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“Stop. Moving!” Historia hissed for what was at least the fifth time in the course of the last hour. Bertholdt watched with bemusement as the tiny blond was straddling his boyfriend’s hips, whom was unwillingly ordered to lay down on their friends’ couch, so the self-taught make-up artist could finish the rainbow, well, painting, he guessed, on his eyelids.
“Why are you taking so long? You didn’t take this long with Bertholdt!” Reiner complained, voice evidently impatient. Bertholdt winced in sympathy – The blond had never liked sitting still and doing nothing, so this was definitely trying for him. He could tell from the way he’s been squirming in his seat and flailing his arms around every two minutes, that it was only a matter of time before he pushed Historia off him and settled for an unfinished look, just because he grew frustrated with how “slow” she was working on him.
“The Pan flag has three colors in it – yours definitely doesn’t.” Historia huffed in annoyance before she turned on her side, rummaging through her supplies purse (She had at least three sat on the coffee table and Bertholdt knew she had even more somewhere else) She breathed a weak ‘aha’ when she retrieved some bottle filled with a transparent water-like liquid in it. She started dabbing some of it on a round cotton pad before she bent down to take off some yellow eyeshadow off the corner of Reiner's left eye. “Plus, he wasn’t as twitchy as you’ve been – oh, my god! You’re doing it again. Stop twitching your eyes!”
“You’re stabbing my eyeballs with that cotton – it hurts.”
“I’m not stabbing it. Have you always been this dramatic?” Historia rolled her eyes at him in understandable exasperation. She absent-mindedly tucked a stray golden lock that fell on Reiner’s face, the latter grimacing in response but managing to not move as much as he probably wanted to, before she turned to look at Bertholdt “Has he always been this dramatic?”
“Reiner is a drama queen. I’m surprised it took you this long to notice.” Bertholdt deadpanned, fighting the urge to laugh at Reiner’s aghast expression.
“You can’t side with her to bully me – You're my boyfriend! You automatically always take my side.”
“The fact that you called her being rightfully annoyed because you’ve been giving her hell for the last hour or so ‘bullying’, only further proves my point. You’re slipping, babe.”
“I would’ve been done way earlier if I just drew a fucking rainbow with Gabi’s crayons. This is wasted time when I should be out there.” Reiner grumbled instead, choosing to ignore Bertholdt’s retort. That just meant that he won that argument. Bertholdt 100, Reiner 0.
“I wouldn’t have let you.” Bertholdt shrugged, dead serious.
“You’ll thank me later when it turns out as 'fucking gorgeous' as you wanted it to be when you first showed me that Instagrammer’s pride make-up look. That is if you stop moving about and let me do my fucking job.” Bertholdt always felt thrown-off whenever he heard Historia raise her voice or when it took such a commanding tone to it. Clearly, Reiner felt the same, what with the way his hands fell slack to his sides. He sighed softly, resigned to his fate.
“Good.” Historia’s face broke into that sweet, charming smile of hers again. She looked genuinely pleased that she could finally work without interruptions.
Bertholdt shook his head in amusement at the two in front of him before he got back to the book that was securely nestled in his lap. The two’s bickering was a very appreciated break from his dull, but unfortunately required for his homework, reading.
“No funny business, Reiner.” Ymir warned as soon as she emerged from the hallway, still in her bathrobe and sipping on her coffee. She had most likely just woken up, possibly because of how rowdy the two fair-skinned have been for the last hour.
“Yeah, we’re banging and this is actually our idea of foreplay.” Reiner retorted sarcastically.
“Don’t worry babe, he’s very much flaccid.” Historia provided absent-mindedly; brows furrowed together in concentration, as she meticulously put on some indigo and pink glitter in Reiner’s prominent cheekbones. Bertholdt couldn’t help a snort escaping his lips.
“Oh my god.” Reiner groaned embarrassingly, instinctively raising his arms to hide his flushing face in his palms. Historia, having anticipated his reaction, quickly grabbed his wrists before he messed up his make-up and they had to start over, for the third time. The sound of something clattering to the ground drew Historia’s attention from the flustered man underneath her.
“MY BRUSH!”
“Well, that’s not funny.” Ymir’s lips twitched in repulsion. She and Historia have been dating and living together for the last seven years but, it looked like, for some irrational reasons, she hadn’t been able to move past the fact that her girlfriend and Reiner dated for a year before that in high school. Reiner had confessed to Bertholdt how awkward and weird they have always been around each other during that time; him mostly forcing himself to be into her or basically, into girls, while Historia was, well, feeling obligated to maintain her reputation, by dating the most popular guy (jock) in their school, while also pretending she hadn’t been head over heels for her girlfriend of seven years now.
