Diff86, I appreciate that you're curious, and think you asked the question in a perfectly acceptable way.
The answer, of course, is that what you do in bed has little to do with the way you act in public. There are flaming, effeminate gay men, and many are incredibly aggressive tops. Plenty of macho men enjoy what you'd call a submissive posture; it's a way for them to let down their facade and give themselves over to pleasure. You can't pick 'em.
In my single days, the pictures that accompnied gay dating sites on the (then) early web amused me. Men would be dressed in leather and roughneck gear for a portrait, but the background would reveal regency furniture and a poodle.
Here's a personal insight. My boy and I are both tops. But we're in love and we turn each other on. What do we do in bed? Occasionally, he plays bottom, and even more rarely, I grit my teeth and submit. Mostly, we improvise.
Neither of us come across as gay, apparently. So nobody seems to be able to pick who's the Mommy and who's the Daddy. It upsets them...they want to see a relationship between men through a heterosexual lens.
It doesn't work that way for guys (and in a non-sexist relationship, it shouldn't work that way for a mixed couple, either.) If it makes more sense for him to take charge of something (like the yard--he loves to garden and can really put his back into a shovel) then he takes charge. If it makes more sense for me to take charge (like driving; he never got his license) then I do.
This works 99% of the time. However, putting together Ikea bookshelves ABSOLUTELY presses all of our primal buttons. "No, YOU just hold it there, and I'll screw this bit...no, that doen't go there...let ME hold that while you...gimme the screwdriver...can you go faster with that allen key...no, THIS way...I told you that was upside down..." and we end up in fisticuffs.
And every so often we have the Housewife Argument. When we first started getting serious (what a charmingly old-fashioned expression, getting serious...) I asked him what his ambition was. "I want to be a housewife," he told me. "That ain't gonna happen," I replied, "I'm the one who wants to be a housewife." The argument escalated until I had him in a head lock, shouting "Say it, BITCH, what are you?" and he gave in, agreeing to be the working stiff while I damn well packed his lunch and had a tray of fucking cookies made for when he got home. I sure as hell showed HIM who wore the apron in this house, yes sir.
I think that was the closest he ever came to being a bottom.
HB8
P.S. Altarion, I don't recall you being gay. When did this happen? You sly dog.