Notes
This was originally going to be a Lucky AU. Serial killer wins the lottery and in the process, wins the girl he's crushing on? Hella potential. But then I kept thinking about the plot and certain aspects [Lucy only being interested in Ben after winning the lottery for instance, and them fighting about money] did not fit Brahms and Ruby. So I took the base idea of 'Boy thinks he needs riches to woo a girl' and modified it a bit. Lot more wholesome softness, and obsessive love. I do want to state right now that I myself am a ciswoman, so if at any point I write something offensive to those who are trans, or anything incorrect, please tell me so I can correct it. I'm doing research whenever possible, but things slip through, especially without anyone to ask directly. You can do so by leaving a comment here, or messaging me on tumblr, linked on my profile, or emailing me, or even asking for my discord. No Beta Reader, so if there's mistakes, lmk so I can correct them.
More notes at the bottom! Originally posted on AO3
There had been a warning, at least. From his father, of all people- he would have thought his mother would be the one to tell him, but no.
Things had been strained with her ever since he'd cut his hair off, long curls discarded in the trash. It was still a mess, uneven and wild, and he had no plans to change it anytime soon, regardless of what she might say.
The warning comes with enough time to plan, to bargain. In the end, he'd get to leave with the old car that his parents never used, as much clothing and books as he could fit in his suitcase, and enough money to live on for a few months if he was careful- just until he found a job to support himself.
In an odd way, it almost felt like a birthday gift- to be able to leave with useful things, instead of being kicked out with nothing.
His mother waits until after the cake to tell him.
It was always the same kind, rich chocolate with swirls of strawberry cream frosting- always from the same bakery. Decent, but not nearly as good as the cake he'll find once he's in London proper, though for now he only wonders how many birthdays he'll have where he has no cake at all.
He takes what's left with him when he leaves, his parents' words echoing in his mind.
It was tradition. They had said, bringing to mind the stories his father used to tell when he was little, curled up with his stuffed cat and listening with eyes wide. When a son is an adult like he now was, they were expected to leave home to find their fortune, that his father, and his father's father, and on like thus, had done it and returned home wealthier than when they left.
In a way, he wondered if it was their way of accepting him as their son, and not their daughter- to have the tradition apply to him- or perhaps it was simply an excuse.
He knows which he'd prefer, and which he'll tell himself it is.
It takes two months, over 100 applications, and more dead ends and interviews that went nowhere to get a job, one that starts as part time and transitions to full once he'd worked for six months, at an office building near his tiny apartment.
He's an assistant, his days filled with running errands, or filing paperwork, or arranging meetings- little things that added up over time. The pay was rotten at first, but after he'd been working there for 3 years, his raises had gotten him to a point he could begin to save with every paycheck.
It allowed him small freedoms, better binders and haircuts and the beginning of hormone therapy, his outsides matching his insides better over time.
There were other small perks, as well- the coworkers he'd chat with between tasks, the cake on his birthday that was better than any he'd ever had, and his favorite one- the bakery just down the street he was sent to for coffees or lunch orders, the one where he'd get to spend a few moments talking with her.
Brahms' first impression of Ruby was an almost chaotic one. His boss had text that morning to ask him to get coffee for the office, and he'd gone to the bakery down the street called The Cupcake Graveyard, getting in the morning rush line and watching as the girls worked- all dressed like pirates, for reasons his tired brain couldn't process.
Ruby had been in a blouse and leather corset, her skirt tucked up on one side and leather boots on her feet, flashes of silver in the morning light against her legs.
The man at the front of the line sneered at her, looking to the owner behind the counter and speaking loudly enough everyone would hear him.
"You let your waitresses run around with weapons? Seems dangerous"
He can see the moment it registered to Ruby, and the anger that flashed in her eyes. Without a word, she passed the tray she'd been carrying to the blonde waitress in leather pants and a dark purple blouse, and climbed onto a table in two easy steps- one foot on a chair, up, and the second onto the table.
Once she was there, she cupped her hands around her mouth, as though to amplify her voice.
"Graveyard goers, It seems this man thinks I have a weapon" Everyone is looking at her by now, one or two people glancing at the table to confirm the powder blue tablecloth is still there, protecting the table from her booted feet.
With all attention on her, she'd bent to yank her skirt up over her knees, gathering it in a bundle of cloth before she spins, impossibly, giving everyone a 360 view of the flashing silver of her legs below the knees, the prosthetic cyborg limbs that she had.
With that done, she'd all but thrown her skirts down into place, her eyes on the man who spoke- her hand catching the light, her arm from who-knows-how-far a prosthetic as well.
"It is so clearly my legs and not a blade, but perhaps you used that as an excuse to hide your anti-cyborg opinions."
She'd jumped down from the table at that, pulling the tablecloth off before she stalked over to the man, the redheaded owner taking the cloth without comment.
The man, seeming to realize he's caught out, begins to rant about how cyborgs are an abomination, that people should learn to live without whatever limbs had been replaced, that cyborgs stole jobs from good, hard working people.
Ruby let him rant for a few moments, waiting until he took a breath to speak again.
"You have until the count of five to leave on your own, or I shall lead you out by your ear. Your choice."
The man had scoffed, watching as Ruby counted down as she said she would- one hand held up to tick off the numbers with her fingers.
There was a brief pause once she hit 1, and the man seemed to think he had won- but quicker than could be seen, she'd reached out, grasped the man's ear, and dragged him by it to the door, shoving him out with a "Don't come back if you're going to spout that sort of bullshit".