Bertholdt had found Ymir’s skeptical attitude incredulous yet, equally hilarious. It made her an easy target for Historia’s teasing.
He on the other hand didn’t feel a smidge of her doubt. Aside from the fact that Reiner was very much gay, like, the gayest of the gay dudes he had ever met in his life, he’s also very much in love with him. They both have been, for six years now, officially. Way before that without either of them realizing it then.
An involuntary, faintly melancholic, smile tugged at his lips as he reminisced over how much time they have wasted dancing around their feelings, before they eventually confessed how they could only ever love and spend the rest of their lives with each other. Bertholdt shook his head as if to brush off the sudden sorrow that overwhelmed him – It didn’t matter. They are both where they are today, together, as they were meant to be. It had all worked out in the end and he could only feel hopeful about the bright and many years ahead of them.
This was a celebration day. They were celebrating their love for each other, but also for their own selves. He couldn’t ruin it for them by being morose and ruminating on the past.
Bertholdt heedlessly watched as Historia tried to put back the broken pieces of her pink brush.
“These actually cost me fifty dollars.” Historia whined before she gave up fixing her tool. She placed it back inside her purse before she rummaged for another, black one.
“Are you sure they weren’t worth two dollars from Ali Express? They literally snapped in two falling less than three feet from your hand.” Reiner arched an eyebrow skeptically.
“Funny enough – Some customers have been saying the same on the internet.”
Bertholdt was going to ask his friend whether or not she and the other customers whom had had similar incidents could be refunded, before his attention was brought back to Ymir when she perched herself up on the armrest of the armchair in which he was comfortably seated.
“You’re not going this year to the parade either, aren’t you?” Bertholdt sighed heavily as he took in again her ruffled bed hair and lax demeanor.
“Nope.”
“Still didn’t change your mind about pride?” Bertholdt asked tentatively, already knowing his friend’s answer.
“Nope and, not planning to.” Ymir replied, gaze fixed on her phone as she scrolled down mindlessly.
“Historia really wants you to be there with her.” Bertholdt argued, voice dropping to that of a whisper.
“Historia just needs a reason to put on make-up on you guys’ faces.” Ymir shrugged nonchalantly “It’s her excuse to get creative with wild looks.”
“Not true – She always looks down when she thinks no one’s looking. She wants to celebrate such a special day with you.” Bertholdt chanced a glimpse at the blond in question. She hasn’t heard his remark and even if she did, she was going a good job hiding it.
“Bertl, I’ve had this same discussion with my girlfriend at least once every year. She eventually gave up because she knew where I stand on the matter of Pride festivities – I don’t need to paint my face with a flag to be happy and proud of who I am. Although, I do admit there is a certain temptation to having my lips painted with the lesbian flag.” Ymir trailed for a while, as if she was momentarily pondering the fleeting thought of joining them.
Ymir shook her head dismissively and Bertholdt felt his stomach drop. No chance then.
“Case in point – I don’t need to wear the lesbian flag on my face or as a cape for people to know I’m gay. Reiner doesn’t know need to have a fucking rainbow on his eyes for people to know he’s not straight. Everything about that guy screams ‘gay’.”
“That guy’s also in the room.” Reiner added, voice laced with unadulterated annoyance. Bertholdt watched from the periphery of his view as Ymir flipped the brawny off.
“I look very straight, but I’m far from being one.” Bertholdt cocked an eyebrow at the freckled brunette, daring her to argue with him. He felt bitter satisfaction when she had the decency to at least look contrite.
“I’m not even sure how I’m supposed to look bi either.” Historia supplied from her spot before she leant back to observe the fruit of her efforts.
“What I’m trying to say – Pride marches are not about visibility.”
“They’re not?” Ymir snorted before she took another sip from her beverage.
“I mean – it's not only about visibility. It’s a day for celebration of everyone’s sacrifices for us that got us where we are – Where we don’t have to hide because of the way we were born. The name already entails it but, we get to be proud and love ourselves for who we are.”
“I am proud, every single day, ever since I knew I was gay and I will feel that way for the rest of my life.”
“So are we. And so, we will be. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?”
“Because it doesn’t represent me, and it sure as hell doesn’t represent everyone. It’s not as inclusive as the community claims it to be. Think about it, just remember how actually Pride is made for the sake of men – gay men, with the dildos and the penises and the almost nudity, because, being queer is apparently just about sex. They balance that with some lesbians on the side, a stray trans and an intersex in the middle and claim it’s a fucking celebration of everyone. It’s not – not everyone is welcome. Not everyone is included and I won’t vouch for that. Not until they consider the flaws in their beliefs that they accept everyone, while it’s just about who they decide to welcome in the community because it benefits them to represent only certain sexualities.” Ymir explained thoroughly, her mouth set in a hard line “There’s no Pride for me if asexuals aren’t welcomed. There’s no pride if Trans and nonbinary people aren’t properly represented.” Ymir concurred with an undisputable finality.
