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"Nnnnnng," Rodney keened as the vibrations ripped through him, "oh God, John, please."
John laughed softly and Rodney could feel the stubble of John's five o'clock shadow scrape across his skin; one more maddening stimulus that threatened to push him over the edge; if not for the silver ring around the base of his cock.
"Come on, Rodney," John's voice was rougher than usual but no less teasing. "You know the rules. Now, 55,764."
"Not prime, you bastard," Rodney growled.
"Another right answer," John said. "It's almost like you don't want to come. Maybe I should give you a bit more?"
The vibrations kicked up a notch and Rodney bit back a sob of need. He had always suspected that John had an evil streak but this, this was just too cruel. Rodney was bound naked to the bed and being fucked mercilessly with a vibrator. While this would normally be the happiest day of his life, John - evil bastard that he was - had decided to add the cock ring in, along with the instruction that he couldn't come until he was so desperate with the need to come that he answered incorrectly in a game of prime, not prime. Because, of course John knew that it would take more than the want of an orgasm for Rodney to even pretend to appear stupid.
God, it was tempting though.
"33,997?"
"...ohmygod...fuck...prime."
"27,456?"
"Ah, yes, just there, um, not prime?"
"Oh, I think I almost got you there, buddy," John sounded gleeful. "What would Zelenka think? You can do better than that." John eased the vibrator, black, curved and wicked looking, out of Rodney for just long enough to coat it liberally with lubricant. "I hadn't expected you to last this long," he said, "we're getting a bit dry, can't have that."
He sounded breathless and a little bit impressed at Rodney's mental perseverance. It made Rodney feel warm inside, at least it did until John chose his next number with a vicious thrust.
"3?"
Rodney almost sprained his wrists trying to get free. "You..you..god, I hate you so fucking much. Prime."
He lost himself for a while. The discomfort of holding his wrists above his head and the obnoxious buzzing of the toy faded away until all that was left was the pleasure stroking through his body, the feel of John's touch, his lips, on Rodney's skin and, always, the math.
He didn't know how many more numbers John threw at him but he knew that he answered each one of them correctly. He was starting to think that he might have a masochistic streak, especially when John turned the vibrator on to its highest setting and held it in place, just barely stroking his prostate, for a full twenty seconds.
"Prime," he shrieked, "prime, oh god, prime, prime."
John's mouth closed around his leaking cock in reward and Rodney wanted it to stop, he wanted it to never end, God, he just wanted.
"524,287?"
Rodney shook his head. He's done, he won't answer, he just needed to come.
"Rodney? Answer the question. 524,287." John's voice had taken on a harder edge, an edge that Rodney knew meant that punishment is just around the corner. He couldn't stand against that edge, had never been able to; not on missions and certainly not in bed.
"Prime, Sir," he responded immediately. "It's prime, prime, a prime number. Oh god." He knew that he was babbling but John was doing something wonderful with his wrist and oh fuck, oh God, the pressure's gone and he was coming and holy fuck it was worth the wait and - -
Blacking out from orgasm was something that had never happened to Rodney before John Sheppard slinked his way into his life. He blinked back into consciousness to feel John spooned up behind him, stroking lazy circles on his chest.
"You back with me?" John sounded as wrecked as Rodney felt.
"Bastard," Rodney pushed closer. "524,287 is so a prime number."
John laughed, his breath a tickle on the back of Rodney's neck. "Well, yeah, but it's a Mersenne prime and I figured the fact that you didn't answer that was as close as you were going to get to a wrong answer."
Rodney shivered as John's lips traced their way down his neck. "Hmm," he hummed happily, "I hope you realise this means that you cheated. You weren't able to fuck the brains out of me; at least not all the way."
John's teeth nipped at Rodney's earlobe. "I suppose you're right," he said, "but I'll get there. This weekend. You, me, a vibrating prostate stimulator and chess. What do you say?"
Rodney felt his cock twitch in anticipation. "I say, I love you, you evil bastard."
"That's Sir evil bastard to you," John teased. "I love you, too."