She'd turned to face the bakery again, a flash of sorrow crossing her features before she pulled a smile back into place, an apology for the interruption to the morning given with a thoughtful offer of a free drink or baked treat as a way of apology.
Everyone took advantage of that, but no one seemed to think to ask her if she was okay, not that he saw at least.
The other workers- Raine and Crow, if he overheard correctly- had paused to put a hand on her arm, or give a soft smile, checking in their way, but no customer had asked.
He'd made sure to ask when it was his turn, and the whirlwind of coffee and muffins and a cupcake for himself was ordered, to make sure she was ok.
It'd been the first time he saw that soft, sweet smile, and in that moment, he'd fallen head over heels into a crush that would only grow stronger as time went on.
Brahms knew she was flirting, after that first meeting- it was impossible to not notice, the way she had a smile that was more real than the customer service™ smiles those before him in line would get, the way her voice got that light, sweet lilt to it, or how her fingers always seemed to linger those extra few moments when she handed him his change or a bag of baked goods and sandwiches. At one point, he'd even found a small, soft parcel, brown paper and dark green yarn holding it shut, a note tucked into it that simply said 'To Brahms, from Ruby'
It contained the softest dark green set of gloves, a scarf, and a hat, and though he tried more than once to find the company that had made it, there were no tags to go off of- only a silver star stitched into each piece, like a signature of sorts. He'd thought to ask Ruby, but it never came up- even when her eyes lit up at the sight of him using the pieces at winter's first chill.
But even then, he didn't ask for her number, or for her to go on a date with him.
He'd gushed about her in his letters to Malcolm, of course, how could he not? But he'd asked for advice as well, and it had been the unfortunate 'Don't ask her while she's working, she'd be trapped and unable to really respond'.
It was disheartening, especially as time went on and he never seemed to run into her outside the bakery- never saw her at the store, or heading from work to wherever she lived, or saw her out having fun.
That is, until today.
He hadn't been able to go until after work, when the bakery would be closing soon itself. Of course, that meant Ruby wasn't working anymore, and his shoulders slump when he sees the firetruck-red haired owner behind the counter in her place.
Still, he heads inside, shuffling up to the counter easily- no line for now, only a few customers sitting at the colorfully-mismatched tables- with the intent of getting himself a treat to bring home. He doesn't notice the owner's smile, or the way she pulls out her phone to send a text, looking up at him after it pings with a reply.
"Hey Brahms! Guessing you're here more to see Ruby than the sweets, hmm?" Raine, the owner and main baker, comments lightly- her tone is light, almost playful, as though she's his older sister teasing him about his latest crush. It's enough to draw a bit of pink to his cheeks, ducking his head in an attempt to hide it.
She seems to take that as a yes, stopping the blonde haired waitress who's heading into the kitchen with a bin of dirty dishes.
"Crow, once you've put that down, think you could bring Brahms upstairs to the living room? Thought Ruby would enjoy his company"
The blond- Crow, though he recalls offhandedly her joking with a customer she'll answer to Raven as well, as crows and ravens get mixed up so often- grins, teeth white against the black of her lipstick.
"She's going to be thrilled!" A glance over her shoulder at him has him looking back up, tugging nervously on the sleeve of his sweater. "Just give me a minute to put these by the sink and wash my hands, and I'll take you upstairs."
There's something almost forbidden about that- there being an upstairs. He'd have assumed it was storage, that Ruby was doing inventory or something of the sort, but Raine had mentioned a living room…something that seemed out of place above a bakery.
Before he can think on it further, Crow returns, gesturing for him to step behind the counter as she pushes aside a curtain covered in different cats, revealing a set of stairs.
"She's going to be thrilled to see you, she was disappointed when you didn't show up during the lunch rush today." Crow comments lightly, heading up the stairs and looking over her shoulder to make sure he's following- and he is, having looked to Raine for confirmation that he was allowed.
"She was?" Brahms' attention is on Crow now, slowly following her up the stairs until it opens onto a brightly lit hallway, doors lining both sides and a soft buttercup yellow rug on the floor.
"Oh absolutely! Raine had to basically banish her from waiting to see if you were just running later than usual- she's got a habit of overworking herself sometimes." As she talks, Crow heads down the hall, passing closed doors and open ones, slivers of bedrooms decorated in different ways showing through, until she stops in the doorway of what he assumes is the living room.
Ruby is perched on a faded maroon couch, her usual long sleeved top and jeans swapped for an off the shoulder t-shirt and shorts, a controller in her hand as she focuses on the screen he can't see from this angle- only to let out a stream of very angry sounding French, tossing the controller onto the couch beside her.
"I only needed one more hit and the stupid fucking…..squid abomination bastard oneshot me!" She complains to Crow, before she seems to notice Brahms, her eyes lighting up with a smile as she raises her arms above her head, as though in victory.
"Brahms! It's fantastic to see you, even if I feel silly knowing you had to hear me complain about Mass Effect. Insanity difficulty is a bastard but if I can beat the first two games on it, I am not letting the third be when I give up."
Crow muffles a laugh, giving him a little nudge into the living room. "I'll bring up snacks for you guys in a bit….have fun!"
And with that, she's gone, heading back downstairs, and he's left with his crush who's patting a spot on the couch next to her, beaming.
This was not how he expected today to go.