"Wanted to and never did"

A short story about Johnlock.

By: Sinattea.



Note: I wanted to update early today, but this puzzle got me obsessed, so I decided to finish that first. Yay for myself! It's the fastest I've ever solved a 500 pieces puzzle. But now, let's go to what matters. This is the last chapter, and is, honestly… so sweet it could cause someone diabetes (at least in my opinion, but don't take me too serious: I'm the opposite of "romantic" in real life, my standards are just weird). Fortunately I've got hypoglycemia, and I desperately needed the sugar when I wrote this, three weeks ago...

You now know how the spanish format I use works. No more warnings about that.

Read, enjoy, review!



Chapter 3: What they wanted to do and never did.


Sherlock was shocked and stupefied as he never thought he could be. He hadn't been surprised in a long time, and John had just knocked him off his certainties. The feeling was so… so… indescribable, actually. Someone as inexperienced as Sherlock in the matter of love could not define it, or understand it. Irene and Moriarty had been right to once call him "The virgin". Yet, although he knew nothing about love, he had liked John's kiss.

He and John locked eyes for a while.

- I have never…

- I know – said John, holding Sherlock's hand. An electrifying shiver shook Sherlock from head to toes. Their faces were less than two inches apart, and yet Sherlock didn't feel weird, on the contrary, he felt eager to close the distance between he and John at once.

- John?

- Yes?

- Do that again.

John Watson didn't need to be told twice. He kissed Sherlock for a second time, more passionate, more endearing. And he then kissed him again, and again…


Maybe he'd wanted to do that for a long time, he just was in feral denial. As he kissed Sherlock, John couldn't help but run his hands through that curly black hair, ruffling it as he'd always felt tempted to do to tease his mate; of course now it wouldn't tease Sherlock at all. John also pulled him by the scarf to deepen the kiss, and Sherlock didn't oppose. John smiled against Sherlock's lips, because he could notice how his "friend" was frankly anxious: he didn't know what to do with his hands. John wondered for a second if that was really Sherlock's first "kiss", but he didn't have to think much, he knew the answer.

They separated at the same time to take some air and at the same time met their lips together once more. How nice, for the first time they were totally coordinated at something… Wait, it wasn't the first time; they've always shown a very special mental connection, they could understand each other perfectly without the need of words. The signs had always been there, although they were too stubborn to notice.


Before both of them became aware of it, John was already pushing Sherlock gently on the bed, removing the scarf and the coat from their places. Gosh, Sherlock looked simply adorable with his messed up hair and his untidy shirt, and that habit of his of wearing tight pants… John recriminated himself for not recognizing his attraction earlier, he could have saved himself so much trouble with those women.

Nonetheless, when John removed his own jersey (Sherlock would never admit it, but he really liked John's old fashioned sweaters) the first doubt assaulted him.

- Are you sure you want to do this?

No matter how grown up or smart he was, Sherlock was still so childish when it came to some issues. His lack of knowledge in some basic areas of life made him almost innocent, and John didn't want to spoil that.

Sherlock Holmes, however, seemed to think differently.

- When have I ever doubted or regretted any decision? Prove you know me, John Watson.

Then it was Sherlock the one who kissed John, placing his hand at the back of his neck to keep him close. Adoring the initiative of his mate, John finally gathered the guts to slide his tongue inside Sherlock's mouth, and gosh how he enjoyed the surprise he found there. Apparently the excessive talking required by the science of deduction had given Sherlock an unsuspected skill worth to be shown off.

Whatever happened next in that room was something they both had needed for years but never dared to look for.



Next morning Sherlock was the first to wake up, and he spent thirty minutes or so thinking of what happened last night and keeping the memories safe in a very special place at his mind palace (there was a special place in his mind palace!).

He never thought he'd come to share his blanket with anyone. And there he was, wrapped in the same white sheets, all naked, with John Watson.

At that moment John woke up and fixed his eyes on him.

- Well, that was…

- Brilliant, John. Brilliant! Now that was christmas!

- You don't like christmas…

- I might like it from now on – Sherlock smiled. He smiled, genuinely and happily -. How could I ever get bored living in the same flat with you?

- Because we slept in different bedrooms – John couldn't help then but laugh, relieved. He'd loved last night, but knowing Sherlock as he did, there was always the fear that he might hasn't enjoyed it as much as him. After knowing he'd just redefined Sherlock Holmes' definition for christmas, he could relax.

