Chapter Text
“Oh, turn it up, turn it up,” Gordy said excitedly, leaning forward from the backseat as a tight drum beat started to play.
Dhawan grinned and reached for the radio dial, turning up the volume. “Yeah, he’s a Swiftie,” he commented to Sam, who had turned in his seat to look at Gordy and recognized the breakout hit of the summer just a second before the young man started singing.
“I stay out too late,” Gordy sang happily, bopping his head to the beat. “ Got nothing in my brain.”
Chuckling, Sam watched him sing with unreserved enthusiasm.
That's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm
“I go on too many dates,” Gordy continued, grinning as he reached forward to clasp Dhawan’s shoulder, “but I can't make 'em stay.”
Dhawan let out an amused huff, looking up briefly at the rearview mirror before turning his attention back to the road, an affectionate smile on his face.
At least that's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm
Giving Dhawan’s shoulder a little squeeze, Gordy sat back and continued to sing along, shoulders weaving a little from side to side as the song shifted into a smoother melodic arc.
But I keep cruisin'
Can't stop, won't stop movin'
It's like I got this music in my mind
Sayin', "It's gonna be alright"
“Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play,” Dhawan sang, joining in gleefully for the chorus. “And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate.”
Sam made a split-second decision. “Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake,” he sang, to the boys’ delight. “I shake it off, I shake it off.”
“Whoo-hoo-hoo,” Gordy vocalized in an impressively high falsetto, and Sam couldn’t help grinning too as the boys continued singing along to the radio.
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (whoo-hoo-hoo)
The tiny car filled with their singing, the defiant tune like a joyful coda to the evening.
And what an evening it had been. Before, he had wondered if Osgood’s perspective on the family dynamic was perhaps a bit rose-tinted, coloured by her obvious adoration for Kate and her own family’s shortcomings; but he got it now.
It had been quite something to see Osgood in this new context, navigating a range of social interactions, including some fairly challenging ones early on. Which she’d done, not effortlessly, but without tipping into full-blown panic like she might have done in the past. He thought he could see a transformation happening there. He’d commented on it while they were getting the tea ready, just the two of them; Osgood had blushed, and they’d hugged. Then the doorbell had rung, and well… That had been a whole thing too.
He smiled to himself; Osgood had handled the situation well, considering. It had helped that Kate had drawn the other woman, Sophie, into the kitchen, leaving Osgood and the ex-husband to dive immediately into the conversational rabbit hole about postal services that his initial mixup had inspired, the awkwardness quickly dissipating in the face of their shared interest.
Postal services. Sam shook his head fondly. He wondered if Osgood could see the similarities between her and Paul; Kate definitely had a type. And judging by her kids’ taste in boyfriends, it ran in the family.
The apples didn’t fall far from the tree, Sam mused, discreetly observing Gordy as the song wound down.
He seemed like a great kid. Sam could see Kate in his face; the strong nose and high cheekbones, of course, but her wide smile, too, and the way her eyes conveyed so much feeling when she let down her guard. Gordy’s sister had inherited similar features, though she had her father’s eyes and a more restrained disposition. Although that might be from Kate too.
Sam emerged from his thoughts as the car slowed, turning into the station forecourt. “Thanks, guys,” he said as Dhawan pulled up to the kerb and turned down the radio. “Really appreciate the lift.”
“Least we could do,” Dhawan said brightly. “It was great meeting you tonight.”
“Yeah, it was so cool having you over, you have got to come again next time,” Gordy said enthusiastically, gripping the backrests of the front seats as he leaned forward.
“That’ll be up to your Mum and Osgood,” Sam replied with good humour, reaching to unfasten his seat belt. “I’d love to, though.”
“Yeah, of course,” Gordy nodded; then a more serious thought seemed to come to him, and he bit his lip but didn't speak.
Sam cocked his head; the young man was clearly hesitating to say something more. “What’s on your mind, mate?” he asked, opting to draw Gordy out of his indecision. He had a few minutes to spare before needing to head to the platform.
Gordy gave him an awkward smile, but the smile faded, replaced by a conflicted expression. “I know I can’t ask for details but— Did something bad happen last weekend?” the young man asked, his gaze uncertain. “I mean, I assume there was more to the phone hack thing than what the government is saying. Did it get really bad? I’m not asking as a journalist,” he rushed to add, “I’m just—” He paused, a pained look on his face. “I can tell when Mum’s been having a hard time. Even with her and Osgood getting together—” He broke off again and gave the soldier a searching look. “Did something bad happen to them?”
Perceptive bugger. Sam let his gaze flick to Dhawan, who was watching quietly, soft concern in his dark eyes. He took a breath; the kid deserved the truth, or something close to it, anyway. “Kinda, yea,” Sam answered, then winced as Gordy’s face fell and his eyes misted up. “Hey, it’s okay,” he added quickly, reaching for Gordy’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “They’re going to be okay. Your Mum and Osgood— They’re the strongest people I’ve ever known. They're going to need a bit of time, but they’re going to be alright,” he insisted reassuringly. “And now they've got each other? They’re going to be unstoppable,” he added with a wry smile.
Gordy managed a watery smile at that, and wiped at his eyes. “Yeah,” he said, his voice tight. “Yeah, they’ve got each other now,” he said, sounding like he was reminding himself. “Sorry,” he added a bit awkwardly. "Didn't mean to get all—"
“That’s okay,” Sam replied, squeezing Gordy’s hand before letting go. “You care, that’s never bad,” he added, relieved to see the young man nod and steady himself.
“What about you, Sam?” Dhawan asked quietly. “Are you going to be okay?”
Taken aback, Sam’s gaze flicked to the other young man, then back to Gordy; the two of them now looking at him earnestly in shared concern. He knew he should shrug off the question, but his chest suddenly felt tight, their concern affecting him more than he would have expected. He paused, and was considering what to say when his mobile buzzed.
Looking reflexively at the device, a genuine smile came to his lips at the text preview on the small screen; a reply to the text he’d sent earlier, when they left the house. The mental image of big ears and an even bigger smile warmed his heart, loosening the tension in his chest.
“Yea,” he said, looking up at the two boys with an easy grin. “Yea, I’m going to be okay.”
For tonight, anyway.