Reiner Braun was roused from his nap by the sound of a key turning in the lock. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, letting out a shockingly loud yawn. "Bertl?" he called out sleepily, his gaze fixated on the cherry red door.
"Y-yeah, it's me." His boyfriend, Bertholdt Hoover, half-stumbled through the door, attempting to balance his bike with one hand while holding the door open with the other. The damp Seattle air wafted through the open door as Bertholdt struggled. Reiner immediately jumped off the couch, eager to help. The panniers of Bertholdt's old road bike were stuffed to the brim with foodstuffs.
"You're making dinner tonight?" Reiner asked, unable to contain his excitement. For the past few days, Bertholdt had been struggling to finish a presentation for his research, meaning long hours spent between the Suzzallo Library and the chemistry lab with few hours spent at home. While Reiner could scrape by on top ramen and microwave mac-n-cheese, he sorely missed the home cooked meals that Bertholdt prepared.
Bertholdt gave an enthusiastic nod. "Is Annie coming over?" Reiner could tell by the faint smile on Bertholdt's lips, that he was excited to see their childhood friend, who had grown up with them in the Saarland of Germany.
"Of course. It's her movie night, too." Reiner tried to suppress a frown.
"Oh no, if it's a scary movie again…"
"I'll tell her she's banned from our place until she can pick a not-scary movie."
Reiner began putting away the groceries as Bertholdt opened up the fridge. He could sense his boyfriend's discontent as Bertholdt took a step back from the fridge, his arms crossed. "Reiner… what is this?" he asked, making the switch from English to German.
"Uhhh…" Reiner felt his face grow red. Replying in their native language, he said, "I used some of your grant money to restock the fridge."
Bertholdt shook his head in mock despair. "My grant money? You know I can't stomach a stout."
Reiner was quick to move to the fridge, pushing the row of Elysian stout to reveal a second row of beer. "See? I got your favorite pale ale, too. Bertl, you have no taste."
The corner of Bertholdt's mouth twitched in slight irritation. Reiner could tell that Bertholdt was withholding a comment about his own beer tastes, but instead Bertholdt grumbled, "You realize there is little space for anything else, now? I don't know where I'll put the milk and eggs…" With a resigned sigh Bertholdt began rearranging the fridge.
Reiner left Bertholdt to reorganizing the fridge, and he returned to restocking the pantry. The kitchen was admittedly not his province; he could survive on frozen dinners, and the most cooking he ever did was placing rice in the rice cooker or instant dinners in the microwave. Yet Bertholdt could spend hours making food. Even if he wasn't the greatest cook, he was certainly competent, and for that Reiner was grateful.
Bertholdt finished reorganizing the fridge as Reiner put the last of the groceries away; Bertholdt shut the fridge door with his hip, two beers in hand. With that, they sank down on the couch. Bertholdt took off his blue sweater in favor of pulling his favored University of Washington sweatshirt over his head. It was so baggy on him, like many of his clothes— it was impossibly hard to find clothing that fit Bertholdt's tall, lanky frame. The hoodie was part of his Bertl, though, and contentedly Reiner rested his head on Bertholdt's mop of dark hair. Friday evenings were for movie watching, cuddles and kisses, beers and banging, though the last on the list could only happen when Annie finally went home.
A very assertive set of three short knocks on the door shook Reiner out of his daydreams. Only one person knocked on their door like that. "I'll get it," Bertholdt said quickly, as three more knocks resounded through their living space.
Their diminutive friend entered the apartment, abandoning her sneakers at the door. "Reiner…" Annie grumbled, pushing her long, blonde bangs out of her face as she looked down at him, "What did I say about pants?" She drifted between the high German of her classroom studies and the dialect that Reiner and Bertholdt clung to.
"The home is a pants free zone… except when Annie Leonhardt comes over." Reiner pushed himself off the couch, almost knocking over Bertholdt's beer in the process. He shuffled into the bedroom, digging through the pile of dirty clothes to find a pair of ratty grey sweatpants. Even if Annie invoked the "no pants" clause, he was going to be comfortable. Just to spite Annie, he didn't bother to find a shirt.
When Reiner returned to the common space, Annie and Bertholdt were talking about his upcoming presentation while he went about the dinner preparations. She cast Reiner a glance that captured her annoyance with his shirtlessness, but he chose to ignore it. It was Annie's loss if she couldn't appreciate his chiseled physique. "So, Annie, tonight is your movie night. What did you rent from Scarecrow video?"
