Queers on TV give us a lesson in life

The first time I saw someone receive a rimjob, I thought, ​“Won’t that taste like shit?” And you know what, I sometimes still think that now.

The other night, I was shagging a guy I went on a date with two years ago. We ended up seeing each other on Grindr, exchanged a few messages and came to the conclusion that we were both pissed and horny.

He was giving me head and before I very nearly came, I told him to get on top. What I meant was sit on my knob, but what he did was sit on my face. He was clean, so it was alright, but a bit of bloody notice would’ve been nice. When a bloke’s sat on your face, it’s quite hard not to think about the possibility of an accidental fart, or a tiny bit of poo that they might have missed when wet-wiping in the bathroom pre-shag. All that while sticking your tongue up a hole, pretending to enjoy every minute of it. Arseholes taste a bit like a 1p coin, don’t they?

The reason I’m telling you all this is earlier this week, I read a report by GLAAD (the Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation) which found that LGBTQ+ representation in TV shows was set to decline by almost a third due to show cancellations in the US. It made me think of how important seeing our lot on the box was when I was growing up. How vital it is for young queer people still.

Take the first rimjob I ever saw. It was in the first episode of Russell T Davies’s legendary Queer as Folk, during a scene that shocked the socks off viewers when it first aired in 1999. I must’ve been around 12 when I caught a late night rerun on Channel 4. And despite my concerns about shit, it was a fucking sexy scene. Stuart slowly edging closer to Nathan’s bum with his tongue. The close-ups of sweaty skin. The ecstatic look on Nathan’s face. The filthy look on Stuart’s face.

I wondered what a bum would taste like, and how it would feel to have a tongue up it. Not to mention, what it would be like to live on Canal Street like Stuart, in a massive loft conversion flat, driving around in a Jeep in my 30s. In fact, I still wonder what it would be like to live on Canal Street in a massive loft conversion flat, driving around in a Jeep in my 30s.

Watching that scene was the moment I knew I was an out and out bender. I was so turned on I couldn’t think about anything else. And, importantly, it was the first time I properly accepted my own sexuality: queer as fuck.

Seeing gay people on the telly was a lesson in life. No, really. It showed me, as a baby gay, that being queer didn’t have to be scary, even if I was shitting myself at age 12, convinced my mum could read my mind and knew I was thinking about cock non-stop.

It showed me that being gay was actually something to look forward to as I got older. Christian Clarke was sexy, mouthy and proud in Eastenders, Will was as confused as most of us in Will & Grace. Later, It’s a Sin showed us the fearlessness of those who fought against AIDS stigma in the ​’80s and ​’90s.

And, of course, Queer as Folk showed us that we could – and should – have a lot of sex, dance in clubs, take pills, dress well and enjoy rimjobs. Many, many rimjobs.

So, here’s hoping for more of us on the box. I was beginning to wonder if TV had become a little less fab recently.