#querllyle

[missveryvery]

Thing I did like last month and keep forgetting about.

Redraw of this:

I think this is the most physical affection we ever see him give.

[radioactive-earthshine]

Hello! Can you talk about the relationship between Querl and Lyle. I haven’t read the legion series yet but I saw a comic panel of Querl kissing Lyle on the cheek! WHAT IS GOING ON! :)

:) :) :) Querl thought bae was gonna die and was glad he din't

The Legion #27

Please meet the Post-Zero Hour Legion of Super-Heroes that stars a huge cast, including canonly gay (confirmed by writers) Lyle Norg and canonly queer Querl Dox.

Their first meetings began in 1994 where they at first had a bit of a rivalry (but both had deep respect for the other, it was never hostile) going on because they are both geniuses with some overlap in interests. Querl is Brainiac 5 with difficulty expressing his emotions and Lyle is a genius biochemist who is deeply repressed and also has difficulty showing his real self.

It took time but in the final issues of their run they find close "friendship" with each other that the writers (Abnett and Lanning) intended to be romantic but were told 'no' because it was the early 2000s.

Regardless, they got away with showing what they did.

The Legion #26

If you have the spoons I highly recommend reading the PZH run, it is long, over 200 issues including the closing series, but it is so worth it.

[spandexinspace]

I heard we were posting QuerlLyle fluff.

______________________

Lyle lets his fingers trail down the back of Querl’s neck, lightly brushing against his skin as they travel down the curve of his spine. With the way their bodies are entwined—pressed together, one set of hands clasped between them—it’s impossible to not feel the way it makes him shudder

"Stop that," Querl says, voice devoid of any real edge and tinged with stifled laughter.

"What, this?" Lyle repeats the motion, this time letting his fingers travel up his spine, feeling the soft, uneven hairs against his fingers. Despite his squirming, Querl can't help but laugh. It’s soft and quiet, hanging in the air between them like mist on an early summer morning. It's everything.

As if seeking sanctuary Querl presses his face into Lyle's neck, allowing himself to flee scant centimetres away from the touch of his fingers. "Exactly that." His breath feels warm against Lyle's prickling skin.

"It's not my fault you're so ticklish." Turning his head just enough to reach, Lyle presses a quick kiss to the top of his head. His nostrils fill with the faint scent of artificial pine. There'd been times, times before all this, when he'd wondered what Querl smelled like, if someone like him would waste time on frivolous things like cologne and aftershave. He did, sometimes, but he mostly smelled of that sharp pine, the product of a shampoo Lyle had long since given up on convincing him not to use. Sometimes it surprised him how familiar it had become. How safe.

"Yet you're using it against me." Querl shifts, momentarily squeezing down with a hand that’s been resting on Lyle's hip for leverage. They're so closely pressed together, a mess of limbs and skin, that it's almost hard to tell where either of them ends and the other begins, legs coiled together like vines and hands entwined as branches of ancient trees. He can feel Querl's chest moving with every breath, can almost convince himself he can feel his heart beating in pace with his own. It's a foolish thought, but he’s never been one to discredit those. So he lets it remain, for a moment feeling more like one than two.

Querl presses a kiss to his neck, letting his lips linger as if he has no reason not to. In response Lyle weaves his free hand in his hair, earning an approving hum that vibrates through his neck and makes his face blossom with heat. No matter how often they do this, how many late nights in the lab or even later returns from missions end with them wrapped up in each other like this, not moving apart even as the night slips into early morning, he'll never grow tired of it. It's in these tender moments he feels at peace, when it's too late and too safe to have to care about anything but soft laughter and warm skin against his own. When they don't have to be two people marooned by circumstances out of their control. 

"I adore you," he whispers. Adores him, adores his crooked little smile when he's right about something, his off-guard laughter when he's too distracted to remember to be sarcastic, the warmth of lying next to him. Adores him in ways that make his stomach flutter and body feverish, drawn to him like waves to the shore.

"As you should." Shifting again, Querl turns his head, pinning Lyle's hand and only narrowly avoiding bumping their noses together. His half-lidded eyes and tender smile only highlight how devastatingly, stunningly flushed he is. How simple it is for one little thing to drive Lyle's mind into overdrive.

It's Querl who closes the gap between them, capturing Lyle's lips and kissing him ever so gently. Though it’s like many kisses they've shared before, slow and deliberate and more chaste than one would imagine, Lyle would give anything to share them so many times more. When they break apart, after only a quick eternity, Lyle can't help but sigh. It sounds longing, even to his ears. Querl giggles again, his eyes crinkling and his nose scrunching up in a way that just makes Lyle want to keep kissing him. But before he can do so Querl squeezes his hand, the one that’s been entangled between them, and brings it up to his chest. Something flashes across Querl’s face and he tilts his head down, obscuring his face.