Annie shrugged. "A horror movie."
"I knew it," Bertholdt whispered.
Reiner frowned slightly. "What movie is it?" Out of the corner of his eye he could see Bertholdt recede into his hoodie as he chopped the carrots.
"I guess you'll just have to wait and see," Annie teased as she pulled one of Reiner's stouts from the fridge and sat down in the armchair that had been aptly dubbed 'Annie's throne'. "What's for dinner, Bertl?"
"Err, nikujaga. It's a kind of Japanese beef stew. I got the recipe from Mikasa," Bertholdt explained, surprisingly flustered at such a simple question. It was a telltale sign that he'd not ever tried the recipe before, and despite all his success in the kitchen (and in other areas, too), Bertholdt had cripplingly low self-esteem.
"I'm sure it will be delicious, Mikasa's recipe for katsu was amazing," Reiner responded quickly, fast to cut off any sarcastic retort that Annie would surely make, simultaneously offering Bertholdt his approval. Bertholdt and Mikasa, Annie's first-year roommate, often exchanged traditional recipes. Annie simply stared at him coldly, but made no comment. "Let me know if you'd like my help."
Bertholdt gave a small shake of his head. "I… I think I got it," he stuttered, and Reiner decided it would be best to let his boyfriend cook on his own.
For a while the three remained in silence. While some of their other friends might find such an atmosphere lonely, it was welcome after a long week. He could tell that Annie was exhausted by the way she leaned back in her chair, her eyes shut. Unlike Bertholdt and Annie, Reiner did not have an excuse to be tired, but the quiet was welcome. They would awaken as soon as Bertholdt announced that dinner was ready.
Reiner's stomach was growling and his mouth was watering long before Bertholdt placed a bowl of steaming stew in his hands. He didn't even wait for Annie to receive her portion. He quickly set to awkwardly fishing out the chunks of beef with his chopsticks; no amount of training from Mikasa and Eren would ever make him proficient. As his boyfriend sunk down on the couch next to him, Reiner ignored Annie's spiteful glare and gave Bertholdt a kiss on the cheek in appreciation for the good meal.
"So, Annie, what are we watching tonight?" Reiner asked again, feeling a strange trepidation at her response.
Annie got up to fish the DVD out of her messenger bag. "I chose a supposed classic. Hope it's terrifying." She flashed them the cover of the case. It read Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho.
"Black and white?" Reiner scoffed. "It's from the 60's, it can't be that scary."
Annie gave him a look that said challenge accepted. Bertholdt scooted over on the couch to sit right next to Reiner; he had already pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. Reiner finished the last of his dinner as the film began and he put an arm around Bertholdt, pulling him close. Annie came to sit next to them on the couch, though eventually she would come to regret it.
Reiner knew just enough about Psycho to know about the infamous shower scene. He was certain that if Bertholdt saw that particular scene, he wouldn't shower for a minimum of a month. Because Bertholdt had nefariously bad nervous sweats, he needed to shower daily, and Reiner wasn't keen on sharing a bed with a Bertholdt that hadn't showered in two days, let alone two weeks. So as the shower scene loomed ahead, Reiner planned a distraction for Bertholdt. It started simply by pulling Bertholdt closer, then dragging his boyfriend onto his lap. He ignored the warning glances from Annie as he leaned in, placing a small kiss on the curve of Bertl's nose, before reaching up to make contact with Bertholdt's lips.
The woman was screaming as her attacker stabbed her in the shower, but he was too focused on the way his lips fit too well with Bertholdt's, how much he loved the way Bertholdt's sweaty hands gripped at his bare skin. "Twenty-eight… twenty-nine… thirty," he heard Annie count, before a pillow whacked him square upside the head, effectively breaking up his kiss.
Reiner stalwartly ignored Annie's attacks, choosing instead to reach up Bertholdt's hoodie with one hand, the other hand reaching out to grab the next pillow Annie lobbed at them. He caught it and flung it back in slight annoyance.
"Don't give her the pillows," Bertholdt whispered to Reiner, a small, devilish, grin on his face.
So he weathered the onslaught of Annie's pillows, until she had run out of ammunition. Then he resumed distracting Bertholdt, almost longing now that Annie would go home and allow the two to be alone together. But instead Reiner found Bertholdt being knocked off his lap, his boyfriend almost crashing into the coffee table.
