When did you know you loved Brian?
I'm aware that somehow I've gotten the reputation as not loving Brian. Which may be why at a recent fangirl gathering, when the question of "when did you first realize you loved him?" came up, no one paid much attention to my silence at first.
"It wasn't until Forever Young," said one wanton bitch fan. "That was when I realized he really did love Justin."
"It was when he stood in the street staring after Justin as he drove away at the end of 102," said another.
"I really didn't know until the prom," yet another offered.
"107" was the answer of several fangirls. Or 108, when he said, "Justin, are you coming?"
Finally, everyone had answered but me. And as I opened my mouth, I'm sure most of them thought I'd be saying, "I don't love Brian" or that I'd make some kind of remark about Justin or perhaps, just change the subject entirely.
But I didn't do any of those things. "I loved him when Michael said, 'Unless you're Brian Kinney,'" I said.
Yes, it's true. I loved Brian, unreservedly and with my whole heart, the very first time I saw him, saw his face in that blue light. I sat up in my chair and frowned and wrinkled my brow and bit my lip and said, "What the fuck, that boy is pretty." And I wondered what my lesbianic little heart was doing thinking that.
And as he tugged his boring blowjob trick through the chain curtain into the backroom (this was before Babylon was remodeled, apparently), I loved his smug little smile. I loved the snarky way he said, "Ten minutes. Tops," when Michael asked how long he'd be. I loved the way he sauntered out, telling everyone he'd gotten bored. I loved the way he abandoned all his friends to go chase the shiny pretty boy under the streetlight.
I kept loving Brian through every season, through every lick and kiss, through his cruelty and his kindness, his tenderness and his roughness. I loved him for doing hard things for Justin, I loved him for cutting through the bullshit, I loved him for the crap he refrained from doing even when I wanted to smack him for the things he did that he really shouldn't have.
I loved him for taking a chance on love at Justin's prom, and taking a second one after the bombing of Babylon.
I loved him for hearing what Justin was saying when he told him the story of Razorback, and said he wished there were a real Rage.
I loved him when he fucked, and when he fucked up. I loved him when he hurt Justin, and when he hurt himself. I love him unconditionally and from the bottom of my heart, and I think he clawed his way out of the toxic wasteland of his family of origin to surround himself with a messy, intrusive, funny, loving created family -- and that makes him strong, stronger than most fucked up kids ever turn out to be.
He's smart and funny and beautiful. And he has those arms.