A/N: More amazing, humbling reviews! I'm shocked and awed at your kind words! You all are truly driving me to continue this fic with a passion. So truly, thank you, especially those of you who have pointed out my mistakes. It has helped me to really polish this story. Hopefully, the story will continue to get better with the help of my new beta, UchidaKarasu.

All I ask is that you continue to review and show your support for the story. Also, I LOVE hearing from my readers, so don't hesitate to look me up on Tumblr or send me a message here. It may take a bit to respond here (I sometimes forget you can private message!) but I will get back to you.

Again, thank you, and enjoy the newest chapter of Personal Detail!

Disclaimer: Glee does not belong to me. If it did, some of the events in this story might actually happen!

Chapter Warnings: No sex, just fluff. c:

Blaine wakes up, takes one look at the clock, and rolls over to go back to sleep.

When he wakes up for the second time, he just lays there for a bit, the previous night's events coming back to him. At first he feels satisfied (A blowjob from his sexy-as-hell bodyguard? Yes, please!) before a feeling of dread overtakes him. How in the world is he going to keep that relationship professional now?

He resolves not to get caught with Kurt alone. Getting up, Blaine spies a piece of paper on the floor near the door and plucks it off the ground. In a neat, swirling script, the note reads:

Blaine –

Went last minute shopping with Carole.

Back in time for dinner.

Do NOT leave the house without me.

My dad promised to be good.

– Kurt

Blaine rereads it before glancing at the clock. 10:27. Crumpling the note into a paper ball, he gathers up his clothes and goes into the bathroom. When he comes out again, his hair is damp and unruly, and he's dressed comfortably in a hoodie from his alma mater – American University.

His stomach alerts him that he's hungry, so he ventures downstairs. Burt is nowhere to be found, so Blaine gingerly opens the refrigerator to fix himself a plate of hot leftovers from the night before. He sits at the table and eats in silence, looking about the room curiously. It's simply decorated, pictures and paintings on the walls, but still tasteful and very uniquely Hummel. Once he's all done with his meal, he washes his plate, silverware, and glass, and begins to venture throughout the house. The pictures are his primary source of focus, and he finds them to be very intriguing. He laughs at a few, wonders about the others, and eventually finds himself back on the landing at the top of the stairs. Fortunately, he's tired again, so he goes back into his room to lie down for a while.

His door opens while he's reading through a file he brought with him, and he looks up at Burt.

"I was wondering where you were," is all he says at first. Blaine smiles and shrugs.

"It's just nice, not having to work so hard. I haven't gotten to just lay in bed in…" He hesitates to say the word 'years', and instead goes with "…a really long time."

"I don't blame you," Burt says with a chuckle. "Kurt should be home soon. I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

"Thank you," he says as the door clicks shut. He flicks the folder closed and tosses it onto the nightstand, rolling over and closing his eyes. He's about half asleep when he hears a car pull up in the driveway. He listens as the door slams and then as the front door opens downstairs.

Getting off the bed, Blaine ventures into the hallway. He's halfway down the stairs when hears the voices. He's hiding in the hallway when he realizes that none of them belong to Kurt, and that they're talking about him.

" – I didn't know, because I don't like politics," Finn is saying. What is Finn even doing here? Weren't they spending Christmas Even with Quinn's parents? Blaine doesn't have time to ponder it for long, because Finn continues, "But Quinn did, and now I have to ask: Why the hell is Kurt with the President?"

"Presidential Elect," Burt corrects.

"Whatever!" Finn explodes. "Just tell me what the hell is going on!"

"I can't," he replies. Before Finn can interrupt, he continues, "I literally can't, Finn. I'm legally obligated. Kurt is, too. His job is absolutely confidential. Everything he has done legally never happened. He can't talk about it, at all. The only reason I know is because I was once a special agent, too, and I'm still legally obligated to keep my mouth shut. I'll take my dirty little secrets to the grave."

Finn doesn't say anything, so Burt continues.

"You're acting like it's so easy for him, but it's not. He calls me, tells me what's going on." He shakes his head and closes his eyes. "I never wanted this for him, but it's what he wanted."

"But why? Why would Kurt choose him? He's not worth getting killed over!" Finn practically yells in reply.

Blaine doesn't want to hear any more. He steps out and coughs, putting on his cool Politician's Face when they look at him. "If you have a problem with me, let me know. Kurt's just doing his job."

They look at him like they're slow or something, before Finn's face hardens and he steps around the couches. "All right," Finn says, his tone severe. "I don't like that my brother is risking his life for you. You're gonna make changes? Well, good. I'm glad. But Kurt doesn't have to be a part of it. You can find someone else."

After a moment, Blaine nods and straightens up. "I didn't choose Kurt," he states. "I didn't tell him to join the Secret Service. He was assigned to me, and I trust him with my life." He looks at Burt over Finn's shoulder, talking to both men now. "You worry about him – I get that, but he is really, really good at what he does, and he loves it. And I'm not about to make him abandon something he loves." He pauses, then looks back at Finn. "…Are you?"

