Work Text:
The fic: JTTCOMH
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They stand awkwardly by the valet booth, waiting for Rey’s rental to pull up. Ben knows that she knows that he knows she got wet yesterday, and he also knows that she knows that he got hard. Logically, they shouldn’t be ashamed - there’s nothing they could have done since it was just a biological response - but it’s still somewhat inappropriate to get turned on just from being in a car with someone you’re doing business with.
When the valet worker finally puts the little Toyota into park, Rey gets to the driver’s side as quickly as possible. They both climb into the car, Ben struggling a bit to fold his lanky frame in the little sedan, and then they’re off.
“I would let you drive,” Rey babbles, “but the rental company says only I can because the car is in my name.”
It’s an unnecessary explanation since that’s fairly standard policy, but Ben still appreciates it. “Thanks,” he says offhandedly.
Her scent spikes. Calm your omega.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that in a rude way,” Ben elaborates. The sour scent of her anxiety recedes, and his inner alpha is placated for the time being.
Apparently and understandably unwilling to repeat the fiasco that was that morning’s ride to the hotel, Rey cracks all four windows before she pulls out of the parking lot. His human side is glad that the air should keep them from spiralling out of control, but his alpha mourns the loss of Rey’s intoxicating scent.
The drive to REI is just as long as the one from the airport, but in the opposite direction, so Ben gets to see the northside of the city while the earlier drive showcased the southside. Surprisingly, there doesn’t seem to be much of a wealth disparity between the two sides, unlike a lot of American cities Ben has visited. Given, he knows there’s probably something he isn’t seeing.
That being said, the northern side of Atlanta, “Buckhead,” according to the street signs, is bougie as all hell.
Rey pulls off of the highway, transitioning onto an expressway. It had been an easy drive, surprising considering all the traffic that morning.
“Huh,” Rey says, “It makes a whole world of difference to drive during not-rush hour, doesn’t it?”
Ben huffs out a chuckle. “Yeah, guess so.”
Rey pulls into the parking lot, and Ben’s eyes widen. “This was not what I was expecting.”
It’s a strangely drab building, unlike so many decked-out outdoors shops he had seen while researching. Made entirely out of grey concrete that looked almost like succo, it screams office building, not outfitter. But he trusts Rey, so if she says it’s her favorite (or “favourite”), it must be pretty legit.
They pull open the doors and step through. Right off the bat, Ben is overwhelmed.
“Woah,” he gasps, unsure of where even to start. Rey looks up at him, an amused smirk on her face.
“Come on, newbie. Let’s get you ready to hike.”
They spend the next hour or so in the clothing section, getting Ben all suited up and ready to go. Like Rey had texted him, an attendant recommends a windbreaker. Both Rey and the beta woman helping them, Val, her name tag says, agree that because it’s getting to be summer, the only temperature concerns come at night when he’ll be in a sleeping bag, but, since their elevation will be higher, it’s better safe than sorry. So Val retrieves a cart, and they start piling in clothes for him to try on. Afterwards, they move on to the shoe section. The two women are running circles around him, literally and figuratively: they’re chatting up a storm about hiking and the trail while circling the shoe racks and Ben, who’s standing dumbly in between the two designated for men.
Eventually, they seem to have decided. Ben tells them his shoe size, and they pull a few boxes, piling them in his arms before instructing him to try them on. He starts with the one that’s his actual size, determining that it’s pinching a bit, and then goes a half-size up, which works perfectly. Rey, unfamiliar with American sizing, lets Val navigate while she wanders over to the food section. Ben and Val work together to find the right fit, and, once they finish, they apparently still aren’t done with shoes. Val pulls him over towards a bunch of sandals so that Ben can pull his color preference and size.
“Ooh, Chacos?” Rey’s voice catches Ben off-guard. “I’ve always wanted a pair. I have Tevas, which are like Chaco’s cheaper sister.”
Val chuckles. “They’re still good shoes, though.”
“Totally! Don’t get me wrong, I love what I have, I just also love Chacos for some reason,” Rey responds, as chipper as ever.
Ben sticks his sandals in the cart, and they’re off to undergarments.
“Rey, what do you usually do?” Val asks as they stop by the socks.
Rey considers for a moment. “Two pairs of socks, two pairs of underwear, two bras. I have sensitive skin, so I have to be careful with repeatedly wearing dirty clothes. I’ve found that switching pairs every day and washing to let them dry overnight is the best strategy for me.”
Val nods in agreement. “That’s a pretty popular way of doing it. Ben, I would recommend you do the same: two pairs of socks and two pairs of underwear. Make sure they’re moisture-wicking and made of synthetic materials. Do you want a hand or some privacy?”
In that moment, Ben respects Val ten times more. Thank god she offered, or else he’d be incredibly uncomfortable choosing his undergarments in front of the two women. “I’ve got this. You guys go on and I’ll catch up.”
Rey and Val walk off, chatting. Taking a deep breath, Ben turns back to the task at hand. He chooses a pack of two pairs of socks, checking the material and size before throwing them in the cart. In terms of underwear, there are tons to choose from, so he goes with a couple pairs of grey boxer briefs. He tucks his choices under the windbreaker in the cart and steers it around to join Val and Rey by the food.
“Okay, this is where a lot of your preference comes into play. There are a bunch of ways to pack food, and it all depends on what you like. Have you heard of MRE’s?” Rey rattles off, looking to him to answer her question.
Ben nods. “Yeah.”
“Cool, so that’s an option. You can also do dried stuff like pasta. Obviously, anything perishable is a no-no. If we need to, we can always leave the trail to pick up more stuff, and we have the drop box in Pennsylvania. Right now, we’re shopping for the whole trip, and then we’ll ship half of it to the halfway point.”
The three of them spend a whole hour going through REI’s options and making a list of things to pick up from a grocery store. Rey assures Ben that they’ll make a stop at Target on their way back, since it’s on their drive.
Finding a backpack is a whole other affair. It’s really quite exhausting, but Ben muscles through. Rey and Val explain the importance of weight to him, then demonstrate the pros and cons of various brands and designs. Once he’s chosen one they all seem happy with, they usher him over to the sleeping bags. Halfway through Val’s introduction to choosing the right option, Ben catches a whiff of panic coming from Rey, who all of a sudden looks pale, but she snaps out of it and is quickly joining in with Val to help.
Ben picks a sleeping bag, and they move on to the last items on their list: bits and bobs and survival tools. Once they’re done, Ben’s about ready to fall asleep. He’s ushered to the checkout counter, and Val rings him up. He barely registers anything that’s going on.
And then Rey puts her hand on his back.
It’s like a lightswitch. He goes from being detached due to exhaustion to detached due to his alpha going crazy. Omega omega omega ome--
“Here you go Ben!” Val says, handing him his receipt. “Have a nice day, you two!” she calls, and Rey says something back, but all Ben can think about is the feeling of her hand (which has now moved to his bicep) guiding him to the car.