I'm supposed to be writing a paper about Wordsworth right now, so of course I've been thinking a lot about Brian and Justin. And I've made some decisions.
1. I have long wanted to read Lex/Justin. I have now realized that seperis is the obvious person to write this. So um... go to it, Jenn! It should be smolderingly hot!
2. I have thought a lot about poor blinded Justin. And all the really sad, tragic moments that have happened over the past few years that Gus will never know about 'cause he is an insensitive bastard. But can't you just picture it? Brian begs Justin not to have the surgery, and Justin agrees, but then later he's trying to paint something--frantically trying to fill his last days with color and light, and he just can't get it, and he's crying and upset and he's like, "Brian, I can't do it, I can't do this, I said I could, but I can't, I was wrong," and so on, and Brian is trying to comfort him, and wants so badly to be able to tell him to go ahead and try the surgery but just can't, because he's selfish like that.
Oh man, it makes me cry so much just thinking about it.
3. Also, I have been thinking about how post-Thanksgiving Brian will take his revenge on Justin's mother. I think the best way would be for him to orchestrate a big thing at some office party. He takes Justin along with him, as part of the orchestration, and right when Sanders is trying really hard to convince Brian that he wants to consult with him on his campaign for Congress or something, Justin can appear. And then Jennifer can appear. And Brian can glory in the awkwardness and then announce to Sanders that he won't help with his campaign 'cause it would be a conflict of interest. And we can all be like--Go Brian! You learned something from Stockwell!
4. I have also thought a lot about whore!Justin/Justin the Hustler. Justin isn't low class on the streets like Hunter. No way. He's top-notch. I think Brian finds him a few years later in New York, and there's this hard-edged classiness about him--he's become the perfect homosexual (in Brian's mind) because all he believes in is fucking and money and fucking, and he knows that's the only thing men believe in, and he's sassy and arrogant, and oh-so-fucking-hot. And Brian takes him back to a ritzy hotel, and fucks him, and thinks about a kid who used to draw pictures of a superhero.
Those are my thoughts for the moment. I shall now try to resume thinking about the stupid fucking Prelude and the boat and the mountain and the willow tree. I think it's boring, and Wordsworth had too much time on his hands. But that will not make a good paper. So...more thought is necessary.