Gay hook-up culture: Subverting the stereotype
24 grey squares, 15 torsos, three bums and a cartoon bear. This is what I counted the last time I opened up the Grindr app on my phone and scrolled through the feed of local profiles.
Open the app anywhere in the world and it will be a similar story. A sea of mysterious profiles aimed to intrigue other users without disclosing the identity of the person behind the account.
It is safe to say that whoever is behind each of these profiles enjoys the anonymity that dating apps allow. It is also more than likely that at least some of these users are interested in hooking up but are decidedly uninterested in learning your name or telling you theirs.
Men meeting other men for sex having exchanged only nudes, no personal details, has become the stereotype when it comes to gay hook-up culture. Like many stereotypes, there is a modicum of truth in this queer cliché. For a multitude of reasons, ‘discreet’ hook-ups are, extremely popular. However, they are not the only type of hook-up which exists.
For every blank profile, there is someone who doesn’t mind sharing their face, and maybe even their name if you’re lucky. Someone who wants to get to know a little bit about the person they are interested in getting naked with before they do so. Who realises that, just because the shared end goal is sex, this isn’t the only activity you might enjoy engaging in together; you can share meaningful conversation and sweet moments along the way.
‘No-strings-attached’ doesn’t mean you have to remain entirely detached from the other person - you are allowed to get to know them. Hook-up stories can be just as personal and intimate as the ‘traditional’, heteronormative romantic tales which we are more used to associating with these adjectives.
To test this theory, I asked a group of gay men - from a range of different backgrounds, age groups and locations - to share casual dating stories which subvert the stereotype of anonymous hook-ups. For these men to speak openly about their experiences, I (rather ironically) agreed to keep all of their identities anonymous.
I was in Berlin for 10 days last Summer. One evening, while out for dinner with friends, I received a message from a hot Brazilian guy on Grindr. It read: Are you the guy I saw earlier with the great smille? I responded, saying yes, obviously that was me.
We continued messaging and the next afternoon, while I was doing a spot of nude sunbathing he asked if I would like to come over. Once again, my answer was yes.
We started passionately kissing as soon as I got to his apartment. Instead of taking me to his bedroom straight away like I expected, he asked if I was hungry. I was so he started cooking for us. He put some music on and we danced around together and continued kissing while the food cooked.
We ate, we chatted, we shared a joint on the balcony, we carried on dancing, and then we had sex. Afterwards, we lay in bed together, cuddling and chatting. And then I left.
It was just a casual hook-up but it wasn’t the soulless kind. It was warm and nourishing. It is good to know that side of hook-up culture is still very much alive.
I accidentally left my vest at his. We swapped numbers and he said to give him a shout the next time I was in the city so perhaps I will retrieve it one day.
I met a toxicologist turned DJ on Grindr. He, surprisingly, didn’t send nudes. We came up with the idea of doing a bar crawl and having sex in the toilets of each bar before deciding that a hotel would make us both feel more relaxed. He had the strongest Birmingham accent I had ever heard. I loved it. He was sweet but he knew what he wanted. We had two hours of intense foreplay. He did this little laugh every time he got excited over something he was about to do to me. It was so cute. He said my body was beautiful. I tried to laugh it off but he was being serious. He kept looking at me before coming back in for a kiss. His eyes. His fucking eyes! Green with hints of hazel. He fucked me against the window. He hit all the right places. We showered together and kept kissing. We talked. We cuddled. We went out for drinks. He told me about himself and his dating experiences. We laughed. We ate a lot. Back in the hotel, more foreplay. We fell asleep together. In the morning, more kissing, even more foreplay. We walked to the station together. I kissed him goodbye. He came back and said, “I need another one”. He kissed me one last time.
Illustration by Headless Greg
I was in a 15-year relationship, a civil partnership. During that time, the only experience I had of hooking up was when we’d get drunk, buy coke, and use Grindr to find someone to have a threesome with. We did this more and more, especially towards breaking up.
More recently, as a single, gay 44-year-old man I have been exploring hook-up culture more than ever before. I am moving away from a place of being quite conservative and fearful, and gaining a better understanding of the different dynamics hook-ups can have.
As an older gay, I have found that I am quite desirable to some younger guys (read into that what you will, I’m not a therapist). There is one guy I hook up with quite regularly who is in an open relationship but is looking for more than just sex. The sex is amazing but we also have an emotional connection.
There is another guy I have hooked up with, who is again a bit younger, who has taught me about terminology like ‘situationships’. I have learnt that the expectations around dating are much more flexible now than they were when I was young and out on the gay scene, pre-apps. People hook up with the intention of forming friendships and relationships in a more fluid way.
Hook-up culture has taught me to be less judgmental of myself. It’s okay to have short interactions which are not defined. Not everything needs an anticipated end date.
While on holiday in Lisbon, I went on Grindr to find a local tour guide who could spice up my trip. I quickly started chatting online with a ridiculously handsome Portuguese guy. We clicked immediately. Then we realised there was a logistical issue: he was flying out the next day. We had one night. One shot.
We met outside my AirBnB and the night began with a 100-meter vertical climb to a viewpoint. By the time we were at the top, I was gasping for breath. He was patient, kind, and very much worth the cardio.
At the viewpoint, he gave me a crash course on Lisbon’s history while rolling a joint. He was cultured, thoughtful and effortlessly cool. As soon as we got back to my AirBnB, he dropped his bag, pinned me against the wall, and kissed me. I melted.
What followed was unlike anything I had experienced before. We let the night unfold at its own pace. He wasn't just focused on the act; he prioritised me. Every touch, every moment, was intentional. He'd pause to tell me how beautiful I was, share a random anecdote, or check to make sure I felt safe and comfortable. The sense of reassurance and freedom was intoxicating.
For hours, we explored each other, finding an ebb and flow that felt almost symphonic. He made me feel seen, desired, and valued. That night shifted my perspective. It showed me that hook-ups can be passionate, affirming and even transformative.
As a gay man who often feels like he doesn’t fit neatly into any label, I’ve struggled with self-worth. That hook-up helped me love myself again. It reminded me that I am attractive, desirable, and worthy of connection.
Many gay men - my younger self included - feel discouraged from exploring hook-up culture due to its impersonal reputation. That’s the problem with stereotypes; they lead to misguided assumptions.
Hook-ups come in all forms. They can be sexual connections explored over months and years, or one-off experiences which leave a long-lasting impression. Yes, they can be anonymous and impersonal. But they can also be tender, empowering, nourishing, soulful, enlightening, transformative, and even romantic.
We should not let a stereotype dissuade us from experiencing the queer joy which hooking up can offer.