Ryan O’Connell: Why I Will Never Stop Writing Gay Sex for TV

“Why do I do this to myself?” is something I mutter every time I’m standing naked while a makeup artist paints over the zits on my butt. After my autobiographical Netflix TV show, I wrote and star in the movie. Spezial and now, Peacock’s reboot of Queer as Folk—two TV shows with plenty of sex—this happens more often than you’d think. What is it about gay sex that I am so addicted to? Why does it bother me to be naked in front a crowd of strangers. What is the point of a scene in which I am fake-penetrated and filmed by a model? These are the kind of questions that float through my brain while I’m filming a sex scene. And it’s not just the medium of television that’s being terrorized by my gay smut. My debut novel, Only by looking at Him, opens up with the line, “My boyfriend Gus has a beautiful penis.” And then proceeds to describe said beautiful penis in graphic detail.
Here’s how I can make sense of it: I write things that will act as a balm for a younger version of me. A scene I wrote for Season 2. SpecialMy boyfriend urinates on me while we are having intercourse. Can you write this sentence in TIMEI wrote that scene as a 17-year old me. He had lost his virginity, and in fact did it on my boyfriend. (Oh no. TIME tried to get me from the place. Mortified, I tried to Google “anal sex accident” but it was 2004—the era of Ask Jeeves—and Jeeves could not or WOULD NOT go there. I remember thinking that something was wrong with me, that perhaps this had to do with my cerebral palsy and I wasn’t able to have sex like the rest of my able-bodied peers. I had no books, TV or movies to read. This shame and fear made me feel ashamed. Partly because I was afraid of what the next time would bring, I stopped having sex for 10 years. It is not related to your physical capabilities, but such unfortunate events are quite common. But I wish I’d known that sooner. If I did, maybe I wouldn’t have spent 10 years being celibate and now, at the age of 35, feel like I’m constantly playing catch-up.

Ryan O’Connell plays Ryan Hayes in “Special” and Max Jenkins is Tanner.
Netflix
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Reprezentation is important. It’s groundbreaking. But especially with gay sex—an act that has either been heavily eroticized in TV and film or been removed entirely. You can watch it here. Please Call me by Your Name in 2017, I felt a sense of betrayal when the camera panned away to a tree as Armie Hammer and Timothée Chalamet’s characters finally consummate their relationship. It was cowardly—the ultimate copout. It was their queer wish that fueled the whole film. And now we’re not allowed to see that desire be acted on! But, oh, we can see Timothée have sex with a girl and a literal peach in the same movie? Homophobic. In a movie that’s supposed to be made for us, by a gay director. It’s coming from within the house. Oder, in this example, an Italian villa.
Continue reading: How Queer as Folk Became the Defining Gay TV Show of a Generation—Twice
Already knew that I was interested in gay sex. SpecialBut Please Call me by Your NameYou lit a fire. It would not be possible to pan away from a tree. All would be visible: the good, bad and the poop. Also, I wanted to develop a better relationship with my body. When you’re born disabled, society immediately castrates you. Sexually, you aren’t considered sexually capable. You will not be able to fulfill your desires if you don’t have them. My entire life has been spent trying to get my penis back and feeling sexually attractive. It was my desire to see sex in public. SpecialTo be an example to younger gay youth as they navigated the dark waters of gay sexuality. It also served to let me tell the world, I will not disappear. Look at me. You’ll have to examine my scars. You’ll have to see my normal stomach. This will make it clear why I find this so remarkable. Because it shouldn’t be. My body doesn’t represent anything revolutionary. It’s just a body.
Early screenings were held for SpecialAs Ryan prepares for his virginity, the audience shared in their concern and discomfort. He was certain that something terrible was coming to them, and they were sure some humiliation would be on the horizon. There wasn’t. Ryan found it a positive and empowering experience, while I found their fear fascinating and depressing. The fact that they couldn’t fathom a scene where a disabled person has agency is the reason why the sex scene needed to exist in the first place. A positive experience sexually should not be considered a novelty for someone with disabilities.
Yet, it happens. This is the reason why after SpecialEnd, gay sex was my muse and is still being explored today. Queer as Folk reboot. Julian actually had sex with two men in one night. (After eating beignets. It’s a tempting place.

Devin Way as Brodie, Johnny Sibilly as Noah “Queer as Folk”
Peacock
My mind is still baffled by how strict people can be when it comes to sex. I’ve read some early reviews of my novel and so many of them include mentions of the “frank” depiction of gay sex. “Not for everyone!” people say. “Too graphic for me,” wrote one review. It’s sad that in this era of literal hell people are so scared of depictions of pleasure. Because gay sex or not, that’s really what I’m showing: People finding—and sometimes losing—themselves through the act of sex. They put on masks, and then try to remove them with their partners. They’re striving for intimacy. Connection. Happiness. Something we’re all starved for and can relate to. And that’s why I will keep coming back to sex in my work. It taps into the root of what makes storytelling so powerful: It’s personal and specific (“Am I going to have an accident with/on my partner?”) which makes it universal (“I hope this person can see and accept me for who I am”).
For me, the whole purpose of creating things is to help people feel less isolated, less lonely, and less stigmatized. One thing I’m sure of: Sex is a great way to do that. And that’s why I’ll never stop getting naked and having fake sex on TV, even though having someone cover up the zits on your butt IS humiliating. Seriously. I wouldn’t recommend.
Ryan O’Connell is a two-time Emmy® Award-nominated writer, producer and actor. O’Connell’s debut novel Only by looking at Him was published on June 7, 2022 by Atria, an imprint of Simon & Schuster. O’Connell presently stars in Peacock’s reimagining of Russell T. Davies groundbreaking original series Queer as FolkHe is also a writer, and an executive producer at. O’Connell is best known for his groundbreaking Netflix series, Special, which became a cultural phenomenon and received four Emmy® Award nominations and a WGA Award.
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