Chapter Text
Finland will be beautiful this time of year, you’ll love it. It’ll be just like home. The words of his academic advisor, with his conniving, tight-lipped smile and snakelike eyes, rung in his head as hail slammed onto the car windshield. His poor, poor Volkswagen Beetle struggled to climb the hill, tires screeching as they struggled to keep traction. He grit his teeth and floored it, and his car protested before finally making it onto the plateau of Piispanen University’s tiny campus. He breathed a sigh of relief, releasing his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Just like home my ass.
Of course the weather was beginning to let up only after he made the treacherous climb, but at least he wouldn’t have to walk out in too bad of a storm. As he made the drive towards Ranta Hall he watched a gaggle of students run to their next class, backpacks and hats held above their heads as if that would stop them from getting completely drenched, but still giggling with each other. Something in his heart ached when he saw friend groups like them here; it just made him miss his friends from home even more. But no, he had to try and be a free spirit and move to Nowhere, Finland, with almost 0 English speakers and weather that made him question if he even switched hemispheres. Thankfully he did have one advantage over those students: he remembered to pack an umbrella.
He locked up his mint green Beetle and booked it towards the double doors of Ranta Hall. The umbrella might have been protecting him from the precipitation, but it couldn’t do much against the wind and bitter cold. He slammed the door and caught his breath, letting the warmth of the heated facility comfort him. The hallway was dead silent, even more so than usual. He looked around nervously. There was usually at least someone here by now. Especially when finals were coming up. He shook his umbrella and linked it to his belt, the short heel of his loafers clicking ominously against the tile until he finally reached the room: 120 Ranta. Usually an Applied Sciences lecture hall, but used for Calculus II recitation at 11:00 AM on Tuesdays. It was the only recitation provided in English. After all, he was the lecturer. He smoothed out his collared shirt, a simple white number save for the red hem and frankly adorable heart-shaped buttons (which, not to brag, he had sewn on himself). He reached into his messenger bag, feeling around for his name tag, and clipped it onto his chest pocket. Martin Zambotto, Teaching Assistant.
He opened the door to the lecture hall to find it completely empty. The only sound came from the heater in the corner of the room, murmuring to itself. Bewildered, he checked his phone to make sure he was at the right place at the right time. He was actually a few minutes late. Did they not have recitations the week before finals? No, that one girl in his cohort said she had hers yesterday. Did he get moved last minute? No, his email inbox didn’t have any unread messages. I guess no one showed up. Awkwardly, he made his way to the front of the empty hall and set his bag down. He supposed it made sense. There was no quiz this week to show up for, and with this weather who would ever want to make the journey to campus if they weren’t being forced to? Although this week was supposed to be a study session, and judging by some of his students’ grades, they could have really used it. Well, I came all this way. I might as well do some studying of my own. Sitting down and propping his legs up on the desk, he pulled out his laptop and got to work on the ecology report that was due in a few days. He loved Environmental Science enough to go back and get his Master’s for it, but damn was it a pain to actually study. He sighed and begrudgingly began typing.
7 minutes passed before something stirred at the back of the room, and his eyes flickered up to see a student in a hoodie and baggy jeans standing in the open doorway. He looked around the empty room in confusion before their eyes locked. He had a name that Martin couldn’t quite place, but he was sure that he had seen him before. “Uh… terve. Are you here for Calc II recitation?” he asked, his Australian accent curving unnaturally around the Finnish greeting. The student raised an eyebrow at him. “I was, but it doesn’t look like we’re still having it.” He gestured to the vacant desks, lips curling up in amusement. “Should I leave…?” Martin rushed to close his laptop, flustered. “No, no, we’re still having it- I mean, we were supposed to. It’s just that no one showed up.” He attempted to smile away his embarrassment. “Please, sit down.”
