He was born and grew up in the South with traditional parents and siblings, with all traditional values of a southern family where being anything other than the stereotypical "Traditional" like his parents was treated with heavy discrimination. It wasn't unusual to hear about the hate crimes happening on the news or uttered with spite from the older folks working the tills of the local grocery mart or whispered outside of the church where people were supposed to be loving and all accepting. He had always known he was 'different' from even a young age and hearing those whispers for himself made him too afraid to ever try to do anything about it. It forced Rhys to close himself off and hide, falling into a heavy depression at twelve hating being "her mother's beautiful daughter" growing into a body he didn't belong to, and constantly hounded on the expectations of settling down and becoming a baby factory for "her" husband.
It continued all the way up until he was fifteen and a suicide attempt landed him three days in the hospital. Surviving what should have killed him gained him some hold to try to do things for himself and seeing it as he was already being the blacksheep of his family and the seed of the gossip mill for his 'sins' with the fresh scars on his wrists, he figured he was damned either way. He got questioned on all his choices of cutting his hair short and wearing as tight of shirts and tops as he could get away with, intent on turning away the suitors his father would try to bring home for him and at least try be the person he knew he was. He was an embarrassment to his parents, unable to be "normal" and fulfill "her" role of housewife and mother as all the women had done before in the soulless land. Or so it felt.
It wasn't but the last few years he barely started gaining the confidence to be able to truly be himself that he always felt he was inside and take the steps to lay his dead name and self to rest. Getting out of his parents house as soon as he was able to at 18 when they no longer had any control over him and moving to the bigger city away from the hellhole pit, he worked odd jobs to get himself into school by nineteen. It was only trade but at least it was a foot in the door for the right direction. He found passion in cooking, loving the freedom and ability to change something bland into a beautiful desirable thing. He excelled in his class and after busting his ass for four years in the advanced program, moved to California on a job promotion to help open a new restaurant there.
He saw it as a new start in the sense nobody knew him except for who he introduced himself as. Nobody there knew his past or who he used to be unlike the people he couldn't escape living the small town country life. Once established with an apartment and his job going well, he was finally able to get himself into the therapy he needed to put himself on the right direction mentally as well as physically.
Through the positive help of his therapist, he was able to successfully start transitioning in the way helpful to his mental state. Thus to date, he has been on T for 4 years and after saving every spare penny working as much overtime as his job would give him, saved up enough to get his top surgery done. While his were never very large that allowed him to hide them fairly easily, it was no less of a relief to be free of one more anchor of his past and keep moving forward in the right direction.
He could go to the beach shirtless now without kids asking why he had boobs. Most importantly, he could look at himself in the mirror without feeling disgust. That was 6 months ago. His scars faded and he was happy. Even the scars on his wrists had faded to such tiny thin lines, they could barely be seen. He tried the dating scene but so many years of trying to love himself first made it extremely hard to extend it out to others and a deeper harbored fear of rejection for being different. No matter how far he could try to distance himself from his parents and small town, they had buried themselves in deep like a splinter beneath his skin. It didn't help either he heard the way women talked at bars thinking he couldn't hear them, giggling and nudging each other trying to guess how big his package was then all the things they would do to him back at their place. The nonexistent package in fact so he just avoided them or left.
Until he started trying gay bars and found more happiness there.
Creeping into the Holiday season, I'd love for him to finally find his one and only. Maybe someone at the coffee shop he's flirted with, or at the gym where he works out.
Or I'm shameless on the reunion trope and so maybe it could be the one person my guy had as support in highschool and they lost touch after mine moved. Or a roommate he had to get when rent prices went up just to help with the bills.
I'd love to explore the emotional depth of them finding their happy place in each other. Showing each other affection and attention with my guy coming around to accept it where he's kept people at arms length out of fear of discrimination because it was all he knew for so long. Give me movies under a fuzzy blanket in the livingroom, sweet kisses etc, snowy walks on a trail, hot cocoa. He's a chef so give me cute cooking in the kitchen together.
Would love it to be slash. Open to most kinks (please ask first) and smut friendly. Not picky on faces.