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He had everything planned perfectly. Once Bertholdt left for work that afternoon (dropping a quick kiss on Reiner’s forehead before hurrying out the door), Reiner shot out of bed to start preparing. It wasn’t their first Valentine’s day, they’d been together for five years, but it was the first one they had while living under the same roof, and Reiner was going to do his damnedest to make it special. And yeah, while Reiner usually groaned and complained about stupid holidays that were just created for material consumption, Bertl seemed to at least enjoy Valentine’s day, or at least the concept of it. Which meant Reiner had to make sure that today was absolutely perfect.
First up on the list of things to do, was a quick trip to the grocery store. Well, it was supposed to be a quick trip; Reiner soon got distracted by the tank of live lobsters in the seafood section, and his idea for making lamb chops was thrown promptly out the window. The poor lobsters were kept in a disgusting tank, and it was obvious that at least one was dead or dying, and Reiner couldn’t let them stay like that. After a quick conversation with the seafood ‘specialist’, and a talk with the store manager, and an exchange of $250, Reiner was then the proud owner of thirty lobsters. He felt like he was on top of the world as he put the large crate of lobsters into his trunk, only to freeze when he met the beady eyes of one of the smaller lobsters. Today was not going as he had planned, and he couldn’t help but groan as he fished his phone out of his pocket.
“Ackerman Fish Emporium, how may I help you today?” The flat tone made Reiner sigh in relief, even as he rubbed his eyes in frustration. “Levi, man, it’s Reiner. Tell me, how do you take care of lobsters?” He asked, already imagining the annoyed look on his face that followed the scoff he had made. “Lobsters are fucking disgusting Reiner, don’t tell me you’re thinking about getting one as a pet.” Levi snapped, exasperated. Reiner groaned as he rubbed his face, looking at the box in his trunk that he was going to move into the back seat once he got off the phone.
“Haha, yeah, funny thing you should ask…” Reiner started with a nervous chuckle. There was a sigh from the other end, a grumbled “Why would you even…”, before Reiner continued. “Uh, well, y’know those lobster tanks at the Garrison?” Silence, which Reiner took as an indication to continue. “Uhm, well, there were so many in there Levi! I couldn’t just leave them! Those poor lobsters, stuck in there for the rest of their short, miserable lives…” Reiner couldn’t help whining at the end, before defeatedly finishing with “There’s thirty in my trunk now.”
Reiner couldn’t tell if the choking sound he was hearing was Levi laughing, or having a fit, and he shuffled nervously listening for two minutes. Levi seemed to catch his breath before Reiner could get too concerned, gasping “Are you f-fucking kidding me right now? You bought thirty fucking lobsters because you felt sorry for them?” Reiner waited a little longer, the choking noises continuing (he assumed it was laughter now), until Levi was calm enough to talk normally.
“Alright fuckface, you’re not gonna like what I’m gonna tell you,” He started, and Reiner couldn’t help a smile; whenever Levi prefaced with that, it always meant that he was going to help as best as he could. “Keeping lobsters isn’t easy, and it’s not likely you’ve got anything set up for them,” Levi paused, Reiner hummed noncommittally, which Levi correctly translated to mean ‘I have no fucking clue what kind of set up that’d be’. Sighing, he continued, “They need like, hundred gallon tanks for just one lobster. And you gotta do like, biweekly 25% water changes. That’s a fuckton of water. Even if you could keep more than one, those shitty bastards are cannibalistic, and will eat each other if given the chance, which would definitely happen after first molts. So pick one to keep if you really want, but the rest have gotta go...Or be made into dinner. Pick your poison, either way twenty-nine of them gotta go.”
Reiner didn’t like the sound of that at all. Well, the water changes he could do possibly, but to have to kill almost all of the lobsters he’d rescued…”Can’t you try to find them homes for me Levi?” He asked desperately, tucking his phone in between his shoulder and his ear to get a handle on the crate of lobsters and move them into the car. Levi’s annoyed sigh was loud in his ear, huffing out a small laugh as he answered “As much as I’d absolutely love to take your lobsters off your hands, I don’t run a rescue for wayward dinner entrees.” Reiner made an offended noise at that, the box being placed carefully on the back seat, as he whined “Can’t you make an exception for friends? I can’t just...Eat them...” His voice had dropped to a whisper and he looked at the box of lobsters furtively as if he was worried that they would hear and understand what he was saying.
“If I made exceptions for friends, Jaeger would’ve stocked the store with all those goddamn crabs last year.” Levi said blandly, and Reiner couldn’t help but shudder at that incident. All of their friends had eaten crab for almost three months following, and Eren still never explained how he’d gotten so many crabs (Jean seemed to know, but whenever someone asked, he would get this faraway look of horror and would whisper “you don’t want to know”. It was a great deterrent for anyone else that wanted to know, at the very least). There was the sound of papers shuffling, as Levi asked “You and Bertholdt still at that apartment on Rose? I can meet you there in about an hour and help you set up for a lobster.” Reiner grinned at how defeated Levi sounded; it wasn’t like he set out to be a pain in the ass, but somehow he was always a pain in the ass for Levi. “Yup, still on Rose. I’ll just...Look up recipes in the meantime I guess?” Reiner checked the time on his phone, sighing in relief at there still being about four hours until Bertholdt would be getting home. That’d give him a few hours to make dinner perfect, right?
