Chapter Text
“Eren, you lying little shit! You said I would be paired with Connie!”
Standing in the center of his dorm room, with his schedule clutched in one of his hands (the paper held his classes, along with the room number of his dorm, and who he would be sharing it with), Reiner has his mouth curled back in an angry grimace as he holds his cell to his ear. He can hear Eren snicker a little bit, and it makes him crumble his schedule in his fist with escalated irritation.
“Hey, I would much rather bunk with Armin than that kid. Sorry, Reiner, I'm taking the risk of inflicting damage on our friendship,” Eren casually retorts, brushing off Reiner's clear agitation. Reiner huffs, and then lets out a deep exhale, expelling the overwhelming weight of irritation he currently holds for the other man.
“Look. I am not fucking around, Eren. If you don't switch back with me, I'm going to tell Jean every class you go to, what day, and what time. Including your dorm room number," Reiner threatens, though the weight behind these words fall flat. It's an empty threat, because they both know Jean, at worst, would lash out at Reiner, demanding to know what the fuck he would even do with "that bastard's" information, why he thinks he would give a shit. That being said, Reiner truly hated having to deal with sharing rooms with a complete stranger, especially seeing as the majority of his freshman year were people he knew. And out of all of them, he was stuck with a new student.
“Don't you dare, Reiner! Why not just give the guy a chance? He may be an okay roommate! Sheesh," Eren says, undoubtedly attempting to save his own ass. Reiner can't say he's surprised that Eren hung up. With a sigh, he slides his phone back into his jean's pocket and then smooths out his schedule to reread his roommate's name.
Bertholdt, eh?
He stares at his name as he contemplates it. Maybe he could give it a try, meeting the guy. Maybe Eren was right. Maybe he should give him a chance. If Bertholdt turns out to be intolerable, Reiner would have to convince Eren somehow. Or just talk to the RA. That, too.
Reiner folds his schedule and puts it in his pocket alongside his phone, before he grabs his duffel bag off his floor, and lets it fall onto his bed. Then he yanks it open to begin pulling his things out. First, he'll put his clothes away.
After ten minutes of folding pants and hanging up shirts, he hears the door open. Glancing over, he finds a shockingly tall boy, with a demure expression and a backpack slung over a shoulder. Reiner looks at him, taking note of his dark hair that parted in three ways, his skinny jeans with a long sleeved t-shirt that had an album cover for some band on the front. He looked really... Perspired. And nervous.
“Hey,” Reiner simply greets, returns to stacking his jeans in his dresser. He barely hears a mumbled greeting. It was a simple, shy 'hello' that Reiner had to pause to process. Raising his honey colored eyes to him again, Reiner notices him lingering at the door, face uneasy.
“Plenty of room in here, I assure you," Reiner jokes, giving him a small smirk, and then returns to his duffel bag to pull out his various personal items that he bothered to bring with him to Uni. Just some books, and his laptop. Really will feel like prison at this point. Nothing personal, nothing to show character. Or, no, not prison--Boot camp. That seems more fitting.
Bertholdt, presumably, doesn't reply, only paces into the room after quietly shutting the door behind himself. Already, Reiner has an impression of him. That he will be a trouble-free, probably-non-existent roommate. Reiner is relieved, but also a little disappointed. He was hoping for a more... He doesn't know. A more 'open' partner, he muses. Someone that wouldn't be so inside their own shell that it would make things awkward. He assumes Bertholdt is the type that makes things awkward. Well, he'll have to see, then.
They unpack in silence. Reiner had a head start, so he finishes after organizing his things on his own desk. After setting his bag on the floor beside the dresser, he turns and looks about the room with a sigh. Bertholdt is on the opposite side, by his bed, looking through his own bag, back facing Reiner. There really is not much life to this room. It's small, cramped, especially for men of their size, evidently. The other guy is a fucking giant.
He stares at Bertholdt's broad back. Would it be considered rude to just leave him here to go hang around with his friends? Wouldn't that seem... Like a dick move? Reiner wouldn't want to have a bad impression on the kid, so he speaks up.
“I'm Reiner, by the way. You probably saw on your schedule, though. Just thought it would be proper to introduce myself, rather than a paper,” he says with confidence, pulling up and down on the zipper to his thin grey jacket. Bertholdt glances at him, turning his way a little bit, with a book in his hands. His eyebrows are raised, his expression no longer hesitant.
“Oh," he says, looking down to the book in his hands, “I'm Bertholdt.”