Bertholdt suddenly realized the tense silence that settled in the room.
Nobody could argue with Ymir’s statement because, they knew despite it being harsh, it was also the truth.
Still.
“I know that the majority thinks that the parade is just a party to dance and sing and be as extravagant and flamboyant as they could get to be, and even though there’s nothing wrong with that, the march hasn’t lost its political value. Not yet. We march because we want to be seen and because those minorities you mentioned, and many others, need to be heard and known. If everyone stopped marching, how else are those same people supposed to reach out and voice their thoughts and vindicate their rights? If we gave up marching for our freedom and our rights to be, how else is our society supposed to realize that no, they still couldn’t pat themselves on the back for simply “allowing” us to be.” Bertholdt took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself and gather his thoughts before he started again “Yes, there’s nothing wrong about Pride being celebratory and a party. No, we shouldn’t give up on it just because it’s not perfect or good enough for everyone. We need to be there. We have to fight for what’s ours, by right and eventually by law. If we don’t, then there’s no one else who’s not us that would fight our battles.”
Bertholdt wished Historia and Reiner would’ve backed him up instead of staying quiet in their corner but, he had an inkling that whatever he said to Ymir, Historia had already shared with her. For obvious reasons, Reiner had allowed Bertholdt to hog the spotlight for himself, understanding that him being pansexual implied that people like him had slim to no representation at all.
A furtive glance at Ymir’s impassive expression made him realize that his zealous speech didn’t deter her from her unyielding conviction that she still shouldn’t march with them, no matter how valid his points were.
“Plus, I still think it would be fun if you came with us.” Bertholdt remarked softly and noted the way Ymir’s shoulders slouched in defeat.
“I know.” Ymir smiled sadly before she rose from her seat.
Ymir fidgeted from one foot to another, suddenly nervous. Her mouth opened but no sound came out of it. Bertholdt was on the verge to ask her what was on her mind before Historia’s squeal of joy made him tear his gaze away from the tall woman standing in front of him.
“Oh my god.” Historia breathed in awe “You look stunning.” Bertholdt watched as she clambered off his boyfriend’s lap before she reached for a mirror.
“Thanks.” Reiner rubbed at his neck in a nervous gesture, a pink hue dusting his pale cheeks. Bertholdt felt his heart soar when he saw the way his boyfriend’s face lit up in delight, obviously liking what he saw in the mirror.
Bertholdt couldn’t have agreed more – Reiner looked absolutely breathtaking.
“You look beautiful.” Bertholdt murmured, marveling at Historia’s sophisticated work. His pasty skin made the rainbow colors pop up even more and Bertholdt was mesmerized by the indigo and blue glitter, shimmering under the soft artificial lights. He had reprimanded Reiner for fawning (slobbering like Ymir would've indelicately put it, had she been there) over his sky blue and gold make-up, but he realized the hypocrisy of him doing the exact same thing.
“So do you.” Ah, typical Reiner. Always bad at accepting compliments from him when he enthusiastically welcomed those from others. The blond had once told him that he found it hard to grasp that someone that looked like a model, like Bertholdt apparently did, could find him “remotely handsome”. Bertholdt scoffed at both of his remarks.
He couldn’t resist bringing their lips together in a tender kiss, his hand moving of its own volition to cup his boyfriend’s face. His limb froze mid-air when Historia hissed at them “Don’t touch his face or the glitter will fall off!”
“I can’t believe you guys beat us to being the most nauseatingly in love couple.” Ymir observed cattily from her spot behind them, her voice not coming off as venomous as she probably wanted it to.
“Hush, leave them be.”
Bertholdt broke off their kiss reluctantly, abruptly feeling self-conscious and wishing they had more privacy.
“You’re keeping this on even when the day’s over.” Bertholdt instructed him playfully, even though he was very serious about his request.
He felt butterflies turning somersaults in his stomach when Reiner fucking giggled.
This man will be the death of him.
His fleeting thought was interrupted when Reiner’s phone buzzed. He hesitantly lowered his gaze down to retrieve his phone from his jeans’ pocket.
“Oh. Pieck and Annie are waiting for us to pick them up.”
“I’m kind of curious what Annie will wear. Snap a picture for me if she’s not wearing her gray hoodie.”
“Ymir, leave her alone.” Historia admonished in a firm tone as she checked the content of her backpack for the second time.
“So…” Reiner began, a dazzling smile quirking his lips upwards, making Bertholdt’s heart skip a beat “Shall we?” He pulled the front door open.
“After you.”