The student muttered something to himself in what sounded like Finnish, but made his way towards the front. He seemed wholly unbothered, which eased the other’s nerves a little. As he took a seat in the second-to-front row they both unpacked their bags and set up their desks, and Martin took the opportunity to examine him closer. He was tall, but not as tall as him, with that flat straight-hair texture that most people up here had. He had downturned eyes with angular eyebrows to counteract them, and his moustache was pencil-thin. But one feature stood out the most: he looked like they could be the same age. He remembered thinking the same thing that last time he saw him, and realized that this was that one guy that came in once a month and sat in the back of the classroom with his hood up. “Tomas, right?” His suspicions were confirmed as the student nodded his head in response, absentmindedly writing something in his notebook. “Call me Tommy.” Tommy it is.
It seemed like no one else was going to show up, so Martin started going through the study guide and walking Tommy through each question. Soon the once-bare chalkboard was filled with functions and integrals and whatnot, having to be erased and written over at least three times. Tommy hung onto every word, and it seemed totally out of character for someone who showed up once in a blue moon to lurk in the back row. Martin wondered if he might be failing.
Before they knew it, an hour had passed, and their allotted time had been used up, but they had only gotten through half of the practice problems. As they packed their bags a question hung at the tip of his tongue, and as he caught Tommy’s eyes he let it slip. “How old are you?” The other man paused, opened his mouth, closed it again. “You don’t have to answer.” Martin said after a moment, embarrassment growing. Tommy let out a small laugh. “No, it’s fine, I was just caught off guard. I’m 33.” His eyebrows shot up at that. “Shit, you’re older than me! Maybe you should be teaching instead.” He expected at least a pity chuckle from Tommy, but his eyes darkened and his easy smile grew tight. The moment hung in the air for a while before Martin’s brain caught up to his mouth. Shit, he thinks I’m making fun of him, doesn’t he? “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
The air was still tense, but Tommy went back to packing his things, seemingly unbothered. “It’s whatever. I kinda get that a lot,” he mumbled. A guilty look flashed over Martin’s face, which Tommy caught, and he seemed to forgive him. “Anyway, how about you? And what the hell are you doing in Finland?” Martin slung his bag over his shoulder and laughed dryly to himself. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing, actually. I wanted to study abroad but didn’t have a specific country I wanted to go to, so my mum suggested I throw a dart at the world map and apply to whatever college was closest. Like it would be a “twist of fate” sort of deal. And my fate was twisted alright.”
The two of them walked out into the hallway, which had warmed up since he last entered, although it was still a ghost town. “How lucky,” Tommy quipped as the other locked up the room. “Well then, how has Mokka been treating you?” Martin didn’t respond, but he gave Tommy an exhausted look that he hoped would get the picture across. He laughed knowingly. “Yeah, this place is kind of a shithole, but it’s our shithole.” Martin held the door for him as he continued. “I moved here a year ago to go to Piispanen, but my family friend Erika grew up here, so I’m familiar. I’m staying with her right now.” They both paused to wince as the cold wind blasted them straight-on, although the hailstorm had moved on. Martin followed Tommy’s lead without realizing, walking away from his storm-battered car. He quirked an eyebrow and smiled cheekily at Tommy. “Soooo, is this Erika a friend or a friend? ” He rolled his eyes good-naturedly at that. “God, no. Erika’s like my older sister. Which is funny ‘cause she’s a year younger than me.”
They continued to talk as they crossed the small campus of Piispanen, talking easily like old friends. He found out that Tommy was a business major, that he was born in Estonia and spoke four languages. He talked about Erika like she raised him, and he talked about his younger cousin, Jere, like he raised him. Martin was used to carrying conversations, but he enjoyed listening to him talk; his casual inflection never changed but he could tell what he was saying meant a lot to him, even if he was trying to play it off. Come to think of it, he was sharing a lot considering they had only properly met an hour earlier. He must’ve been really thankful for the Calculus help. Before they knew it they were standing in front of Makinen Hall.
