When Kurt was tired, it was more than obvious. He didn't just sleep, he knocked out cold. An earthquake during an atomic bomb explosion wouldn't be able to wake him. Kurt had just come back from a very long day at Vogue and was asleep, sprawled out, on the couch in the loft.
"Are you sure he won't get mad?" Blaine asked Rachel.
"Of course he won't!" she said. "He doesn't get mad at you for petty things, only when you sleep with other men."
Blaine glared at her.
"Sorry. But no, he won't get mad. This is just a silly prank." Rachel was armed with a can of whipped cream in her hand and Blaine, a feather. They crept up to Kurt and Rachel gently squirted the whipped cream into his open palm. "Okay, your turn," she whispered to Blaine.
Blaine gently tickled Kurt's face with the feather and, sure enough, he reached up to touch his face and smeared whipped cream everywhere. Rachel burst out laughing, but for some reason, Blaine didn't find it all that funny.
Kurt slowly sat up and tried to rub his eyes, but the white goo was in the way.
"We got you good!" Rachel yelled, still laughing.
Kurt still looked confused and exhausted.
Blaine sighed. "Come on, I'll help you get cleaned up and explain what Rachel's idea was," Blaine said. He helped hoist Kurt to his feet and led him into the bathroom, where he helped him wipe away the whipped cream from his face. The then snuggled up to his fiancée in their bedroom, with the door locked.