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Reiner slid onto the mess hall bench, stretching his left wrist. Bertholdt, sitting across from him, watched curiously as he poked at his food.
“You good?”
“Now I am. Christa’s a real saint,” Reiner replied with a smile, starting to dig into his own dinner with his newly healed hand. “Patched me right up.”
“You didn’t intentionally get injured again just so that she’d help, did you?” Bertholdt asked somewhat accusingly, loosely holding his fork. Reiner’s crush on Christa was no secret to him. No secret at all.
Reiner smirked. “And what if I did?”
Bertholdt failed to suppress a groan, but quickly followed it with a light laugh. “Such a ladies man.”
“You know me, I’d never pass up on the opportunity to listen to Christa’s angelic scolding voice. And she’s exactly my type.”
“God,” Bertholdt muttered, yet to be used to his best friend’s antics.
“And, uh, what about you?” Reiner asked awkwardly— which was unusual for him. Bertholdt looked up at him from his food with a raised brow, unsure of what he meant. “Like, are you a ladies man? Or a… man man?” Reiner visibly cringed at himself, aware that there was no worse way to have asked that question.
However it was his lucky day, as Bertholdt appeared to understand, and seemed unfazed by his wording. “Uh, I don’t really know. Both, I guess.”
“Oh, so you’re a people man.” Silence. “I really don’t know why I’m continuing with this bit.”
Bertholdt laughed at that, and Reiner suddenly became grateful that he prolonged the awkward conversation. It wasn’t often that Bertholdt laughed, especially in the public of the mess hall, and it made his heart skip a beat.
Wait . No it didn’t. Reiner did not like Bertholdt like that. Not anymore. He liked Christa. Yes. That was the truth— a truth that he had to repeat to himself multiple times a day.
His plan was going great. It was simple, really. As soon as Reiner recognized the fact that he was beginning to develop… feelings, one could say, for his best friend and right-hand-man, he knew he would have to change things.
He put up a front and decided the best way to get over Bertholdt was to fall in love with his polar opposite. Well, physically his polar opposite. It was the perfect plan! Bertholdt was tall and dark-haired, Christa was short and blonde. The more Reiner referred to her as his type, the less of a chance Bertholdt would ever realize his feelings for him! Which was definitely, one-hundred-percent, exactly what he wanted!
The second step to his plan, after ensuring Bertholdt never found out about his feelings, was to like Christa. His goal was to move on, after all. Step Two should have been easy, but Reiner had yet to be successful. Honestly, Christa was great— adorable, kind, the works. In an attempt to like her the way he knew he should, Reiner frequently would lay awake at night, imagining them holding hands and going on cheesy picnics. And when her face would(inevitably) start to look a little more like a certain other cadet, he would scream in his mind until the image of him faded. And then during ODM training, Reiner would purposefully roll his wrists and ankles so that Christa would tend to his wounds, and he would force away the thoughts that wished she was Bertholdt.
“Why do you ask?” The question suddenly tore Reiner from his mind.
“Huh?”
“About… about who I’m into.”
“Oh.” Reiner inhaled deeply. “I just thought we’ve known each other so long… and have never really talked about it. I was just wondering.”
“You, um, you don’t think it’s-?“
“No, no!” Reiner cut him off, anticipating what Bertholdt was going to say. “I don’t think it’s weird or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Some color seemed to return to his best friend’s face. “Uh, I actually think I’m the same.”
“A people man?”
Reiner snorted, and they both laughed. “Yeah. Something like that.”
That night, Bertholdt stared at the wooden boards of the bunk above his, wishing Reiner would spare him a fraction of the affection he gave Christa.
***
Bertholdt didn’t have a plan, all he had was information. He knew he liked Reiner, and he knew Reiner liked Christa. Of course he did, he just wouldn’t stop talking about her. Like at all. It was starting to get a little weird.
The day after their odd “people man” talk, Bertholdt found himself walking with Reiner to the barracks after training. The sun was setting, and it cast a pleasant warm overlay on their surroundings. Evenings were much more enjoyable here than at home.
“-I might do some more training after we eat. It’s nice and cool out tonight,” Reiner thought aloud, stretching out his shoulder. He added, somewhat quickly, “Maybe Christa’ll be there too.” Bertholdt watched him carefully, trying to be subtle by not letting his eyes linger too long on the curves of his arms and back. Thankfully, he seemed to succeed, or at least Reiner didn’t notice his staring.
Bertholdt didn’t have a plan. Honestly, he didn’t want to get over Reiner— definitely not yet. While most of the time he was embarrassed over having a heart that frequently raced or hands that easily got clammy(not usual for a warrior), when it came to Reiner he sort of… liked the feeling. It was like the way he heard some of the girls talk about crushes in passing— like butterflies.
Except he loved even more the moments when things just felt right and peaceful. He barely got any of those moments in general, especially back at home, so when he was graced with the luxury of alone time with Reiner he took full advantage of it. Meaning he allowed himself to feel happy, sometimes. Even if he knew he didn’t deserve it.
Bertholdt glanced at the dirt below him and kicked a small rock. It bounced twice before rolling to a stop. He continued to kick the rock down the path to the barracks as Reiner rambled in circles about Christa. He only half-listened.