"Fuck it, you two!" Annie hissed, clearly pissed at their antics. "I don't care if you have Bertl in my way, I'll beat you up!"
"You'll pay for that, Annie!" Reiner growled, suddenly finding himself in fisticuffs with Annie, who was president of the parkour club. She was tough as nails and she would take him down.
The film forgotten, Bertholdt crawled behind the couch, watching with slightly terror-filled eyes as Reiner tried to trip up Annie. She was too fast for that, though, and nearly kicked a leg out from under him. He almost went falling into the coffee table, but managed to recover. Annie knew the layout of their apartment as well as they did, so there was no surprising her.
"Don't break anything! Reiner, don't break the furniture. Annie, don't break Reiner!" Bertholdt cried from behind the couch.
"I'll… try not to!" Reiner exclaimed through his grit teeth as he dodged a punch from Annie. Too late he realized that had been a feint, her hand was coming up and her leg was poised to kick—
The world went spinning for a brief moment before he crashed into the floor with a horrendously loud noise. He spent a few seconds sprawled on the floor, certain that Ymir, their downstairs neighbor, would give him shit when they went drinking tomorrow. More than that, he needed to recover his bearings. He'd been dealt some hard blows in football (what Americans called 'soccer') matches, but nothing compared to getting his ass whooped by Annie.
She stood over him, her blue eyes blazing. "You two are nothing but trouble. Ever since you and Bertl got together, I've had to watch you snog. Cuddling is okay, but watching you stick your tongues down each other's throats?"
Bertholdt let out a small indignation from his hiding spot behind the couch.
"You're okay, Bertl, it's mostly Reiner who instigates it," Annie continued, before offering a hand to Reiner, still sprawled on the floor. He took her hand gratefully, his body aching as he sank back onto the couch.
Before Bertholdt could take his seat next to Reiner, Annie sat down in his spot; her message was clear. She wanted to watch the movie in her friends' company. Resigned, Bertholdt sat on the other side, giving Reiner shy glances that made his heart flutter ever so slightly. Annie lifted an elbow as a clear warning: I will elbow you if you're sneaky.
It was impossible to resist the urge to cuddle with Bertholdt as a sweat broke out on his boyfriend's olive skin and his face scrunched up with nervous concern. Reiner reached behind Annie, just to put a hand on Bertholdt's cheek, but no sooner had he lifted his arms that Annie speared him in the ribs with her elbow.
"Damn you!" Reiner hissed, feigning anger. He could understand Annie's annoyance well enough, though. She had the tendency to be a loner, especially when around their other friends. It was only with Bertholdt and Reiner that she was the Anne that they knew, from their years together in the Saarland. And perhaps, when Reiner and Bertholdt were making out on the couch, that isolation that she felt around others came back in full force.
He resolved to not make any more moves until the film was over, at which point Bertholdt was covered in nervous sweat. Horror movies were not particularly good for him, Reiner thought. Neither is wearing that baggy hoodie, Reiner added deviously.
"This was a good one," Annie remarked as she packed the DVD back into her messenger bag.
"It was a sort of… psychological scary," Bertholdt replied, still shaking slightly. "Like… that last shot, of the car being towed out of the swamp, and you know what they'll find in the trunk…" Bertholdt shivered involuntarily.
"Better than Saw Six," Reiner retorted as he pulled Bertholdt into his arms. "Next movie night, pick a foreign movie?"
"Preferably one in German?" Bertholdt added hopefully.
"Then it's not really foreign, is it, Bertl?" Annie replied, raising an eyebrow. "I suppose the lovebirds want me to leave their nest now. Go make your bed warm."
Reiner could feel his cheeks growing hot; he glanced at Bertholdt, who was a similar shade of scarlet. In a surprising act of courage, Bertholdt transfixed Annie with a slightly nervous stare and said: "How do you know we only do it in the bed?"
Annie shook her head as she slung her bag over her shoulders. "Honestly, guys, I really don't want to know. As long as it's not in my throne. Good night. Great food as always, Bertl. There's a reason I still come over."
After the door shut in her wake, Bertholdt went to lock the door. Reiner stood up from the couch, stretching his back. It would be even stiffer in the morning, but Reiner didn't mind that at all. With a slightly mischievous grin on his face, Reiner moved to pull off that goddamned baggy purple hoodie.