Work Text:
Blaine can hear the shuffling footsteps slowly approaching before two familiar arms slide around his waist, pulling him close and Kurt's body presses against his from behind. Kurt's chin rests on Blaine's shoulder softly, and Blaine can't help but smile. He's so grateful for the little things in their life. From all of them, this one is definitely one of his favorites — sleepy, cuddly Kurt in the mornings.
“Hey, you,” he says softly.
Kurt mumbles something in response, that only sounds like inarticulate murmur, and Blaine leans his head slightly on Kurt's. “Smells like… pancakes,” Kurt says finally, his words adorably slurred, ending in a yawn.
The statement sounds rather uncertain, more like a question, and it makes Blaine frown. He blinks at the perfectly heart-shaped pancakes he's been working on for a while, feeling a little offended. He may not be the best cook in the household, but this one isn't that hard to recognize. He's actually really proud of it.
He turns his head toward Kurt to give him a questioning glance, but a soft smile spreads all across his face when he notices Kurt's closed eyes. Blaine kisses him gently on the temple, his spiked, messy hair tickles Blaine's nose. Kurt will freak out when he sees his bed hair in the mirror, but Blaine loves it — especially since he's the only one who gets to see Kurt like this.
“Have you even opened your eyes for a moment since you woke up, sweetheart?” Blaine asks, his voice is barely a whisper — he knows how sensitive Kurt is to loud noises when he's still half asleep.
“Mhm. You weren't there,” he mumbles. “Found you.”
Blaine chuckles. “Yes, you did.” He carefully flips the pancakes, just in time. He has to pay more attention, otherwise he'll definitely burn the other side. “Did you come out looking for me with your eyes closed?”
Kurt nods and buries his nose deeper into Blaine's neck.
Blaine snorts. “Good thing you didn't fall then.” A nice tingling sensation runs down Blaine's spine when he feels Kurt's warm breath on his skin, and he tilts his head toward Kurt's just a little more. “You could have slept in, sweetheart.”
“Still can.”
“Sure. Go back and I'll bring you breakfast later.”
But Kurt doesn't move. He continues to hug Blaine from behind, resting his head on his shoulder. His body soon feels heavier on Blaine's back, and the realization suddenly dawns on Blaine.
“Do you mean here?”
Silence.
“Kurt...?”
Silence.
“Kurt… Sweetheart, I don't think—”
“Smell comfy.”
Blaine smiles. “It's the vanilla, it's actually your recipe,” Blaine tells him, moving the pancakes carefully to check if they're ready.
“Mm-mm. You smell comfy. Like home,” comes the explanation, and Blaine's hand stops in midair as his heart suddenly fills with warmth, so much warmth he barely can handle it.
He pulls the pan with the food off the stove, and carefully turns around in Kurt's arms. He reaches for Kurt's waist right away to steady him, then gently pulls him to his chest. Kurt's face finds its way back to the crook of Blaine's neck and buries himself there with a satisfied hum. Blaine leans back against the counter, feeling Kurt's weight pressing down on him as he holds him tight.
The slightly burning smell slowly reaches Blaine's nostrils — the first batch of pancakes are definitely ruined. But he doesn't care anymore.
They stay like this, holding each other for at least twenty more minutes before Kurt wakes up completely.