Brainiac the 5th

I hesitate to say you’ll have little problem convincing him to do so. *blush*

But it definitely warrants further investigation…later.

For now?

“Metron, yes,” he agrees to Lyle’s shy suggestion of sleep, scooting in just a few inches closer. He can feel the other boy’s body heat this way, can hear the way his breath draws in and out, steady and alive. Brainiac would have never thought such an insignificant thing could bring such comfort, that the presence of another could produce such high levels of dopamine. Then again, he’d really never had any exposure to it, never had an opportunity to find out.

“I feel as though I could sleep for a week.”

It takes him a long moment to fully close his eyes, to get over the somewhat strange sensation of Lyle being in such close proximity. In all his life Brainiac has never fallen asleep so near another, doesn’t exactly know how to go about it. What if he rolls over in his slumber and strikes Lyle unintentionally? What if he accidentally smothers him? Still, surely the other Legionnaire would voice his concerns if he had any; he seems perfectly content (despite looking a little embarrassed) with Querl still gripping his arm like some kind of stuffed toy.

Taking one last deep breath, Querl exhales and imagines his concerns going out with it, allowing his body to grow heavy. Utterly peaceful. And in the briefest moment before sleep sucks him under, Brainiac 5 can’t help but think that if this is what he’s been missing out on than perhaps he should apologize to Apparition for how often he’d made fun of her and Ultra Boy in the past.

Because Lyle Norg is utterly addicting.

There were very few things that Indigo would legitimately say that she was scared of. She had been a soldier for Colu, at the forefront of their armies, her nightmares still showed her hands caked with the bodily fluids of who knew how many species. 

Actually, she did know. 

that was scary. 

The only thing that was scarier was when she would try to think of what some of her predecessors would think of her. Would they say she was only a duplicitous monster? The good one might. The rest would consider her a true scion of Brainiac. 

It is the way she moves.

To the untrained, averagely intelligent eye, she appears to be little more than a normal humanoid. However, to Brainiac 5, she is immediately more. No species in the known galaxy has that color skintone, and while aesthetic skin modification could explain it, Querl does not believe that to be the case. While she is clearly Coluan, she moves like one who is not quite comfortable in their own body, as though something is just slightly off-kilter, as though each touch is new or unfamilar.

He remembers feeling similarly when he was returned from the anomaly; it had been like being remolded and forced to relearn how to move and react to the world around him.

She turns a sharp corner towards the bio-domes and Querl follows after her, picking up his pace to catch up more quickly so that they will essentially be alone. Subterfuge is Lyle’s stock and trade, so Querl decides to dispense with the formalities and deal with the situation in what he hopes turns out to be a logical manner.

“Did they send you?” he calls to her down the hallway, fists clenching at his sides to hide his rising nerves. “I knew they were furious after Computo, but I didn’t think they’d be idiotic enough to send someone after me.”

Swallowing, he levels her back with a steady gaze. “Is it not enough to ostracize me from the homeworld? Are you here to charge me with some crime? Dispatch me, somehow?”

Too loud. Too passionate. Too much for something so new. He should know better. The Terran blinks rapidly, trying so very hard to not let his gaze drop in sheepishness, but eventually, he loses the fight, dropping his head against the pillowing mattress under them and scowling down at it. Away from those green eyes. His ears feel hot. Could Brainy feel it? His hand is still lingering there, where he touched, barely brushing Lyle’s hair. There’s a dry patch in his throat that he clears awkwardly. “What would they know, anyways?” An outright pout is palpable in his tone. “Not about you.” He curls up his shoulders defensively. Mutters. “Not about me.” How could anyone who protested understand, anyways? This was once in a lifetime! A once in a million chance. Brainiac 5 wanted him. Him! He was the exact opposite of Brainy’s consistent type. Statistically it made no sense. He wasn’t female. He wasn’t blond or strong, with lovely hips or delicate, inviting features. But despite all of that, despite all the data convincing with quite positivity this day would never come, here he was; Lyle Norg, tangled in sheets with his best friend. His heart racing with anxious disbelief. An anomaly. A brilliant, beautiful, heart-breaking anomaly. Couldn’t they see? Sprock anyone who couldn’t.

Legion World is full of teenagers, and that being the case Brainiac has come to expect a goodly bit of youthful fervor from time to time. Lyle Norg is no exception. In spite of the fact that he’s a scientist and supposedly more logically inclined, the Terran has always seemed to lead with his emotions. Querl has been secretly jealous of that; any time he’s allowed himself to become affected it has nearly always backfired, while Lyle, on the other hand, follows his instincts to success in 94.3% of all the cases Brainiac has studied. 

He keeps files about the things he’s interested in.

So, that being said, it stands to reason that Lyle directing his (not insubstantial) effort towards Querl could potentially turn out well. It was quite probable, even in the face of Brainiac’s emotional immaturity. Lyle’s clearly thought it through numerous times if his words are anything to go by…

The other boy’s ears are slightly warm against Querl’s fingertips, and the feel of it makes the corners of his mouth turn up in a way that is unfamiliar. Affectionate. Sweet. Leaning in slightly to confirm the sensory input, Querl chuckles when he sees the slight blush staining Lyle’s half-hidden cheeks, reaching in with a trembling hand to trail the pad of his thumb from the corner of the earthling’s eye to the top of his jawline.

“Do not apologize,” Querl says, lowering his voice to match the mood as he awkwardly takes Lyle’s arm hostage in both of his own. “I’m not such a fool as to try and dissuade you from...caring for me.”

He is a twelfth level intelligence, afterall.

What a strange pair they make; the amiable, affectionate Terran and the socially awkward, abrasive Coluan. There isn’t a sentient alive who would have seen this coming including himself, and he has no doubt that there will be some raised eyebrows. Still, it feels strangely “right” to draw Lyle a little bit closer, angling in so that their foreheads brush together, so that their breath mingles. He nearly wishes they would have done this sooner, though perhaps it was necessary to get their strange rivalry out of their systems before romance could transpire.

It doesn’t really matter; Querl’s interest in time travel isn’t what it used to be, anyway.

"…Okay, yeah, I’ve received some before, but they were mostly when I was a part of Black Hole. I mean, we were a bunch of kids. Hormones were running high, right? I didn’t take them too seriously ‘cause I didn’t see why they would— I’m sure at least one or two were meant for Jacques instead of me.”