Warning: Product May Cause Arousal In Some Beings

It was the first time Quinn had ever been outside.

The moment they stepped out of the building and onto the pavement, she gasped and began pointing at everything, rapidly naming each object she recognized - streetlights, drain grates, window frames, parked cars. Her voice carried the bright excitement of someone discovering the world for the first time.

He couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Have you really never seen this before?”

She shook her head.

“No. I appeared right outside your door when I came here!”

Any other person would have struggled to believe that.

Jarel had long since stopped trying to apply normal logic to his life.

He laughed softly.

“Come on. This way.”

He started down the road, and she followed closely. The sidewalk was busy - it was the weekend, after all - and the constant flow of people clearly unsettled her. She didn’t know where anything was. She didn’t know how far they were going.

She didn’t want to get lost.

So she did the first thing that came to mind.

She grabbed his hand.

He looked down in surprise.

She wasn’t looking at him at all. Her eyes were scanning the crowd as if preparing to fight it.

For what, he wasn’t sure.

But that didn’t matter.

He was more than happy to hold her hand.

Sadly, the supermarket was only about ten minutes away.

But apparently hand-holding was not restricted to the outdoors.

When they reached the automatic doors, Quinn jumped as they slid open on their own. She stared at them suspiciously as they stepped through, and then flinched again at the one-way barrier clicking behind them.

Their hands never separated.

Inside, Jarel’s mind shifted into route-planning mode. He mentally mapped out the aisles, the order of stops, the most efficient path through the store. Years of routine activated automatically.

He grabbed two baskets and handed one to her.

She immediately gripped the rim instead of the handle.

He gently adjusted her hands.

“Like this.”

She nodded, absorbing the information with surprising seriousness.

Then they were off.

First stop: fruit and vegetables.

He put those in his own basket. Not because he didn’t trust her exactly - but because he didn’t yet know how she’d react to… anything.

It was awkward shopping with only one free hand. But by coordinating their joined hands, they managed. A surprisingly efficient system, actually.

The aisles passed quietly. Quinn remained silent, watching him with intense focus as he selected items and placed them neatly inside the baskets.

Flour went in.

Then she finally spoke.

“What else are we getting?”

He opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

He realized, with mild horror, that he couldn’t list the items aloud.

He could only remember them in order.

“We’re getting eggs next.”

She nodded slowly, clearly thinking about something.

He had no idea what.

They reached the eggs, and before he could grab anything she piped up again.

“Can I get them?”

He nodded.

“Sure. Go for it.”

She beamed, released his hand - much to his disappointment - grabbed the box he pointed to…

…and promptly dropped it into her basket from a concerning height.

He winced.

“Ooo, don’t do that.”

She blinked at him.

“Why not?”

“Because they’re fragile. They might break.”

She immediately opened the carton.

All intact, thankfully.

She frowned.

“But they’re fine. And it’s faster and more efficient to drop rather than carefully place.”

He sighed. How was he supposed to justify this one?

“I would rather not risk breaking something and then having to spend time cleaning it up.”

She considered that, lips pursed.

“Ugh. So it could be faster… but because there’s a chance it makes it slower, you’d rather not risk it.”

He nodded.

“That’s right.”

She nodded slowly.

“Then could we not reduce the probability of failure while still increasing speed?”

He chuckled.

“Let’s just let this one go.”

She harrumphed and folded her arms.

“I’m not holding your hand anymore then.”

He blinked.

How had she known he enjoyed that?

He was sure she was bluffing. Very sure.

“If that’s the consequence, so be it.”

She scowled.

For several long seconds neither of them moved.

Then she exhaled dramatically.

“What’s next on the list?”

“Cheese.”

She nodded.

He thought that was the end of it.

It was not.

As they neared the dairy aisle, her tail began wagging faster. Her ears twitched. She hissed softly. Then she sniffed the air, long and sharp.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Are you alright?”

She shook her head and nodded at the same time, ears flattening as her head made a confused little circle.

“There’s an annoying buzzing noise coming from there. It’s very loud.”

The fridges, he realized. Wolf hearing.

But then her ears perked up again.

“But from the same place… there is a delicious smell!”

He smiled.

“So what’re you going to do?”

She looked genuinely torn. The noise was clearly bothering her, but the scent was calling her forward like destiny. She shifted her weight back and forth, stepping forward, then retreating.

He chuckled, walked straight in without issue, grabbed the block he wanted, and returned to her.

Her eyes sparkled as he held it out.

“Here’s that nice smell.”

She snatched it from him and inhaled along the length of it - deep and slow - dragging it beneath her nose.

A visible shiver ran through her.

She let out a soft, involuntary sound that absolutely did not belong in a supermarket.

Jarel stared at her.

“Making those sounds in public? Bold.”

She blinked.

“What sounds?”

He frowned.

“The noise you made when you sniffed the cheese.”

She tilted her head. One ear copied the movement.

“That noise is bad to make in public?”

How was he supposed to explain that that noise was associated with things well beyond the rating of this story?

He scrambled.

“It is. People might think you’re doing something… inappropriate.”

He rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s just embarrassing, alright?”

She frowned, but nodded.

“Okay. But I can sniff the cheese as much as I want at home, right?”

He nodded.

“Yeah.”

She beamed.

“Okay!”

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that being a regular occurrence, but it was infinitely better than her discovering the concept of public scandal.

He reached out to take the cheese.

Her expression shifted instantly - joy to suspicion to outright hostility.

She growled.

“No. I’m carrying the cheese.”

He raised both hands in surrender.

“I’m not taking it from you.”

Her tail resumed its happy sway.

“Okay! What’s next?”

He was slowly getting used to the mood switches.

“Milk.”

She nodded, still clutching the cheese protectively, and they continued down the aisle together.

If he thought the cheese obsession was temporary, however, he was very wrong.