#modern day students jayvik be upon ye? i guess??

[jaskwritesthings]

"What's the word I'm looking for that means cleaning tool for dishes?" Jayce asks as soon as the call connects, he's conscious only by the divine right of coffee and anxiety and he's standing in middle of Tesco under too bright fluorescents at three am about to have a sobbing breakdown because his brain can't remember the word he's looking for, so he can ask one of the barely awake night shift where they are without looking like a complete fool.

There's nothing but silence for a beat which he expects when calling Cait at - as Vi would call it - ass o'clock with the most insane question. She's judging him, he can tell.

"Sponge," comes the very not-Cait voice in answer. It's deep, accented, alarmingly familiar in a way his brain can acknowledge but can't put a memory too, and sounds absolutely baffled by the situation.

Between one second and the next he realises that while dialling Cait's number from heart is practically muscle memory at this point, those muscles are exhausted and on strike after two days straight of lab work. He has not dialled his best friend, he has in fact dialled a complete stranger at three am with the most insane question he is now realising he could have just googled.

"I need a nap," Jayce mutters staring into the void of the florescent nightmare space that is the pasta aisle of Tesco.

"Yes, it would appear so," the voice responds, managing to fit so much sarcastic judgment into those accented words. It turns exhaustion into indignant rage so damn quickly Jayce is surprised he doesn't break a law of physics by gluten-free spiral pasta.

"Listen here-"

"I am forced to listen on account of you called me," he interrupts.

"I was trying to call my best friend-"

"Who I am evidently not."

"To ask for help-"

"Identifying one of the most common household objects known to man?"

"I haven't slept in two days! It was a simple mistake! You don't have to be a wanker about it!" Jayce yells and his words echo through the nearly empty supermarket.

"Apologies," he says, and it sounds genuine enough that Jayce's rage flees just as quickly as it arrived.

Jayce tries to run his free hand down his face and nearly knocks himself out with the overstuffed basket, he almost breaks down in tears again, "I'm sorry I yelled, thank you for your help." He says because his mother raised him right, and he's not convinced she won't sense him being impolite as the distance shrinks between them.

"Of course..." There's a quiet uncomfortable clearing of the throat across the tinny line, "Though may I offer some advice? The old stereotype of an overworked student is not something to aspire to, care is more ideal," his stranger offers gently.

"Do you take your own advice?" Jayce asks teasingly, he did pick up a strange call at three am after all.

The chuckle that fills his ear holds an all too familiar exhaustion, but it is warm, "Not as often as I should."

"My mum's visiting tomorrow...today?" Jayce says, not quite ready to say goodbye to the sarcastic man keeping him from bawling in a Tesco that has probably seen its fair share of student breakdowns over the years.

"Ah...and you do not have the basics that all adults should have," the voice fills in, clearly putting two and two together and coming up with numbers that don't vibrate like Jayce is currently seeing. He's pretty sure the pound sign should not be attempting mitosis right now, he's definitely had too much coffee or tea...he vaguely recalls switching to Monster at some point and that was probably the red flag he should have paid attention too.

"Not to her standards," Jayce mutters because he doesn't understand what the difference is between olive oil and vegetable oil, they're both oil? He'd said that to his mother once and she'd looked at him like he was trying to declare a war in their family kitchen.

"I do not know the difference either...perhaps it would be wise to take her out for dinner? As a treat," the man says and Jayce realises he said all of that out loud.

"Probably a good idea," Jayce grumbles, wondering if he spent all his money only lab equipment or if he has enough to take his mother to a decent restaurant.

"I shall leave you to your shopping," the man says and Jayce is struck with the urge to keep him, cling to this warm voice in the middle of Tesco for life. That could be the exhaustion speaking but Cait is always saying he needs to socialise more.

"What's your name?"

"It's Viktor."

"I'm Jayce."

"I know, get some rest Jayce," Viktor chuckles as he hangs up before Jayce can ask for a last name or a beacon lit in the middle of town to unite them once more. Jayce looks at the dark screen of his phone in his hand for longer than he should and wonders if he hallucinated the call.

He leaves Tesco without the sponges and heavy heart.

It's not until a measly five-hour nap later and going through his phone contacts that he realises he dialled the engineering department's teaching assistant on automatic after staring at the man's contact details for the better part of a two day back and forth email argument over his maths.

He's still not sure if he wants to marry Viktor for his beautiful equations or strangle him with the school mandated cravat. Maybe he can convince the man to show up at his rented lab space for tea.