One of the Boys
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The call, when it comes, surprises him. It's Monday, not quite noon, but he's sure it's entirely too early for anyone he knows to be awake. Even so, his heart skips painfully when he glances at the caller ID.
"Mr. Hummel," Blaine answers, "Hi, I-"
"Where were you yesterday?" Burt says, cutting him off, clearly pissed despite his relatively mild tone, "You missed the barbeque."
"Oh, that. I was, uh, busy. School stuff, summer classes are starting soon-"
"You didn't call either. You always call."
Blaine shoves a hand through his hair, "Look, Mr. Hummel-
"It's Burt, Blaine. Don't play dumb with me, you know this."
Blaine nods instinctively, he does know. He also knows he physically couldn't bring himself to go, or to think about going either. He sighs, "Burt, honestly I- I didn't think you'd want me around. Not after Kurt and I- I didn't want to intrude."
There's an echoing sigh on the other end of the line. "Listen to me, you and Kurt might not have worked out, but don't you go thinking that means I don't want you around. You're one of my boys. And I expect my boys to at least call when they're not going to be where I expect them."
Silence stretches between them for a moment, as Blaine works to find his words. He settles for simplicity, "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."
"You're damn right it won't. And you're going to make it up to me. Meet me this afternoon. Come by the house or the shop if you prefer. We've got more leftovers than I know what to do with. I'll send you home with some."
Blaine nods for a moment before remembering he's on the phone, "Okay," he answers.
"And kid?"
"Yeah?"
"I expect a card."
A/N: I apologize for everything and nothing, ff that makes any sense at all.