“I should get going, my next class is here,” Tommy told him, pointing back at Makinen as students passed them to enter the building. “But thanks for the tutoring, I really needed it.” A smile pulled at his eyes and his hand reached for the back of his neck reflexively, eyes darting to the side in embarrassment. “Of course, anytime!” Relax, idiot, he was just being polite. “I mean, it’s my job.” They laughed awkwardly at that before silence crashed down on them despite the rushing wind and the buzzing sound of the people around them. Martin realized he didn’t want Tommy to leave. He thought he was cool. Really cool. And he needed some friends around here.
“Uh, I can’t promise much cause I have finals too, but we could meet up sometime to study again?” he started. “Maybe you could read over my ecology report.” Martin almost missed the minuscule eyebrow raise and smile that he elicited from the other man, but they reassured him that he wasn’t being too friendly too soon. “Thanks, man, that’d be great.” Tommy put his hand out in front of him expectantly. “Here, give me your phone.” He obliged, fumbling around in his messenger bag for his phone and handing it over. Tommy typed something into his contacts and handed it back with a mischievous smile. He looked down to see what he had named his contact: “Tommy Ca$h 🤑🔥” … What?
When he looked up Tommy had already made it to the front door of Makinen, arm raised in a wave. He was about to turn into the building when he stopped, turned back, and shouted over the growing crowd of students making their way in.
“Oh, and one more thing!”
“Yeah?” he shouted back.
“I like your shirt.”
And then he disappeared into the building, leaving Martin to process what the hell just happened.
The following night, Martin found himself at his desk, poring over his work in a fugue state. The clock ticked by at an agonizing pace, reading 1:16 AM. His blinds were drawn and his lights had been dimmed, the strongest light source being his laptop staring back at him, taunting him with all the work he had yet to do. He had been working for hours, and the weight of it all finally caught up to him as he slammed his head down on the keyboard. A short burst of mashed letters appeared in the search bar, and he begrudgingly lifted his head up to delete them. As he was doing so, his phone lit up, and he reached over to pick it up. His eyes widened as he read who it was from.
Jolting upright, Martin opened the text from “Tommy Ca$h 🤑🔥”. The name still elicited an amused exhale from him at its sheer stupidity. He had met Tommy yesterday, and texted him to confirm the number, but neither of them had started a conversation yet. He really needed the distraction.
idk if your up rn but we should link to study tomorrow if your still up for it
Martin’s mouth twisted into a grimace, and he replied without a second thought.
*you’re
A flash of regret hit him, but he buried it down. If he was gonna be friends with Tommy, he was gonna have to put up with him and his pretentious essay-trained texting. The bubbles came and went, but after a minute he responded.
didnt realize i was talking to the grammar police mb 🙄🙄
Get used to it
Also, *didn’t
oh fuck off
anyway what time is good for u
Martin chuckled to himself, closing his laptop and making his way towards his bed. He could work more tomorrow. He switched the tab to his calendar app, taking a moment to decide.
How about 6? I have a lot of classes tomorrow
yah that works where are we meeting
Well the library will be packed, and we’ll get kicked out of the classrooms
we can go to my place
if thats cool with u
His eyebrows shot up at that, and he paused in the middle of changing into his pajamas. Wasn’t it kinda soon to be hanging out at each other’s houses? But he supposed that they were only going to study, and Tommy was a guy, so it wasn’t a huge deal. Right? He hesitantly typed back.
Sure. Will Erika be home?
idk depends on her work schedule i’ll ask
why 🤨 u tryna get freaky or smthn 🤨🤨
He looked at the screen in horror. That is absolutely not what he meant by that. Before his embarrassment got the better of him, Tommy’s text bubble appeared.
nah i’m js playin with u
and she said she'll be home
He breathed a sigh of relief. And Erika would be home, which meant he probably wouldn’t be murdered or anything. Not that he was too worried about that, but he still didn’t want to be a missing persons case in Finland of all places.
Great, I’ll see you then
Tommy Ca$h 🤑🔥 liked a message.
Martin shut off his phone with a click, plugging it in to charge and placing it on his nightstand. He looked out his window before closing his sore eyes and drifting off to sleep with a smile. Success.