks around, his heart racing, but the room around him is plunged in darkness and silent, save for the faint hum of the life support systems and Querl’s breathing next to him. He rubs at his eyes and steadies his breathing. Whatever woke him up appears to be long gone. Or, he thinks as he slips down from the bed onto the cold metal floor, maybe it never was at all. It wouldn’t be the first or even tenth time he’s done that.

He slinks out of the bedroom area of their quarters, making sure to close the door behind him as he enters the strangely under-dimensioned living room area. It’s smaller than that of the other living quarters and seems to have been furnished by someone who only has a vague idea of what a living room is supposed to be, which is to say, there’s one chaise longue in there, shoved up against a wall like an unwelcome gift from a far off relative. At moments like this that’s a blessing, because in the pitch dark of the room it’s hard enough to make out the walls, much less any individual piece of furniture. He holds his breath and listens. Nothing. Not a single strange sound.

This is stupid. Or, no, it’s paranoid. Maybe both. Stupid and paranoid and the product of years of conditioning he didn’t even understand the gravity of at the time. Random night drills, staying awake for days at a time, every sense of security being stripped away from them all until they were too affected to even sleep through the night properly. They’d all been going through it then, and it had seemed so normal. He sighs, a heavy breath rolling out of his chest like a lead weight.

The yellow, automatic light in the bathroom stings his eyes even at the dimmed night setting. He squints and tries to avoid looking directly at it, feeling somehow even dumber as he takes in the predictable emptiness. It’s just a white-tiled stretch of nothingness occasionally dotted by various toiletries and towels. Mostly his, at this point, since Querl apparently fell into the “why do I need more than two products” hole at an early point in his life. He’d felt a bit weird about it when they’d first started sharing a living space, like he was imposing what he’d never before thought of as a particularly high maintenance lifestyle on a space that wasn’t really his, and overstepping what was at the time a not totally solidified arrangement. He’d eventually asked Querl about it and found out that he’d barely thought about it at all, that he simply considered it their space from the start. Unlike the lab, Lyle had asked, earning an eye-roll in lieu of any real response.

Lyle convinces himself to skip the lab this time. The newly upgraded security system should do a much better job than he ever could and it feels like a break-in in the lab, if nothing else, would be enough to raise Querl from the near-death state he seems to enter whenever he’s asleep.

He makes his way back to bed, walking by memory rather than whatever little night vision he’d had before he’d entered the bathroom. The bedroom is still calm and quiet. He lies down carefully and pushes away a warm, errant arm from his side of the bed before settling down properly. Querl shifts next to him, a shallow sigh interrupting his otherwise calm and steady breathing. He’s probably still splayed out in a position that makes Lyle’s back ache by mere thought alone, but he’s at least doing it on his side of the bed. And he can’t truly fault Querl for sleeping well when he knows what the alternative looks like. They’ve had bad nights before, often after equally bad days, and he’ll take a hundred nights of interrupted sleep over that. Sleep pulls at him as soon as he closes his eyes, stretching out and fading away any further thoughts into oblivion.

#lyle norg #invisible kid #querl dox #brainiac 5 #querllyle #my writing #losh #dc comics #wherein the role of querl is performed by a warm rock #kinda #idk no real point to this I'm just throwing together some ideas in prose

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spandexinspace · 5 months

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One fight leads to another, at least when you get your relationship advice from people who are cosmically incapable of feeling emotions.

#brainiac 5 #querl dox #lyle norg #invisible kid #legion of super heroes #losh #dc comics #querllyle #my writing #here it is once again

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spandexinspace · 10 months

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For all the things that never died

Short confession fic at the end of the world

_____________

It’s warm, the air heavy with poorly filtered moisture, beading on their skin and trickling down Lyle’s back in thin, cold streams. Around them the dark, ramshackle ship creaks forebodingly, its engine heaving and sighing like its cooling system is nothing but a wishful thought, like it’s drawing its final few breaths. The air smells caustic.

They’re pressed together in a feverouse embrace. Lyle’s fingers brush against the hair at the nape of Querl's neck, sticky and longer than it’s been in several years. He should remember when he stopped wearing it long, but he doesn’t. Like so many things these days it’s slipping his mind - like the colour of Jacque’s parents’ apartment, like his mother’s voice, like the scent of the fields outside of his hometown - all fading into a grey sludge somewhere deep in his memories, losing definition and vividity every time he tries to recall them.

He looks up, into Querl’s acidic green eyes. His eyebrows are knitted together and there’s an unusually soft quality to his face, even beneath the harsh emergency lights, that is almost strange enough to make Lyle look past the dark, ashy circles under his eyes and the way he feels so tense next to him. Despite everything he’s beautiful. He’s always been so sprocking beautiful, radiant even at the end of the world, covered in grime and sweat.

Lyle puts one hand on his cheek, thumb resting behind his jaw and his other fingers splayed forward, the final finger resting just beneath one tired eye. The soft, emerald skin burns beneath his hand. The rational part of his brain, the part that has spent years telling him to not do this very thing because it is utterly stupid, tries one final time to make him stop. Tries to convince him that doing what he’s about to do will at best make things awkward and at worst create a huge rift in their already struggling team. But he remembers the way Querl’s lips felt against his cheek and how his hand felt in his own, and the thought of not getting to feel that again, anymore, makes him ache like an open wound.

