Around four in the afternoon on day two, Harry was dropping kisses on Louis' chest and heading downwards when he abruptly stopped.
“I can move back here,” he said, propping himself up on the mattress with his hands.
Louis' eyes popped open and he looked up at him, totally lost. “What?”
“For a while,” Harry continued, the idea taking hold. “Hang out with my mom. Work on my script. Be with you.”
Louis had already resigned himself to the fact that this weekend was a crack in the space-time continuum that would soon close, sending him and Harry back to their respective, very different lives. It would be a memory that would keep him warm when he was an old, old man – that time one of People’s 50 Most Beautiful had kept him on his hands and knees for two days straight.
He wasn’t so stupid as to hope for more.
“You’re crazy,” Louis scoffed.
Harry’s eyes shone. “Am I?”
A few weeks after Louis and Harry, *ahem*, reconnect at their high school reunion, Harry temporarily moves back home. Louis isn't sure he has the emotional fortitude for a prolonged fling with the man of the dreams.