For a while they lie like that, the only sound between them their light, nearly in-sync breathing. “Few circumstances have made me feel like I do with you,” Querl eventually says, squeezing Lyle’s hand as if to emphasise his words. His voice still sounds so soft, even though it's tinged by the nameless thing that seems to press down on him whenever he speaks of his feelings, a shapeless mass Lyle is sure has borne far too many names and faces through the years. Using the hand at the back of Querl’s head he softly presses him closer, leaning into the movement. Querl follows, letting himself be pulled nearer and tighter until it almost feels constricting. The hand on Lyle’s hip slips to his back and presses firmly into it, bringing their hips together. He can feel Querl’s lean muscles against him, the hard edges and smooth skin of his body, the light tinge of pine and soap, the way his chest moves in time with his breathing. In and out, a steady rhythm.

“I’m glad,” Lyle hums, not unconvinced Querl can feel his words as much as hear them. It doesn’t matter if he can’t quite say what he wants to say, if words get stuck in his throat and never quite leave it. If he’s happy, if he’s pressing himself close to Lyle after long days and sometimes laughs his unguarded, adorable laugh, then that says more than any words ever really could. And maybe one day the words will follow too. 

“As am I.”

[lemonyinks]

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.

[accidental-hero]

For the ask thing: QuerlLyle 🤭

when or if I started shipping it: I've always thought Brainy and Lyle were cute, whether that was as rivals, friends or boyfriends, the infamous cheek kiss panel definitely helped though.

my thoughts: I have so many thoughts about that and will likely not be able to fully verbalize them here lol. I find their dynamic to be so interesting. They're both so similar yet so different, narrative foils in so many ways. I love the development that goes on with their relationship over time.

What makes me happy about them: They're both snarky, and too smart for their own good. Even when they're together as a couple they'd likely still bicker over notes and experiments. Gotta keep a friendly competition going.

What makes me sad about them: That they never got to explore a romantic relationship. Also the fact that Lyle would very likely die before Querl. :(

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: Authors not having a good grasp on their "voices." Nothing takes me out of it faster than reading something that's extremely out of character for either or both of them.

Things I look for in fanfic: Honestly, it's kinda slim pickings when it comes to them so if it seems interesting, I'll take what I can get.

My kinks: Gotta be real, idk if I have any for them. If this counts, then I do like when they're being intimate and they make a point to like, touch and explore the other's bodies.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: If they've got good chemistry with another character, I'm not really picky. Querl has a plethora of love interests (both canon and not) to choose from. I do like Lyle/Condo as well, but like I said, if there was another character that Lyle had good chemistry with I'd at least entertain the idea.

My happily ever after for them: That they get to get married and grow old together. Retired but still occasionally blowing up their house lab as a date night. 😔

[allenasleepsstuff]

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

Nice to meet ya

[thestormfall]

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..."

[radioactive-earthshine]

Brainy/Lyle for the ship ask game?

Ship It!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What made you ship it? They literally being gay on page in front of my salad.

What are your favorite things about the ship? I love their development together going from rivals to friends to lovers that have a deep understanding and respect for each other. I also love a lot of subtext for their relationship and the implications of Lyle being still under control of EarthGov being a foil. Lyle likes to think he has total control over his life but he rarely does and I think Querl is one of the few people that can make him realize that. They both so fervently want a happy ending but so far the science experiment is giving them contrary data...

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? I'm not sure if I have one that is unpopular really. I do like a good tragedy so I really do think that if they were able to be together in canon as intended there would be consequences. But this is not really an unpopular opinion but a lot of people just loathe a ship that might not be so happy all the time and might have factors outside of them preventing them from being together. I think there might be a point in time where they both think that maybe, it is best if they don't see each other - because Colu maybe recalls Querl due to dropping out of the UP and EarthGov recalls Lyle because "did you really think you could LEAVE?" and that's the plot of one of my fics on my spreadsheet.

[spandexinspace]

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.”

[spandexinspace]

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Legion of Super-Heroes (Comics), Legion of Super Heroes - All Media Types, DCU (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Querl Dox/Lyle Norg Characters: Querl Dox, Lyle Norg, Jazmin Cullen Additional Tags: Post-Zero Hour, Very Mild Gore, for one paragraph, Set in some kind of nebulous space after The Legion #14, Pre-Relationship Summary:

Querl is hurt after the whole kerfuffle with Robotica, Lyle thinks he can fix things and ends up fixing something at least.

[spandexinspace]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Legion of Super-Heroes (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Querl Dox/Lyle Norg Characters: Lyle Norg, Querl Dox Additional Tags: Post-Zero Hour, near enough Summary:

Querl has thoughts and ogles an attractive man

[radioactive-earthshine]

Me having Querl/Lyle thoughts rn

[radioactive-earthshine]

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."

[spandexinspace]

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.

[radioactive-earthshine]

@gayalaxy

Re: ship names for Querl/Lyle

This made me guffaw so thus it is perfect and it suits them tbh.

[spandexinspace]

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.