Knock-out

Synopsis: When the prospect of Tino being able to afford graduate school seems unlikely at best, boyfriend Alexianos does whatever it takes to make sure he finishes his education. Even if "whatever it takes" means taking a few hits.

Pairing: ArmeniaXFinland, as well as SweDen, TurkeyXGreece, one-sided RusLiet, and non-related EstoniaXLithuania (no incest!).

Rating: T…for now. ;)

A/N: Zankou Chicken is amazing. Also, again I have to thank LavenderTown's "Invincible" for inspiration. Check it out! :)

…

It pained me to see him like this.

Worn ragged from interning and exhausted from class, Tino would come home, ready to crash without a shower or a proper dinner (eating Corn Nuts in the car doesn't count).

I felt bad- as a musician, I barely made enough money to pull my own share, even with a secondary job at Zankou on the side. Which, really, paid a pittance at minimum wage. My gigs brought in a substantial amount- playing at weddings, parties, and Bar Mitzvahs- but most of our income still came from Tino's work as an intern done at the lab, and went into paying for our humble Los Angeles apartment.

But, without any loans from agencies or our distant parents, it was the best we could do- and we were nothing if not stubborn to succeed.

Tonight was another one of such nights, but Tino looked wearier than usual as we picked at some chicken breast from the restaurant- one of the few perks of work was the occasional free dinner. He sighed, staring into his water, and barely scraped at the meat's skin with his fork before setting it down.

"I have some bad news."

I frowned, nodding sympathetically. "I'd feared as much. What's wrong?"

He bit his lower lip, inhaling to compose himself before he continued. "The lab is going to start paying interns minimum wage."

Silence.

"Alex?" he asked, noticing my shocked state.

"H-how can they do that?"

He shook his head sadly. "I don't know, but they can. I'd get better pay working elsewhere, because with gas prices as they are, I'll barely make a profit of twenty dollars a day…without tax deductions," his eyes became incredibly downcast as he continued, "If I'd listened to my parents and stayed in Finland, I'd be living so well…but I wouldn't have met you." Tino smiled at me.

"You're what gives me hope, even when nothing else can."

"We'll get through this," I reached for his slightly-greasy hand, cracked from months of wearing latex gloves, "I promise. I put my gigs on hold, and start teaching piano and guitar-"

"I can't let you do that," he protested, "Alex, you already did your schooling. I can't make you wait for mine to be done."

"It won't be forever, but right now, we both are making sacrifices. I'll have a more stable income, and you'll surely find another job, as well. Besides, it's most important that you focus on your classes and papers right now, ara?"

He chuckled. "You said it again?"

"Did I? Damn!"

Though distressed, he smiled bravely. "Well, I really appreciate it. I suppose I could find some secretarial work, or something of the like. Or I could be a house-sitter, right? I was used to taking care of my siblings, after all."

I grinned, pleased that he was feeling more hopeful. "And you're gay. The forward-thinking suburban moms would love you! You should call the lab and tell them to kiss your ass if they only offer you $8.50 an hour, though. I pay twice as much!"

He swatted me on the arm in jest, laughing. "You're so cruel. I'm at least worth $25. Hey, maybe I've found a solution to our money problems!"

I wrapped my arms about him in a loose hug after depositing the dishes and cutlery in the sink. "Ohoho, but I'd get too jealous…After all, you might turn out to be a better prostitute than me!"

…

I called my agent the next morning, asking if he could come over to discuss matters. He agreed to lunch, and I busily made preparations while Tino eagerly searched for a new job, having already quit.

"Hey, what do you think of this?" he asked, "There's an ad on Craigslist asking for a 'masseur.' I think I found my calling." He winked.

"You're using Craigslist?" I laughed, "Oh, jan, have some class. At least post some sketches on Etsy if you're desperate."

"Well, how about this? There's a young couple that want a house-sitter for their daughter, and help her with her English. Ah, they said they'd prefer their sitter know Swedish or Danish for lessons. I speak Swedish!" My boyfriend grinned, "I knew it was fate that I always liked that subject in high school, even when no one else did!"

"That sounds perfect for you," I encouraged, "And the pay is good?"

"Very. And not only that, but they live a little over two miles away. I can ride my bike to their place! I'm going to call right now."

"Paljon onnea."

He grinned at me, typing in the number, as I gave the jasmine rice a quick stir, spicing the water around it with some saffron, bay leaves, and salt.

Perhaps I could take up another job cooking…well, I would have to see what Heracles said, first.

Heracles Karpusi had been one of my closest friends since college, starting from when we were roommates freshman year at Claremont. Now, he's my agent, working for a well-reputed contracting agency in L.A. He was a nice guy, though soft-spoken at first, and was pretty funny once you got to know him.

I made sure Tino's and my cat, Hana, was in the living room to greet him as he came in. The guy adored cats, and they loved him just as much. Hana rubbed his legs with her white chin as he entered, and he picked her up.

"Hi, Hana," he greeted in a surprisingly high voice that people only reserved for babies and pets. She simply purred, falling limp as a ragdoll in his arms.

"Hey, Heracles," Tino waved from the couch as the Greek entered, Heracles greeting him back, allowing Tino to continue his job searches on the laptop.

"Hey, man," I greeted, patting him on the shoulder, "Are you hungry?"

"Hmm…a bit."

"How about you, Tino?"

"I'm okay!" he called back, "I already gorged myself on some pannukakkua this morning. It smells good, though!"

"Thanks! So Heracles," I turned to my agent, gesturing to a place already set for him, with a plate of rice, chicken, and pita bread, "I was hoping we could talk about job opportunities over lunch."

"Job oppurtunities?" He furrowed his brow, sitting down. "How so?"

"Well…right now, Tino and I need a more stable income. I was hoping that maybe I could suspend my gigs for a while and start giving lessons?"

He frowned, "I'm sorry, Alex…but I just don't know how we can get your name out there without these gigs. If you fall off the radar, that could be it for you."

"Then maybe I could still teach on the side?"

"You could try, but in this economy, I have no idea how worth your while it would be. I'll put an ad out for you, but that's the best I can do."

I felt a bit deflated, but still kept my hope. "I appreciate it."

"Well," he paused, taking a furtive glance at Tino, "there is a job opportunity in Glendale I could give you. Night-time gigs, every Saturday. I'll send you a message later, if you're interested."

"Of course!" I grinned, "I'd be very interested in that. I don't work at Zankou on weekends, so that's fine. Ah, thanks so much. So, anyway…"

We continued our meal, chatting idly. Little did I know how monumentally these new "gigs" would change my life.