Four hours was definitely not enough time. After Levi had left (two hours left until Bertl returned, and close to $500 poorer), their new, giant saltwater tank taking up the wall space Bertl had reserved for a future bookshelf, Reiner had had to practically run to the florist to pick up the flowers he had ordered. Jean tried to look sympathetic as he handed the flowers over, even going so far as to give Reiner a (very thankfully accepted) discount and a grumbled “looks like you’re having a rough day buddy, good luck” that had almost made Reiner want to shout about the impending apocalypse. But no, he was just thankful that he could go back to their apartment and anxiously fidget around the kitchen as twenty-nine lobsters boiled. The smallest one was safely tucked into its new tank, and Reiner couldn’t help but feel ridiculously happy at seeing it scuttle around when he poked his head into the living room every few minutes. With only a half hour left until Bertl was expected home, Reiner breathed a sigh of relief when the last lobster was done. There were plenty of recipes he could do with such little time left.
Reiner was so focused on all the different recipes he had found, mixing and chopping away as he stirred sauce pans on the stove, that he didn’t hear their front door open, nor did he hear Bertholdt call out “I’m home”. Reiner nearly jumped out of his skin when Bertl had appeared in the kitchen doorway, a confused and mildly scared look on his face. “Jesus, Bert!” He yelped, nearly dropping the large knife he was wielding almost expertly. Once the knife was safely placed on the cutting board, Reiner bounced over to the sink to wash his hands quickly, and nearly tackled his taller boyfriend, who would’ve gone down like a pile of bricks if he wasn’t already expecting the attack.
“Happy Valentine’s day, baby,” Reiner cooed, placing a quick kiss on Bertholdt’s lips before pulling back to continue hovering over the food in the oven. Several different timers went off at the same time, and Reiner had to hurriedly pull four extra trivets onto the counter, before pulling three separate pans out and onto the trivets. Bertholdt watched all of this with his eyebrows scraping his hairline, surprised at Reiner actually having cooked something, the resident god of prepackaged food. It all smelled really good, even with the slight smell of fish hanging around. Smiling, Bertholdt turned back to the living room, freezing as he caught sight of the tank where his future bookshelf was supposed to go. “Reiner, why is there a fish tank where my bookshelf is going to go?” He asked, almost dreading the answer.
Reiner waved a hand as he shoved a different pan into the oven, calling “It’s a long story babe, don’t worry about it!” Which automatically meant that Bertholdt had to worry about it immediately. It seemed to just be an empty tank, but upon closer inspection, movement out of the corner of his eye made him jump defensively, until he realized it was a small lobster. “Why is there a lobster in the fish tank?” He asked, confused. Surely a lobster didn’t need this much space?
“Oh, you mean Bertha?” Reiner called, poking his head into the doorway with a grin. Bertholdt just stared at him for a second, before slowly repeating the name and rubbing his forehead to get rid of the headache that had to be coming on. “Reiner, why do we have a lobster named Bertha in a fish tank where my bookshelf was going to go?” He asked as calmly as possible, gritting his teeth in frustration by the end of his question, and hoping that this wasn’t going to be like the crab incident with Eren.
Reiner sighed, jumping slightly when another timer went off. “Y’see, I had this grand plan to make you your favorite, those fancy lamb chops?” Reiner’s voice was raised a little so Bertholdt could hear him while his head was basically inside their oven, humming in delight when he finally grabbed the pan that he needed to fish out. “But y’know how Garrison has those lobster tanks? I couldn’t just let them stay there, those tanks were fuckin’ disgusting! At least one of them was dead, and the others just looked fuckin’ miserable. I couldn’t leave them there, and I was just gonna make them into food, but like...Bertha looked at me, and I looked at her, and I couldn’t make her into a fuckin’ seafood salad or something. So I called Levi, and he helped me set a tank up for her, and well…” Reiner shrugged kind of helplessly, before gesturing to all the different types of food he had made. “There were thirty, but apparently lobsters will eat each other if given the chance, how brutal is that? So now, we have lobster rolls, lobster bisque, lobster newburg, lobster thermidor, lobster fricassee, lobster mac and cheese, and lobster and bacon jalapeno poppers.” Reiner pointed at each different pan and pot as he named each recipe he had created, puffing up with pride, as he completely ignored the terrifying tower of dirty dishes rising from their sink.
With a resigned sigh, Bertholdt sat down at the tiny table, watching as Reiner continued to cook. “I won’t be annoyed, as long as you do the dishes tonight,” Bertholdt grumbled, and Reiner couldn’t help but beam at him as he added “All the dishes, Reiner, not just the ones you want to do.” Reiner hummed, pulling down a pair of plates as he turned off the stove, and piled them high with each recipe. It was only as Reiner placed the plates down, one in front of Bertholdt and the other in front of himself, that Bertholdt thought of something.
“Reiner...How did you come up with the name Bertha for the lobster?” He asked, curious and concerned in equal amounts. “Obviously, she’s named after her daddy,” Reiner said happily, positively beaming at Bertholdt, who sighed loudly. “That is a lobster, not a child Reiner, I’m not its parent.” Reiner squawked loudly at that, before yelling towards the living room “He didn’t mean that Bertha, sweetie, he’s just grumpy ‘cause he hasn’t eaten yet.” Reiner frowned loudly at Bertholdt, who just shook his head as he poked at the food in front of him.
It’s not that Bertholdt didn’t trust Reiner’s cooking...It’s just that Reiner only ever seemed to have success when he made things like frozen pizza rolls, and everything else came out questionably. It was reasonable to be concerned, Bertholdt concluded, scooping up the tiniest forkful of the lobster mac and cheese (there’s no way he could screw up mac and cheese, even with lobster added in), popping it into his mouth. He shouldn’t have been so surprised that it was good , but he was, and the squeaking moan he tried to stifle made Reiner laugh at least.
“Looks like I’ve found something I’m good at making that didn’t come frozen in a bag!” Reiner practically squealed, his eyes sparkling with delight. Bertholdt wanted to laugh, but instead he leaned across the table to kiss Reiner softly. Even though he lost the spot for his future bookshelf, it was still a very good Valentine’s Day.