John groaned as long fingers slipped across the soft skin of his naked waist and strong arms wrapped around him.
He dropped his head back against his lover's chest, sliding his own hands along the bare arms that engulfed him.
"I missed you so much." the dark baritone voice purred, smooth as silk, in John's ear.
John's breath hitched and the arms tightened, grounding him; holding him close; keeping him safe.
"Three years." the doctor said, voice trembling with the memories of grief. "Three years, Sherlock."
The taller man briefly loosened his hold and turned his lover towards him.
As John raised his face to Sherlock's, the detective noticed a traitorous tear slip down his cheek.
"I am so sorry, John." he said, lifting his hand to sweep away the droplet.
John leant into the touch, wanting more contact; more Sherlock.
"I thought I'd never see you again." he murmured, snaking his hand around his lover's neck, pulling him closer.
Sherlock lowered his head to John's, taking his lips in a long, desperate kiss.
A kiss of loss; of passion.
Three long years of lost time.
A thousand days of mourning.
Twenty-six thousand hours of heartbreak.
One-and-a-half million minutes of not knowing.
As they both parted, sobbing, Sherlock pressed his cheek to his lover's and whispered.
"I will always come back."