- Of course, the bothersome difference between flatmate and roommate – Sherlock said, and giggled with him -. It's still strange, however. I spent thirty-six years of my life being asexual, remember?

- Thirty six? I spent forty-one years of mine being straight! – replied John, holding back his laughter.

- Thirty-nine – corrected Sherlock.

- What was that?

- Thirty-nine. We met two years ago: you spent only thirty-nine years of your life being straight – now Sherlock was not only smiling, but smirking, quite self-satisfied.

- What are you insinuating? – John imitated Sherlock's satisfaction smile.

- Nothing – he shrugged.

- Oh, I get it. You aren't insinuating, you are confessing your crime. I'm not gay, just as I said, you made me gay.

- Yeah, sure, blame the genius, works all the time – Sherlock joked. John didn't even know he was capable of such a good mood. He felt proud of himself for achieving that goal with Sherlock.

- Works for me – John joked along.

They giggled together for a while, like they'd done plenty of times before. Next they simply held hands and went silent, each one dealing with his own emotions (because, yes, Sherlock Holmes has emotions and John Watson just proved it).

They had many a thing to think about.


"Love is a much more vicious motivator" Sherlock quoted himself in a whisper. At last he understood the true meaning of that phrase, the real depth of the words. Love as a motivator… He would kill for John Watson. He was ready to kill or die for him. He already had, in fact.

- I did it for you, you know? – Sherlock said suddenly - To fake my death.

- For me? Sherlock, if someone was getting any profit from your death I definitely wasn't that person – John started getting not angry, but raging -. If it's true you followed me then you know my world tore to pieces because of- - -

- He was going to kill you – interrupted Sherlock, avoiding John's look and focusing on the ceiling -. Moriarty was going to kill you, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade, unless his paid assassins saw me jumping off that roof. He was going to kill you, John. I wasn't going to allow it.

- So you died in my place…? How…?

- I'll explain everything to you, in time; I was supposed to stay dead for a whole year at least. Molly helped, if you're curious.

"The swearing, John Watson, remember the swearing?!"

- Of course I'm curious! Moreover: I'm furious! A year?! Sherlock, for a whole month I have believed that you died before me and it nearly killed me off! How was I supposed to go on like that for a whole y- - -!

- I'm so sorry – Sherlock muttered, his face the legitimate personification of regret.

- Sherlock… – the unexpected apology softened John's heart, though he was still slightly irritated - If you have a plan, why don't you share it with me? Did you listen to the part of my speech about being a team? …Even after last night you won't trust me?

- I trust you! – affirmed Sherlock, turning over his left side to look at John - I'm trying to protect you! That's all I want.

There was something so honest and desperate in Sherlock's blue eyes that completely melted John's rage. Sherlock looked so vulnerable, so in need… Two seconds later he'd moved onward to softly press his lips against John's. The elder blonde man sighed.

- Remember last night Sherlock? I'm the man in this relationship, I should be the one protecting you.

Sherlock's face turned unbelievably red and he drew back a few inches, his dignity profoundly wounded. John smiled, amused yet tender.

- It'll hurt tomorrow – mumbled Sherlock, reddening worse.

- We'll get you used to it.

- Really? Oh, yes – Sherlock reset himself in deduction-mode, grabbing John's wrist carefully -, look at those dilated pupils, your breathing has fastened and your pulse accelerated as well – his face then turned into a unique combination of suspicious frown and naughty grin -. John Watson, you really can't wait to do it again!

- Waited two years already, wasn't that enough?

Embracing each other they kissed passionately, Sherlock laying on his back and John on top of him, ravishing his mouth.

None of them had ever felt so alive.


Minutes later, when they were trying to decide whether to go out for breakfast or not (Sherlock would wear a disguise, of course), time came to converse about more imperative business.

- So – started John -, are you telling them? Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade? Are you showing yourself to them?

- Must wait for it to be adequate, John, as I told you – replied Sherlock, strangely apprehensive -. But I'm actually more worried about how are we going to tell them about us when they find out I'm alive.

- Sherlock Holmes is worried about anything? – John grinned mischievously.

- Come on, John; don't pretend you don't know for sure everyone will immediately notice you aren't depressed anymore. And of course they'll notice as well you'll start dating someone.

- Will I? – John raised an eyebrow in the highest amusement.

- John, of course we are seeing each other again before time comes for me to return from the dead. Aren't we? – Sherlock sounded just a little bit insecure with the last question. John felt guilty with it, but he so enjoyed the lack of confidence in Sherlock's reaction; meant he needed him - Because if not I might stick to my original plan and leave London to travel around the world.

