I didn't follow the prompt exactly, but the general vibe is fully intact.
Blaine wouldn't go so far as to say he was having the worst week of his life, but it was definitely pushing the top five. He had two papers and an in-class practical exam all due on Friday, shifts every night at the diner, a growing allergy headache from all the trees starting to bloom again, and to top it all off, had just spilled his coffee all down the front of his nice white polo, leaving him scalded and stained.
He managed to change shirts quickly enough that he didn't burn the pancakes he was making - his inner stressbaker was making an appearance, unsurprisingly - flipping the last of them off the griddle and onto a plate just as Kurt emerged from their bedroom, adorably tousled and relaxed.
Blaine was kind of jealous, if he was telling the truth. He'd been up since six after waking up with an epiphany about one of his thesis statements, and now it was pushing ten. He could feel himself flagging a little.
"Morning, sweetie," Kurt said, plopping down at the table. "Sleep well?"
"Eh, for the most part," Blaine said, figuring Kurt had probably rolled over and noticed him being gone at some point. "And I got the chance to make us some pancakes!"
"Ooooh, my favorite!" Kurt said, nose scrunching as he smiled. "Are there chocolate chips in them, by any chance?"
Blaine froze in between the stove and the table and frowned. "No, I'm sorry, I didn't think about it. They're just plain."
"Disappointing," Kurt said. He had a small smile on his face still, but Blaine thought he detected a flicker of real sadness in his eyes.
"I could always make more!" Blaine offered quickly, setting the plate on the table and making to go back to the stove.
"No, Blaine, don't bother doing that!" Kurt said, scooping a couple of pancakes off the top of the stack. "I suppose I can live with plain, much as it will hurt. Can you at least grab the syrup?"
"Oh, of course!" Blaine walked over to the fridge, only to find a gap on the shelf. "Crap, we're out."
"No chocolate chips and no syrup?" Kurt asked, frowning. "I'm pretty sure that's enough justification for a divorce, you know."
Blaine's stomach dropped through the floor.
"I might have to walk down to the courthouse on my way to class," Kurt continued, slicing off a bite of food and popping it in his mouth. "Think they do rush cases?"
"Please, baby, no," Blaine said, barely audible, before bursting into tears. "I'll go to the grocery store now, just please don't leave me. Please."
Kurt looked at Blaine, eyes wide and cheeks bulging with pancakes. "B?"
"You want fresh fruit from that farmers' market, too?" Blaine said, heading toward their coat rack and nearly knocking it over as his tears blurred his vision. "Anything you want, I swear."
"Blaine, honey, no," Kurt said, rushing over to Blaine. He grabbed the coat out of Blaine's hand and put it back on the rack hastily before taking his hand and leading him to the couch. "Tell me what's wrong."
"I'm drowning in work and my professor already told me my last paper wasn't as good as she was expecting from me and Gunther yelled at me for splitting a check wrong yesterday and now you're mad that I didn't make breakfast like you wanted and I'm just not good enough for anyone," Blaine babbled, hoping he was mostly intelligible around his sobs. "I'm sorry I'm a disappointment."
Before Blaine knew it, he was being yanked into Kurt's lap and hands were stroking through his ungelled hair and down his back. "Darling, you aren't a disappointment," Kurt said, pressing a kiss to Blaine's temple. "You're just having a rough week, and I'm sorry I added to that. I completely spaced on how busy you've been."
"You're not mad?" Blaine asked, pressing his face into Kurt's neck like he wanted to be absorbed there.
"Of course I'm not mad. My amazing husband made me breakfast without being asked when he already has enough work for four people on his plate," Kurt said, squeezing Blaine tighter. "If anything, I should be offering him whatever he wants."
"You don't have to do-"
"Nope, I've decided," Kurt interrupted, pushing at Blaine's shoulders so he would look up and see the beaming smile on his face. "My husband is to ask me for whatever favors he wants, including but not limited to meals, cuddles, and specific sex acts."
"But you-"
"And I will be legitimately mad if he refuses to comply with this," Kurt said, winking broadly in a way that even Blaine's mixed-up emotions couldn't confuse. "Deal?"
"Deal," Blaine said with a watery laugh. "I love you, you know."
"I love you too," Kurt said, pressing a quick kiss to Blaine's lips. "Now, what would you like for your first wish?"
"Do I only get three?" Blaine asked, a tiny smile breaking onto his face.
"Until your week from Hell is over, you can have as many wishes as you want - as long as they're things I can handle, like foot rubs or midnight snacks," Kurt said, smirking back.
"Can you handle taking the morning off with me so we can cuddle and watch Bravo?"
"Somehow, I think I can do that," Kurt said before pushing Blaine off to the side of him.
"Hey!" Blaine whined, startled.
"I needed to get in position," Kurt said, pulling his legs up and behind Blaine so he was horizontal along the inside edge of the couch. "Proper form is key for good cuddling, B, you know that."
Blaine huffed a melodramatic sigh before moving to lie in front of Kurt. "I suppose you're right. Just don't dump me off the couch when one of the Real Housewives says something inflammatory, okay?"
"Never." Kurt wrapped an arm around Blaine's waist and pulled him close. "I've always got you."
"Even when I don't make the right pancakes?"
"Blaine. All pancakes are the right pancakes."
"Fair point."