Hi guys! For any of my previous readers, I am so sorry for not publishing anything in so long. I have been super busy. For any new readers, this is my third story on this site and my first Sherlock story. Post-Reichbach- it's been done before but this is my try at it. Enjoy!

Eight months- that is how long John Watson had missed his best friend. In the first month, he had refused to leave 221B in hopes of Sherlock's returning and to avoid the press. The following month he hadto return to work or he would lose his job. For the next two months he followed the boring routine of wake up, go to work, come home, make two cups of tea, and go to bed in Sherlock'sold room. In the fourth month, John realized his true feelings, which only devastated him more. He was in love with Sherlock Holmes. It was during the fifth month that he visited Sherlock's grave and let all of his emotions out-little did he know that someone had been listening from a few yards away.

Eight months-that is how long Sherlock had known what is was like to truly be alone. Sherlock had always introduced John as his colleague or assistant, but never as his friend, even though that is what he was. Little did Sherlock know that he had been so much more. He had always believed that emotions were useless, mostly due to his horrible upbringing, but the separation had opened his eyes. He was in love with John Watson. This only served to make the separation that much more difficult for him.

Within a few more months, he had almost completely wiped out Moriarty's web of accomplices and he couldn't wait to return to his blogger. It was the day he returned to London that he found John in tears and confessing his love to him-well his grave. It made his heart break, and he yearned to return to 221B. According to Mycroft, though, he had to wipe out the assassin still targeting John.

A week later Sherlock was at the doorstep of 221B Baker Street. His hands quivered slightly as he unlocked the door. He knew that John was at work, and he was intending to surprise him. Once he'd entered, his eyes swept across the flat and he noticed the fine layer of dust that covered the place as well as the fact that everything was in the same as it had been months ago.

Sherlock stalked to his old room and quickly deduced that John had been sleeping in there. It was the only room without dust, not to mention that the bed wasn't made and John's clothes were in the drawers. It was as he was looking at the room that he heard the door open and close. He dropped the medical notebook he was perusing on the dresser.

Quietly, he made his way to the lounge room and noted that John's back was to him. After taking a second to steel himself, he cleared his throat. John tensed and slowly turned around. His eyes widened and he froze. They stood in silence for nearly five minutes before Sherlock cleared his throat again and asked," John?" Suddenly, everything started to move again.

Before he could even blink, John had crossed the room and Sherlock could feel a searing pain in his right cheek. It took him a few moments to process that John had punched him. Another few moments registered that John was jumping at him again and that he was shouting. He was pushed to ground with John on top of him. "How could you, Sherlock? Where have you been? Do you know what you did to me? How...how are you alive?"

Sherlock managed to get out a few words," It's a long story, and I know you have a lot of questions, but I would prefer it if we could continue this discussion on the couch." John blushed a deep red when he realized what position they were in and started to get up. When they were seated properly, he continued to speak," Before you start asking questions, please let me explain. I had to fake my own death because Moriarty threatened to kill you, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade. While I was away I was taking care of his accomplices..."

John listened to the story, but silently he was boiling. Even if he did have a better understanding of what Sherlock did he still didn't know why he couldn't tell John. "...and I had Molly help me with it. " That was enough to make John snap.

"What about me Sherlock? Why couldn't you tell me about your plan? Do you even know what your death did to me? I didn't leave the flat for a month, and I probably would've starved had it not been for Mrs. Hudson. I was alone, completely alone! I had no one to talk to and I almost wanted to kill myself! Yes, I nearly committed suicide. Then, a week ago I went to your grave and..." he trailed off as the blood drained form his face. "You were there weren't you." It was a statement more than a question.

"Yes, I was John. And I am so sorry for what I put you through," Sherlock stated, but the he got slightly timid," John, I didn't know you felt that way, but I feel the same way about you." John was so surprised that he couldn't react, but he quickly responded when Sherlock kissed him.

The kiss started slow and sweet, but it communicated all of their emotions. The pain, sadness, desperation, loneliness as well as the love, and relief. Things quickly started to escalated and John tried to deepen the kiss. Sherlock opened up to his tongue and moaned when their tongues touched. Once again John pushed him down and straddled his waist. Their shirts were quickly shed, but Sherlock pulled away when John reached for his pants button.

"John, I want you to know that I do love you, but I don't want our first time to be out of desperation. I want to do it right."

A huge grin spread across John's face and he leaned in to peck Sherlock's lips. " You said it-that you love me. I love you too-so much. And your right, now's not the time."

They both sat up and caught their breath, but they stayed wrapped around each other. They both knew that there were still things to be explained, emotions to be dealt with, and relationships to be repaired, but that was tomorrow's problem. For the moment they were both content with being together.

So it wasn't my best work, but I tried to save it. Anyways, review and leave me prompts for more stories, but only johnlock please!