“She’s great. A goddess. So pretty, and blonde, and exactly my type. Oh, and short. And blonde. I hope I can marry her.” Bertholdt nodded subconsciously, mind elsewhere. Would Reiner ever compliment him like that? He wasn’t blond or short so the thought seemed unlikely, but he let himself toy with it in his head anyway.
The two of them walked past Annie along the path. For a second, Bertholdt felt eyes on him, but when he glanced back to look at her she was already walking away. He turned his attention back to Reiner’s mindless rambling, which seemed to be the same five keywords repeated over and over. Bertholdt assumed he liked her so much he could barely think; that seemed appropriate for his best friend.
That night, Reiner groaned into his pillow, wishing he had spared the time to talk a little more about Bertholdt amidst his panic at seeing him under the setting sun.
***
“You’re an idiot, Reiner.”
“Huh?”
Insults from Annie were not uncommon in the 104th. But being pulled aside from breakfast to be told something she’d usually say with no hesitation in front of everyone? That was weird.
Annie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. Reiner only watched, confused. Had he missed something?
“I didn’t want to get involved in whatever-“ she waved her hand condescendingly. “-the hell is going on between you and Bertholdt. But I can’t just stand by and watch you fucking torture him anymore.”
“Huh?” Reiner repeated. What’s “going on” between them? “ Torture ”?
Annie finally pried her face away from her hand and glared up at him. “Drop the damn Christa act. When I walked by you two yesterday, he looked one second away from fucking sobbing . It’s getting pretty annoying to see all the time.”
Reiner stayed silent, wide-mouthed and staring. Sobbing? He had purposefully avoided looking at Bertholdt, for fear of dropping his guard. The setting sun had done nothing but wonders to him, and it had been starting to make Reiner’s plan crumble. He cursed himself internally for being too selfish to notice the state his best friend was in. But that couldn’t have been because he was talking about Christa, right? Right?
Annie continued, talking much more than she normally would, “I can’t believe he hasn’t caught on yet. You must’ve really convinced him, somehow.”
Finally, Reiner spluttered, barely above a whisper, “I don’t- I don’t like Bertholdt!”
“Sure. Why don’t you use the determination that got us into these damn walls and tell him the fucking truth .” With that, Annie pushed past Reiner, knocking her shoulder into him, even though she was much shorter.
Reiner only stared after her for a moment, before inhaling deeply. Annie was right. His plan wasn’t going great— all he had managed to do was give himself permanently sore ankles and hurt his best friend, the one whom he was trying so desperately not to hurt . As much as he hated the idea, the jig was up.
He had to come clean.
He made his way back to the mess hall. Once he spotted his best friend, sitting silently at the end of a bench, he called, “Bertholdt! We need to talk. Like, now.” At this point many heads had turned to look at them, so to spare Bertholdt any agony, Reiner quickly grabbed his wrist and pulled him outside.
Unfortunately, by the time the cool air grazed his skin, all of his newfound confidence was utterly gone.
“What’s up?” Bertholdt asked hesitantly, clearly noticing the conflict in Reiner’s expression. He watched him carefully.
Reiner shifted his weight from one foot to another, before opening his mouth to speak, shutting it, and opening it again. “Listen- look, I… I’ve been lying to you, and I'm so sorry.”
“What?”
“I don’t like Christa.” Bertholdt’s brows furrowed in confusion and he tilted his head slightly, lips parting to reply. Reiner continued before he could. “Well, not like that at least. I thought I should like her, so I called her my type and all that to convince myself. And, well… you.” He paused, and when Bertholdt didn’t say anything, he swallowed thickly. It was too late to turn back. “Because I’m in love with you, Bertholdt.”
A heavy silence fell between them. He couldn’t read Bertholdt’s expression. Reiner’s heart raced loudly in his chest, and- were his hands shaking? He hadn’t planned to say that he loved him. But he wanted to be honest, and it was the truth. “I’m sorry, I know it’s-“
“Are you fucking with me right now?” Bertholdt cut him off, stepping forward. Reiner jolted back in surprise, having barely seen this side of his best friend.
“What? No, of course not! I mean- I just-“ Reiner stammered, completely unsure of how to respond. Shit, did he mess up? Did Annie set him up? Did Bertholdt think he was weird, or a manipulative liar, a shitty excuse for a best friend? Did he-
Bertholdt crashed into Reiner, taking him by total surprise, and tightly wrapped his arms around him. Reiner tensed but quickly relaxed, eventually finding the strength within him to hug him back. He felt Bertholdt’s body tremble against him and it took him a moment to realize— he was laughing.
“Geez, Reiner,” Bertholdt muttered into his shoulder, calming down from his laughter. “You had me scared there. I thought someone set you up to this.”
“No way. I just decided I needed to be honest with you,” Reiner replied, grinning widely, choosing to omit Annie’s influence. He could be honest and leave some stuff out, right? “So does this mean, you, uh-“
“ Yes, obviously. I’m in love with you, too. And I have been for a pretty long time.”
Reiner managed to smile even wider.
That night, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, wishing they could stay that way forever.