Reiner gives him a forced grin when his olive green eyes are drawn to him once more. “Well, then, Bertholdt, hope you don't find me as too much of a prick," Reiner says, crossing his arms.
Bertholdt lightly smiles, eyes resting on Reiner, “I doubt I will find you that way at all.” Reiner gives a genuine laugh, and nods, “Cool, that's good. So, uh, I'll let you get back to your unpacking. Hope you don't mind me leaving you here with the horrid wall paint.” He turns to approach the door, eager to escape. Bertholdt mumbles something, and Reiner only gives him a brief look whilst opening the door. He contemplates asking him to repeat himself, decides he doesn't care enough, and spits out a quick 'see ya' before striding out. He shuts the door gently behind him before he begins down the hallway, towards the room number that he knows is Eren's.
“So, how'd it go?”
Loitering in the lounge area with the others, Reiner lazes in one of the couches, and watches as Sasha and Connie battle it out through table tennis. Eren, Armin, Jean, and Marco are sitting around with him. Jean was staring at the sports channel playing on the flat screen, while Marco was reading a book, feet drawn up onto the couch so his knees were raised by his freckled face. Sometimes, Reiner wonders how he manages to keep track of the page he's on with one hand. Whenever Reiner tries to turn a page with a single hand, the book flips out on him and slips away. Somehow.
“Hnn?” Reiner produces unhelpfully, turning his gaze from Marco to Eren, quirking one of his thin eyebrows.
“Your roommate? How'd he turn out?” Eren repeats, brow furrowing.
“Oh. Yeah, he seems alright,” Reiner says over the loud conversation of some other few college freshman sitting at the table a few feet away. Eren seems amused.
“Really? So you're not going to bite my ass over switching rooms?”
Reiner gives a nod and returns his attention to the boring sports channel. It was on soccer, so Reiner didn't really care for it.
Eren gives a light laugh, “Sweet... You not going to give Jean my classes, right?”
“I don't even want to know your classes, Jaeger," Jean calls from the other side of the wide sofa, boredom infecting his tone. Eren snaps at him to shut it, and Jean retorts saying that he was an angry little dwarf that should go back to his dwarf cave. Eren growls and stands, but Armin and Marco protest to it, Marco more verbally than Armin. Reiner sighs and drops his head back into the cushion of the couch. He's feeling tired. Maybe he should go back to his room and nap.
It had been about four days since the beginning of the semester, and he was already exhausted from trying to figure everything out. He was still processing he was in college now. Shit, he actually has to be responsible, with adult responsibilities. That sucked.
With a groan, he sits up and pushes from the couch, ultimately separating the view between Jean and Eren. He declares, “Well, I'm heading back to my room. Catch you guys later.” He hears Marco pipe out a good-bye, and to have a nice evening and all that like he usually does, and Reiner appreciates it. Eren mumbles a good-bye as well.
“You too”, he says over his shoulder before leaving the area to shove out the door.
When he returns to the room, he finds Bertholdt on his bed, laying back with a book raised above his head, dark hair drawn out across his pillow. He's already in his pyjamas. Well, isn't that just adorable. Reiner greets him as he shuts the door behind himself.
“Hey,” Bertholdt says quietly in return, certainly more focused on his book. Reiner smiles lightly as he removes his leather coat, before draping it over the back of his chair to his desk. “What'cha been up to, Bertholdt?” he muses as he plops down on his bed, leaning over to remove his boots.
“Reading.”
“What?”
“Reading.”
“No, I mean like, what are you reading?”
“Oh. Uh, just a book for my lit class.”
Reiner hums as he yanks off his last boot, before tossing it aside like his previous abused shoe. Then he begins to change into his own sleepwear. Which was simply sweat pants and a white tank top. He refused to call it 'wife beater'. Who even decided to call it that?
He takes a heavy seat on his bed with a sigh and looks over at his roommate again. Bertholdt's eyes are drawn up to his book. His elbows are resting on the bed, book raised.
“Hey, what classes do you take anyways?” Reiner asks, resting against the wall beside his bed, arms draped lazily in his lap. Bertholdt's eyes avert to him. Then he says, “Interpreting Literature, Honors English, European history, uh and Calculus.”
Reiner hums. “So you planning on doing something regarding literature?” Bertholdt shrugs, lifting his gaze back to his book. After a moment, he sets his book on his chest, leaving it open. He is quiet for a moment before saying, “I've considered being an author, but the interest left me after tenth grade... I guess just wherever I land, I hope that I'll be satisfied with it.”
