"How do you feel about handcuffs?" John says from behind him.
Rodney immediately has a little daydream where John's on his back, arms stretched over his head, hands cuffed to the headboard; naked, totally, beautifully naked, and hard, and probably a little angry, just enough to make it good that he's tied down, and Rodney's standing at the foot of the bed, still fully dressed, and touching himself through his pants. Yeah, that always drives John crazy.
"Check it out," John says, breaking into Rodney's happy time and dangling a package of hot pink, sparkly, Hello Kitty handcuffs in front of him. Rodney is speechless. It's like Japanese lesbian schoolgirl bondage gone horribly, horribly wrong.
"No!" he says finally. "No! If you're not going to be any help picking out a dildo, then go away. It's only going up your ass after all, it's not like it's an important decision, like what kind of hair gel to buy."
Sheppard pouts at him, then slinks off with his Hello Kitty handcuffs and disappears into the lube aisle.
Rodney goes back to trying to decide what kind of dildo to get. They're only going to be in Montreal for three more days, so he's on a deadline, but the display seems to go on forever. He returns to the fantasy of John handcuffed to the bed; this time Rodney is kneeling between John's legs, petting his hip with one hand while the other slowly rubs the head of the dildo around his hole. Rodney loves putting things in John's ass, watching them disappear bit by bit, his fingers, his cock, and -- the realistic flesh-colored dildo? No, the black curved one. He'd tease John by going slowly at first, in and out, just an inch at a time, until he was begging for it, and then he'd slip it all the way in; John would arch his back, straining at the cuffs, and Rodney would go down on him while fucking him with the dildo, angling it to hit that sweet spot that never fails to make John curse -- but the real question is silicone or rubber?
Frowning at the army of dick substitutes stretching from here to the horizon, he consults the information he printed out from the internet. Silicone's hypo-allergenic and can be sanitized easily, but can't be used with silicone-based lubes. Rubber get softer and more flexible with time, but it's porous and needs to be used with condoms, and they already go through way too many of those as it is. Glass? No way is he putting a glass rod up his ass. Stainless steel? Maybe.
He looks up to see if Sheppard's formed an opinion on any of this yet, and finds him over in the porn, apparently getting a kick out of the DVDs having both English and French on them and completely oblivious to the scruffy blonde twink cruising him from the other side of the rack.
Rodney huffs. He has to do everything in this relationship. He glances around the store. Maybe an anal plug? Rodney could make John wear it to dinner, and then after dinner, Rodney could take it out and slide right into him. Instant fucking, no waiting. No waiting for Rodney, at least. It'd serve John right for being so damned lazy.
The twink is getting bolder, venturing closer to John, flirting shamelessly, pants so low on his hips it's obvious he isn't wearing underwear and a pretty good bet he doesn't have any pubic hair, either. John's not even looking at the gay porn and he's still getting cruised. Life is so unfair.
Rodney stomps over to reclaim his stupid boyfriend.
"La pornographie," John says when he sees Rodney, showing off the remains of his high school French. He's got the Hello Kitty handcuffs, three kinds of lube, and a leather cock ring. Rodney should have known he'd be an impulse shopper.
"Wonderful," Rodney says. "Why don't you come back over here and help me pick out something to stick up your ass, hm?"
The twink says something in French and leans in way, way too close to Sheppard. Rodney pushes his way between them, but despite Rodney having about sixty pounds on him, the twink doesn't seem to take Rodney as a threat, he's still smiling at John and saying sexy French things. Admittedly, Rodney's only working off grade school French, here, and they didn't teach the sexy stuff in grade four, but he's heard people trying to pick up John using unknown alien languages; Rodney knows when it's happening.
"Get lost!" Rodney says in, hopefully, French. He grabs John by the waistband of his jeans and hauls him across the store. They stop near the vibrators and John gives him a lazy, lazy grin that turns Rodney on like crazy. "What?" he says. "What!"
"I'm going to kiss you now," John says.
Rodney worries that this is some kind of test. "Yes?"
John leans in, and it's just a short kiss, because his arms are full of sex toys, but it's sweet and familiar and Rodney forgets his jealousy because John Sheppard just kissed him in public. In a sex store in Canada, yeah, but it totally counts.
"I got you a cock ring," John says. "Wanna go back to the hotel and try it out?"
And Rodney's fantasy changes and suddenly he's the one with his arms tied over his head and John's the one teasing him, snapping him into the cock ring, kissing his chest and pinching his nipples, fingering him until he's slippery with lube and begging, begging to come, to take the ring off, to touch himself, anything, whatever John will let him have.
"Okay," Rodney says, trying to play it cool, though his pants are probably giving him away. "But I want padded leather restraints. I am not using those Hello Kitty handcuffs."
"Those aren't for you anyway," John says. "They're for Teyla."
"Oh my god," Rodney says, hurrying off towards the leather counter. "I do not want to know."