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"--is this even for? Because I know it's not to fix the runs in your pantyhose," Rodney said, interrupting what had been a solid ten minutes of monologuing about… John didn't know, actually. He hadn't been paying attention until he realized he'd been asked a question.
"What did I say about messing with my stuff, McKay?" John looked up from the article he was reading. "Get out of my bathroom."
"I was getting a tissue! And this was sitting right there on the counter. It's not like I rifled through your medicine cabinet or something." Rodney shook the little bottle in his hand for emphasis. "Nail polish. Wait, wait, of course, it doesn't belong to you. Whose is it? Is she hot? And how come you didn't tell me you have a lady friend?"
John sighed and set down the magazine. "I don't have a 'lady friend.' It's mine."
"Oh." Rodney frowned. "Then, what? Is there some kind of super-secret military application for nail polish that I've never-- But then why would it be blue? I'd expect, I don't know, clear. Or black."
Military application? How did Rodney come up with this stuff? John shook his head. "It's for nails. And it's blue because I like blue."
He liked the silver sparkles in it too, not that he was going to mention that if Rodney hadn't noticed the glitter on his own.
"But… You're a guy. And besides, you don't wear nail polish! I would have noticed that!" Rodney looked completely baffled. It was kind of cool.
"Guess you don't look at my feet that often."
"Your fee-- You do not paint your toenails!"
John was already bending to take off his boots, guessing that Rodney wouldn't let it go until he had some proof. "Yeah. I do." He tugged off one sock and wiggled his toes at Rodney, letting the pale blue polish catch the light.
Rodney sat down on the bed, apparently too surprised to keep standing up. "Did you lose a bet or something? No, that can't be it - this bottle is half-empty. You must have used it lots of… Why?"
John shrugged. "I just like the way it looks." He pulled off his other sock, and wiggled all of his toes. "It's cool."
"That's not the first word that comes to mind, Colonel."
John shrugged again. "Don't care. Anyway, it's not like anyone else ever sees my feet, either." He didn't really do barefoot, or sandals, and there really wasn't a lady friend or anyone else for him to be in a state of undress around. Even John only ever saw his own toenails a couple of times a day - in the shower, or when he was getting ready for bed - but when he painted them he knew the color was there, hidden under socks and boots, and it was… Nice. Satisfying, somehow.
"Huh." Rodney reached over and touched John's big toenail, and John resisted the urge to kick his hand. He was pretty sure they were having some kind of a Moment here, and roughhousing probably wasn't appropriate. Maybe. Then again, if McKay tried to tickle him, all bets were off.
He didn't, though. Just poked the nail curiously, like the polish might have some kind of texture or something. Which it didn't, because John hated the way the really glittery stuff was rough on top and caught on his socks.
"So," Rodney said, just as John was getting uncomfortable enough with his silent staring to be reconsidering the whole kicking thing, "would you mind… Can I try it?"
John blinked at him. Somehow, he hadn't been expecting that. But… "Yeah. Okay." He looked back down at his feet, feeling weirdly shy all of a sudden. "I have some other colors. If you don't like the blue."
He'd save the hot pink for another day, though.