“Why are you up this early anyway?” Bertholdt pressed. The dog was now bobbing up and down around his feet excitedly. “You usually sleep in on Saturdays.”
“Well, yeah, but...” Reiner rubbed the back of his neck, watching Tiffany's hind legs bow out as she continued her dance around Bertholdt's feet. He smiled gently. “It's her birthday.”
Sooooooo I wanted to write a thing for attack-on-germs for her birthday! And since Reibert is my default (and you didn’t specify a ship) I figured I’d write a birthday themed Reibert thing. So here is the two bara dorks and their wittle corgi, Tiffany. Happy birthday, darling! :)
Waking up had always been rough for Bertholdt. Perhaps it was because of the strange positions he always discovered himself in. Or perhaps because he woke up at 5:30 every morning, on the dot, regardless of the day or how hard he tried to sleep in. Waking up had become the one part of the day that he absolutely and abhorrently dreads. The only thing that could make this time of day the smallest bit easier was rolling over (or crawling over, turning around, untangling) and sleepily observing the soft rise and fall of Reiner's chest. Hearing the huffs of air leave his boyfriend's mouth after he takes long, slow breaths, in a deep slumber that Bertholdt knows he so desperately needs. Laying there next to Reiner, reveling in the quiet and the soft light of early morning, made waking up at such a horrendous hour much more bearable.
Except this morning, Reiner was gone. Bertholdt woke slowly, trying to force himself back into a deeper sleep, and failing miserably. Huffing a sigh of annoyance, he gently extricated himself from the blankets and sheets and began shifting so that his head was near the headboard again. It took a few moments to notice that the weight he normally felt on the mattress next to him was gone. The bathroom light was off. The dog bed by the window was empty. His brow knit in confusion for a moment before he heard a small clatter coming from the kitchen, followed by a hiss and curse that was unmistakably Reiner. He made his way to the doorway of the kitchen, crossing his arms as he watched the blond fiddle with something on the counter.
“Reiner.”
A stainless steel bowl dropped to the laminate floor of the kitchen, echoing with a resounding metallic noise and sending their Welsh corgi, Tiffany, scurrying under the table for cover.
“Babe!” Reiner spun on his heel, a terrified look in his sleepy golden eyes. “I, uh...kinda thought you'd be asleep longer?”
Bertholdt's eyes narrowed. He uncrossed his arms, tossing his hands his hands out in exasperation.“I wake up at the same time every morning, Reiner. You've known me for how long?”
Tiffany bounced over to him, breathing heavily and hoping he had treats for her. Reiner glanced nervously at the digital clock on the stove. “Oh. Right. I, uh...I thought I had gotten up earlier than I actually did. My bad.”
“Why are you up this early anyway?” Bertholdt pressed. The dog was now bobbing up and down around his feet excitedly. “You usually sleep in on Saturdays.”
“Well, yeah, but...” Reiner rubbed the back of his neck, watching Tiffany's hind legs bow out as she continued her dance around Bertholdt's feet. He smiled gently. “It's her birthday.”
“What?” Bertholdt's eyebrows cinched again as he tried to process Reiner's words.
“Well, sort of. Not really. But it is now.”
“Reiner, what are you-”
“We adopted her on year ago, Bertl! Remember?” Reiner dropped to his knees, arms open, welcoming Tiffany into an enthusiastic hug. Tiffany complied immediately, her stubby little legs flailing as she slipped and slid on the laminate floor. “After I closed the shop, you showed up and surprised me and we went back to the pet store and adopted her!” Reiner glanced up at Bertholdt with an almost pleading look in his eyes before wrapping the dog up in his muscled arms. “And she's still adorable as ever, aren't you, Pretty Girl? Yes yes yes, you are such a gorgeous girl!”
“Okay...” Bertholdt slowly took a few steps closer and lowered himself to his knees as well, not enjoying the cold sting of the floor against his skin this early. “That still doesn't exactly answer my question. Why are you up this early?”
The look Reiner shot him was so loaded with incredulity it could have made Stephen Hawking feel like an absolute idiot.“I have to make her a cake!”
“...”
Bertholdt stared at his boyfriend for a few seconds, letting the declaration process in his mind.
“Reiner, no.”
“Reiner, yes!” The biggest, dopiest grin Bertholdt had ever seen spread across Reiner's face in an instant. Reiner began talking excitedly with his hands, Tiffany bouncing between the two of them for affection. “Found this great recipe online, she's gonna love it! It's got peanut butter, and carrots, and honey, and...”
Reiner's face dropped as he stopped talking and watched Bertholdt scratch the dog's ears absentmindedly. “You think I'm nuts, don't you?”
Bertholdt grinned. “Yes. I absolutely think you're nuts. But you're always a little crazy.” He doubled over to ruffle Tiffany's coat and give her a tight squeeze. “I just don't know why you decided you needed to get up this early to make a doggie birthday cake.”
His hand on his neck once more, Reiner grinned sheepishly. “Kinda thought you might try to stop me if you found out what I was doing.”
Bertholdt giggled into Tiffany's fur before straightening himself and placing his hands on his knees. “You know, sometimes I think you love this dog more than you love me.” Tiffany trotted back over to Reiner and flopped over so he could rub her belly. Bertholdt smiled.“She makes you really happy, though. And if making her a birthday cake means that I get to see your big goofy smile all day, then so be it. I'll even sing to her if you want me to.”
The dopey grin returned to Reiner's face in an instant. “Really?”
“Really.” Bertholdt decided he would agree to nearly anything to see Reiner smile like that. Reiner continued grinning as he rubbed Tiffany's belly, finding her sweet spot and making her leg kick wildly. He looked up at Bertholdt, grin as wide as ever, but with a more playful twinkle in his eyes.
“Hey, Bertl?”
“Hmm?”
“That was a lot of sappy shit this early in the morning. Think I might overdose on all the sugar that just spewed out of your mouth.”
Bertholdt tried his best to glare up at his boyfriend, which was admittedly difficult between his lack of caffeine and the cute scene before him.
“Reiner, you woke up at 5:30 in the morning to make a dog a birthday cake. I don't think you get to tease me about being sappy.”
“...touche.”