He doesn't know what to say, so he just hums. For some reason, he finds himself wanting to learn more about him. Maybe Bertholdt is one of those people where you have to let them grow comfortable with you before they're more themselves. Bertholdt glances at him then, earning Reiner's attention once more.
“Reiner... Where are you from? Your name... Sounds Germanic. S-Sorry if that's too personal...”
Reiner gives a light grin, and nods a little bit, “Yeah, I'm from Germany.”
“Which city?”
“I was born in Meissen, northwest to Dresden, but lived in Berlin. Well. Until I was about six, then moved to America with my family,” Reiner says, raising his gaze to the ceiling as he thinks about it. He can remember Berlin a little bit, but not so much his hometown. He was about to ask the same of Bertholdt, but he speaks out before he could.
“So... Do you speak German?”
“Not as fluently as I used to. My family doesn't really bother to speak German anymore. Only during family holidays, I suppose," Reiner blabbers, and then laughs a little bit. Bertholdt is quiet momentarily, so Reiner asks, “What about you? Where you from?”
“I was born into a German family, thus my name, but I haven't lived in Germany. I want to visit though.”
“Oh, I see,” Reiner says, and then that's that. Bertholdt merely nods and returns to his book. That was a little painful. Wincing, Reiner stares up at the ceiling as he fiddles with his fingers in his lap, before he feels a vibration from his phone by his side. He grabs his phone and opens the text.
It read: “From Baldy: kicked Sasha's ass in table tennis. She's sobbing in the corner now” Reiner snorts and replies with few swipes of his thumb, “don't be a dick, say she put up a good fight or s/t” Following him sending it, he receives a separate text.
“From Sasha: connie's bald head was blinding when light reflected off it. he was using it to his advantage. that's all. and no, i'm not sobbing” Reiner laughs at that, and shakes his head. Bertholdt is looking over at him, he can tell by the pause of the pages turning. Oh, that reminds him. He's been meaning to ask.
“Hey, Bertholdt, do you have a phone? Give me your number so I can text you during class and get you in trouble," he calls as he swipes out a reply for Sasha. Bertholdt says in a soft voice, “Yeah, sure..."
The first text Reiner sends Bertholdt is the next day during his break between classes. And during Bertholdt's break, as well. Reiner was able to sneak a peek at Bertholdt's schedule when the paper was innocently resting on his roommate's desk, and may have taken a picture of it, so now he knows when he can harass him.
“what's up? I'm already dead from class, so don't expect me to show up at the room. also I should have a nickname for you. I have nicknames for all my friends, pretty much. Haha” Reiner manages a weak smile as he sends it, and then trudges closer to the Starbucks on campus, hoping for a coffee to warm him up. Sometimes, he hated late fall, and sometimes he liked it. He liked it cause of the typical crunching of the leaves under his feet, and hated it because cold. Just cold is all the reason he needs. Soon, he's given a reply.
“Hi, Reiner. And okay, I'll keep a look out for your corpse, then... I don't mind what you make up. call me whatever you want."
Reiner snickers to himself after reading the text, pulling open the door to the warm interior of the Starbucks, soon to join the line.
“let me know if i look hot as a corpse or not. how about Bertl?”
Bertholdt takes less time to reply.
“How would I let you know if you're already dead? And that sounds fine, Rei Rei.”
Reiner is mildly surprised to find that Bertholdt is more confident and sarcastic when its not face to face. Reiner laughs aloud at the dumb nickname, earning a brief glance from the person in front of him.
“you just dug up unpleasant memories of a girlfriend back in eighth grade. I had a full-body shudder just then”
“see you back at the room, Reiner. hopefully not as a corpse.” is the response he's given only a minute later, and it makes Reiner smile a little bit. He notices he's second in line when he begins to put his phone away. An idea comes to mind. Hurriedly, he begins to type out a new text.
“can't get rid of me that easily. what's your coffee?”
Bertholdt takes a moment to reply, and Reiner stresses over if he'll answer in time before he's next.
“Don't laugh, but caramel frappuccino. Please don't ask if i'm a hipster high school girl”
“oh don't worry, I never doubted it!” Reiner types back just as he's up. The cashier asks what he would like as he grins and slips his phone in his pocket. Bertholdt is so going to be spoiled with caramel frappuccinos this year.