Finn stares back, almost defiantly, but finally looks away, ashamed, before grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch. He walks out the door, letting it slam behind him. Once he's gone, Blaine messes with his hair anxiously, his gaze sliding to Burt.

"Senator," Burt begins, but Blaine instantly holds up a hand to cut him off.

"Please, just call me Blaine. I don't want to be Senator Dalton this weekend," he practically begs.

"Uh... er – Blaine," he begins again, "You're… I don't –"

The front door opens again.

"We're back!" Carole sings, lugging bags full of goodies into the house. Kurt is right behind her, carrying even more, if at all possible. "And we're all ready for tomorrow!"

"That's great," says Burt warmly, helping his wife with her bags. She talks about how great dinner smells as they make their way upstairs, leaving Kurt and Blaine standing awkwardly in the doorway.

Kurt breaks the silence as he dumps his bags onto the couch. "Was that Finn leaving?"

Scratching the back of his head, Blaine sits beside him on the floor and begins to help him sort through the bags. "Yeah, that was him."

"What did he want?"

Blaine hesitates, gazing at the canary yellow scarf that he could only have gotten for Rachel. "They know I'm the Presidential Elect."

Kurt says nothing.

"They're worried about you, that's all," Blaine persists.

The younger man rolls his eyes and gets back to sorting through gifts. "Finn needs to butt out of my life. It's mine, and they're my choices."

"That's what I told him," he offers quietly.

This catches Kurt off guard, and he looks up at Blaine. "You told him that? Really?"

God, it would be so easy to just lean over and kiss him, his lips all pouty like that. And it'd be good, too – slower and deeper than the night before.

Before he can stop himself, he's leaning in, and Kurt is, too. In spite of the temptation and the serious urge to attack the man in front of him, Blaine forces himself to stop short. Kurt whines in the back of his throat, and Blaine is so, so incredibly tempted to close the gap.

"Kurt," he manages. "Kurt, I really can't... we shouldn't..."

"That's fine," Kurt breathes, opening his eyes. "But tell me this: What do you want?"

Blaine doesn't have an answer. When he just sits there stupidly, Kurt stands up and walks away, heading upstairs. He comes back with Carole and wrapping paper, and Blaine knows he has missed his chance. Without saying a word, Blaine gets up and heads back upstairs to his room, where he lays on his bed until he's called down for dinner.

They spend Christmas Eve together in good company, eating dinner and drinking wine. As it gets later, Burt makes crab legs and they dip them in butter until their fingers are covered with grease and it takes three minutes to get the butter off. Eventually, they settle, full of seafood and Sutter Home, in front of the television to watch It's a Wonderful Life. Carole dozes against Burt's shoulder soon after it starts, and Burt doesn't last long either. It leaves Kurt and Blaine sitting side-by-side on the couch, arms and knees touching, trying not to look at one another but stealing little glances anyway.

The movie isn't even over when they wake up Burt and Carole and head to bed. Blaine changes into his pajama pants and a T-shirt, staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Kurt's already finished his nightly routine, and when Blaine steps out into the hallway, he can see that the little gap between the door and the floor is dark.

He's halfway to his room before he changes his mind and backtracks.

The door opens silently, but Kurt rolls over anyway. "Blaine?" he asks. He sounds tired, but not like he was already asleep.

"Yeah," he replies, closing the door quietly behind him.

It's really dark in Kurt's room, and he stumbles around in the dark for a second. "Over here," Kurt urges, to which Blaine replies, "Over where?" and continues stepping tentatively across the room, arms outstretched until his fingers brush across something soft and warm. Kurt's hand closes around his wrist, pulling him forward until he falls onto the bed beside him.

"What are you doing here?" Kurt asks quietly.

"I couldn't stop thinking about what you said earlier," Blaine explains. "And I made a decision."

He can almost hear the wheels in Kurt's head turning, but the younger man still questions, "Oh?"

"I decided," he begins slowly, linking his fingers with Kurt's and squeezing, "that I want whatever we have. Whatever this crazy, totally insane, dangerous thing is."

There isn't a response for a long time, and Blaine fears that he's come back to Kurt too late. Then, Kurt adjusts where he's lying on the bed so he's facing Blaine completely, moving his head back and forth in the dark. At first, Blaine's afraid that he's being rejected, that Kurt wants him out of his bed, out of this house, and then –

"God dammit, where are your lips?"

He freezes up and then laughs, taking the agent's face gently into his hands and tilting his head down until their lips brush, very gently. Kurt sighs softly, happily, and presses closer, until their bodies are perfectly aligned and they're grasping at each other, desperate for more. There's nothing sexual about this – not now, at least. Just the two of them, and their kisses. And if Blaine never gets anything more than this, he knows he would always be satisfied.