Netflix’s Bodyguard Knows I’m Basic in the Bedroom, and I’m Offended

Warning: Contains spoilers for early episodes of Bodyguard.

I don’t quite know what percentage of TV I watch just to feel horny, but “in order to feel horny” is 100 percent of the reason I watched Bodyguard. I saw this image of David Budd (Richard Madden, a.k.a. Robb Stark), with that perfect jawline of his, pressed against Julia Montague (Keeley Hawes), who is aching for his kiss and I knew I instantly had to binge it.

While the show may have taught me nothing about British politics (and while it decided to completely whiff on making any sort of progressive statement on the surveillance state, in favor of adding like ten twists), it did teach me a little bit about myself. Namely, that I’m basic when it comes to sexual fantasies—and that much as I’d like to think myself a complicated, independent woman, deep down I might just want what many people think women want: protection, loyalty, and a strong man with a strong back. Dammit!

It’s just so obvious, the bodyguard fantasy. She’s the ambitious Home Secretary with heinous political views and ice in her veins. He’s the kind-hearted ex-military protection officer dealing with demons of his own. He’d never vote for her, but of course now he’s tasked with protecting her. At first, he calls her “Ma’am” and she sees him as a necessary inconvenience (always changing their routes home, how annoying). But they’re both so lonely and attractive, they’re inevitably being pulled together with every interaction.

The first sex scene comes after an assassination attempt in which he’s quick, decisive, and intensely competent (well, except for at the end, but we’ll get back to that) and she’s entirely dependent on him protecting her. Later, shaken and vulnerable, she reaches out for him; they fall into each other and into bed. And then, well, we get a bunch of dry-mouth kissing and close-ups of hands grabbing sheets. It’s all so romance novel, softcore porn-y—“This is what you like, right ladies?”—that it all felt pretty meh to me. There’s not even any noise! Honestly, I felt a little vindicated later finding out that people thought he looked bad at kissing in this scene.

Richard Madden (David Budd) and Keeley Hawes (Julia Montague) in Bodyguard

World Productions/Netflix

But just as I was feeling really above it all, and kinda blue-ovaried, the last scene of episode 2 knocked me out. Montague opens the door of their adjoining hotel rooms (okay, hot) and they stare lasciviously at each other, before crashing into each other once more. There’s noise this time. Panting, she says that this romantic relationship could compromise their jobs. Budd replies, while thrusting into her, “Nothing complicates my job. It’s to protect you.” Credits. Now that’s hot.

There I was, minding my own business, watching a TV show, suddenly exposed for the basic (sexual) bitch—who wants love and protection and strength—that I am. I thought I was one way and Bodyguard showed me: Nah, I’m this way. Like all my porn search terms should just be “Nice guy + respectful.” Can you imagine someone whispering that their purpose is just to protect you in your ear? Getting off to that makes me feel like vanilla ice cream (delicious, but normal).

Netflix

It’s like that one time my co-worker said, “I think furry sex seems pretty hot, actually,” and another was talking about what types of sex toys she was going to buy with her girlfriend. And I smiled along and thought, “Yes, I too am interesting.” And then I had a dream about being married to Sebastian Stan wearing a chunky sweater and we just, like, had a pretty house and a baby and were happy and it was my hottest fantasy. Ugh!

Obviously, the whole bodyguard fantasy is nothing new. (Hello, The Bodyguard.) You still get to be the strong powerful woman, you get to be in control—but you also get a man who protects you. It’s literally his job to keep you safe and pay attention to you and get you out of sticky situations. But that’s not him being obsessive in a creepy way because, again, it’s his job. I know it’s not very empowered to want to be looked after by a man. But I’d contend you’re allowed to ignore that kind of thing when it’s purely a hypothetical meant for the purposes of getting you off.

How it all plays out in the show isn’t uncomplicated: If you peel open the Bodyguard version of this fantasy back, it’s very twisted. I mean, when they first hook up, Budd doesn’t know if she intentionally kept his kids in harm’s way, and he’s also keeping a secret from her (just that he knows the identity of the man who tried to assassinate her, no biggie). But, at least at first, the show keeps it ambiguous enough that you just kind of go with it, with the hope that maybe she’ll get exposed or change, and hopefully he’ll frickin’ go to therapy. Things get rather more tangled later on, but I’ll leave that to you to discover for yourself.

Bodyguard was very popular in its home territory. Before it came to Netflix, Bodyguard premiered on the BBC with 6.9 million viewers (nice); 10.4 million viewers watched the finale. It had a larger average audience than any other UK TV program apart from the World Cup, according to the Guardian. So it spoke to a lot of people. While the Daily Mail picked up that a bunch of people didn’t like the sex scenes (they just wanted a thriller! I will never understand the type of person who gets mad at a show suddenly involving sex) what kind of show did they think they were watching? It’s called Bodyguard! Come on!

Part of me wants to be offended by how thoroughly this show saw me and my desires, but I’ve decided to just embrace it. You could make fun of this sexual version of the pumpkin-spice latte, or you could just be swept up in it. You could be mad at how you smiled when he smiled when she pulled them into the bathroom for an illicit kiss, or you could just rewatch that moment a couple more times. What’s the point in feeling above it all about something as harmless as TV sex? (There are actual issues with this show that we could talk about, but we’re just talking about the boning part here.) You like the idea of a man protecting you and grabbing your back? So what! You can still be an independent, free-thinking woman and want to be called “Ma’am” occasionally. In bed.

Bodyguard is streaming on Netflix now.