- Why didn't you do that in the first place?

- Because if I did I wouldn't be able to watch after you.

John couldn't help but smile: Sherlock cared for him. Coming from the consulting detective who considered people as nothing more than objects of occasional study, it meant a lot for him to say that about John.

- So… does this mean that we are dating now? Are we together for real? – John asked.

Sherlock flushed violently one more time.

- Well… if you want to…

- Sherlock, of course I want to! – John seemed to be almost offended by the doubt - I meant it. Everything I said at the cemetery, I meant it.

- Even the part when…?

- Yes, even that part, particularly that part – John straightened up and his eyes became the reflection of honesty -. I don't know why, Sherlock. I seriously don't understand how I came to this. I don't even know how anyone can find all the annoying things about you adorable, but I'm afraid I do. I mean it, Sherlock: I love you.

Now it was Sherlock's turn for his heart to melt, which was a whole new experience for him. He'd never felt the need to have anyone by his side, ever since he was child he could do just fine on his own. He was all of a loner, and he was okay with it. But when John came into his life, everything was so surprising. It was surprising how easy it was for Sherlock to blindly trust him so soon, how fast he started feeling that being accompanied was the right thing for him. It was surprising how swiftly he became fond of John Watson and how deep that feeling grew to be… It grew huge enough to become… love? Could the vast feeling inside of him be love? Being ready to sacrifice yourself for another person truly was love?

He had to find out.

- John… well… how do I say this? – Sherlock's voice had never sounded so weak and full of emotion - It's just… You know I'm not quite familiar with feelings.

- You are, you just delete it – was John's smiley reply. That somehow managed to make Sherlock feel a lot more comfortable with what he was about to do.

- May be, but still… – doing that typical reflexive gesture with his hands, Sherlock exhaled heavily, feeling vulnerable the most; but it was ok, because John was there to look after him, right? - John… I think I love you…

- Of course you do. That's all you do: you think too much – he joked.

John placed his right hand on Sherlock's face, caressing his cheekbones with his thumb. He adored Sherlock's cheekbones, the sharp features on his perfect-skinned face. Smiling gently, he then moved closer to Sherlock, as if he were going to kiss him, but stopped before their lips could touch.

Sherlock couldn't dissimulate the mild and sore shock that invaded him when John didn't properly kiss him. He was about to get upset; so far John had never denied anything to him, not when it came to daily life or work, and certainly not when it came to sex, even if they'd only tried it out once. But how could he ever get upset with John?

So he chose a different way of acting. Closing his eyes, he leaned in to be the one who locked lips with John.

That kiss tasted like glory.

John closed his eyes as well and automatically smiled. No matter what, publicly dead or secretly alive, publicly asexual or secretly gay, the fact was that Sherlock Holmes was now his. Sherlock loved him. And all the things he always wanted to do but never did, were now going to happen.





Note (warning, it's a long one):

I can't believe how sickly romantic and corny I wrote this third chapter (diabetes!), and the end is soooo cheesy… but hey! We all need love, especially John and Sherlock…

I know they're OoC here, and I apologize. I was quite proud of myself because I sort of felt them IC in the first two chapters, but what can I say? The only way to write them as a couple and totally IC is to wait until season 3 and see if Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss (-Mycroft is watching you-) and Steve Thompson decide to make the fans happy and keep going with the homosexuality allusions… or kidnap them and force them to write season 3 with John marrying Sherlock or something…

After all, if we wanted things to happen "by the book", we would read! But we are watching BBC instead. Now we want a modern adaptation of Sherlock Holmes in which he is openly dating Watson! So, yeah! Fanservice!


And I believe it's not necessary to tell that all the time-line in here it's all made up. Shame on me, but this wasn't supposed to be a very exact fic, I just wanted to write something to make my fangirl-shipper heart happy after the dramatic season 2's finale.

The ages I used for Sherlock and John are actually the ages of Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman. Smile.


And I want to deeply thank everyone who added to favorites, subscribed and reviewed.

Special thanks to the reviewers, you made my day and I O U… a Smile!


And one last thing: if you already spent valuable minutes of yours reading this fic, I believe you can afford to spend thirty extra seconds to write a review. I really want to know what you think, otherwise how am I supposed to improve my writing?

Reviews are the Sherlock to my John... or was it the other way around?