Slowly he leans forward, angling his head and closing his eyes. He presses his lips to Querl’s and finally kisses him. Querl responds much like an understudy brought out onto the stage on their first day, stiff and awkward, a little delayed. But Lyle’s heart is beating so fast in his chest, pounding in his ears. He’s yearned for this moment, dreamt about it in that hopeless way one does when something seems both out of reach and just a little wrong, tantalising not only in itself but also in its unattainability. Time stands still as the heat seers against his lips, more so than the heavy air around him and even their bodies pressed together, the rest of the world fading away for that blissful moment. Then he pulls away, and opens his eyes to be met by a wide-eyed stare. And it hits him that all the signals he thinks he’s seen might just have been ghost lights.

Looking down he steps back, not letting go of Querl’s face just yet, trying to savour that final moment of intimacy, of imagined love, for as long as he can.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to overstep. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Everyone else is gone. It’s just them, left behind to carry the memories of an entire universe for as long as they can. So many lives unjustly lost, yet he’s not fighting for them, trying to get them back or preserving them. Nothing that actually matters. He’s just trying to ruin one of the few friendships he still has left.

“Don’t apologise.” Querl spits out, voice slightly louder and higher than he probably, hopefully, intended. Lyle’s chest burns. He takes another few steps back, hands slipping from Querl’s face and neck as reality comes crashing back down around him. Before even falling out of view his hands fade away into nothingness, his mind wrapping his powers around him like it’ll protect him from the fallout of his actions. Nass, he’s stupid. He of all people should know better, it’s not like he hasn’t spent the last few years not acting on these dumb impulses. Like he hasn’t been disappointed before. He wraps his arms around himself.

A hand reaches out and awkwardly grabs for his arm, bumping against it at first before managing to just barely catch the fabric of his suit.

“Norg, what are you doing?” Lyle looks up. Despite his furrowed brows there’s yet softness to Querl’s face, his head slightly tilted. There's also an edge to his voice, but it’s the much more familiar edge of poorly hidden confusion.

“I don’t… Nass. I just misinterpreted things.” Lyle inhales, then exhales slowly, forcing his body back into visibility, even for as much as his mind wants to remain hidden. “I thought we had something going on and I kinda just acted on it even though I knew it was stupid and risky. I really am sorry.”

There’s a moment of silence that makes him want to yell, or perhaps fall back into the safety of not being visible. Perhaps he could just fade into nothingness for the rest of time, safe from ever acting on his worst ideas again. Knowing that Querl doesn’t have to be silent, if anything his mouth usually struggles to keep up with his brain, just makes the wait worse.

“I don’t mind,” Querl says. “And you still don’t need to apologise.” Lyle blinks.

“You don’t?”

“No. I was… surprised. But it’s fine. Enjoyable. I wouldn’t mind repeating it.” Once the initial shock has washed over him Lyle can’t help but smile a little, watching as the other tries desperately to find the right words, for once actually stunned into near-silence. Who would have thought it’d take so little.

“I’d like that,” Lyle says, letting go of a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “I just thought, you know, from your initial response…”

“I’ve been awake for nearly 60 hours, you’ll have to excuse some slight irregularities in my behaviour.” That sounds more like him, as does the accompanying smirk. “Besides, I did kiss you first.”

“That you did.” Debatably, but Lyle isn’t about to argue the point. “Third times the charm?” he asks instead. He barely has time to finish the sentence before he’s pulled back into an embrace, his own hands settling at the small of Querl’s back like they’ve done this a thousand times before. Sticky warmth washes over him, maybe even more intense than before, but as they close the remaining distance between them, their lips brushing together once more, he finds his mind occupied with other matters. His lips feel soft, void of the tension before, eagerly if clumsily kissing back. It’s dizzying.

“I can’t believe it took us this long to realise,” he whispers, slightly out of breath, once they part, burying his face in the nape of Querl’s neck. He smells like sweat and metallic welding fumes. “Entire sprocking world doesn’t usually have to end for people to come to terms with themselves.”

“No, I suppose not,” Querl murmurs, his arms tightening around Lyle. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you since we got back. I think… I didn’t want you to say no, so I refrained from doing so.”

“Yeah, I thought you didn’t like guys. Because, well, I’ve seen the kind of girls you like. Not much in common there,” Lyle says with a short, humourless laugh, more like an exhale than actual laughter. He’s not about to admit quite how deep that comparison had gone, how many times he’d looked at that Daxamite and tried to somehow imagine any of her qualities reflected in himself. He hadn’t even been that invested at that point, often more put off by his behaviour than attracted to him, but it had nonetheless bothered him.

“It’s complicated, but, well, I do. And I like you in particular.”

“I like you in particular too.”

The ship’s engine makes a sickening, crunching noise, shattering whatever illusion of abnormal normality Lyle had managed to lure himself into. But Querl doesn’t move, so he leans into that embrace a little longer, clings to at least this new found piece of comfort, hoping he’ll at least get to keep that.

#dc comics #losh #querl dox #lyle norg #brainiac 5 #invisible kid #querllyle #my writing

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