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Just because Sherlock didn’t feel sexual attraction, didn’t have any particular desire to have sex, didn’t mean that he found the act repugnant. Quite the opposite, in fact. He had no desire to watch clichéd, cookie-cutter porn. It was the real thing that drew him, what one body could do to another. It was where people were the most real, and most fake.
Admittedly Sherlock had lost track of time, but it wasn’t a shock when John walked in, his eyes widening at the sound of sex. Taking pity in him, Sherlock paused the video.
John’s eyes were locked on the frozen screen his cheek’s pink as he took in the sight of the large cock filling the screen of his laptop (this certainly explained his recently malware problems). “Research?” John questioned, voice high.
“Of a sort,” Sherlock replied with a smirk. “Care to help?”
John all but choked on his tongue, before fleeing.
Sherlock’s smirk followed him out the door. John would be back; he never could pass up a challenge.
