Author's Notes: Takes place during OotP, so Harry is only 15 years old (though it's more pre-slash than anything).
Harry always jolts awake hours too early for breakfast to be even a distant thought, but he never tries to fall back asleep, anticipating what awaits him elsewhere. He traverses the creaky steps down through Grimmauld Place, certain that the darkened kitchen below only appears empty. Harry's thoroughly aware that he isn't the only person here who has to routinely escape from nightmares.
Even after weeks of this, shared comfort still feels new to both of them, and Sirius lets himself get particularly caught up in it. A hug inevitably morphs into Harry being pressed proprietarily into the table, but Sirius' lips remain teasingly out of reach. They stay like that, barely touching but undeniably intimate, until Sirius eventually forces himself away, trying to convince Harry (and himself) that to do anything else would be wrong.
Harry lets him go, knowing that he'll always have tomorrow to change Sirius' mind.