disclaimer: i own nothing except for this dumb au.


Michael stepped over the threshold of the door, and Fisk had a strong urge to trip him. However, Anna was giving him her 'do what I ask or you'll be punished' glare. Sometimes Fisk wondered why Anna hadn't gotten married yet, because that glare seemed perfect for yelling at a husband.

Michael hung up his coat, and Fisk had to notice that his coat almost looked like some sort of weird-ass cloak. He noticed Fisk gaping at him and smiled. God, did this asshole ever stop smiling? Didn't he have something to be unhappy about?

"Do you two want something to eat?"

"Sure."

"Yes, that would be fine."

Anna beamed. "Alright." Fisk had to wonder where Judith was. Probably in her room to stop herself from scaring away the guest. "Why don't you show Michael to your room, Nonny?"

Fisk grumbled a reply and started down the hall to his room. He noticed that Michael appeared to almost skip along behind him. Finally, he just had to spit out the question. "Why are you so goddamn happy?!"

Michael looked at him quizzically. "What isn't there to be happy about? I'm alive, you're alive, the sun is out, the ozone hasn't been punctured by dangerous gases, organizations to help the poor exist, you have a roof over your head-"

"I get it, I get it," Fisk said hurriedly, suddenly wondering if he could escape from being tutored by the other boy by jumping out the window or some shit.

Michael sat down on Fisk's bed the moment they entered his room. "So, Nonopherian-"

"Don't call me that."

"Isn't that your name?"

"I go by Fisk, alright?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know." Michael flashed him another far too polite smile. "So, Fisk, I'm going to be tutoring you in history and biology, since that's where your mother said you've been having the most trouble."

"She's my sister," Fisk said irritably.

"Oh..." Michael looked embarrassed. "Where are your parents?"

"Dead," he replied flatly.

"Oh...I'm so sorry." Michael looked down, having to blow a bit of hair out of his eyes. Fisk was almost transfixed by it, it appeared to have an almost purple hue in the minimal light of his room.

"Do you ever cut your hair?" He suddenly blurted out.

Michael looked perplexed at the sudden change of subject, and there was a moment of somewhat uncomfortable silence between the two, which Michael then broke by laughing. "Yes, of course I do, Fisk. Do you?"

Fisk wasn't sure whether that was supposed to be an insult or not. "Yeah, sure. Whenever I have time."

"It doesn't seem that you have much time for it. But it looks as though it was intentional, and I must say that you look lovely."

Fisk blinked at him. "Um. Okay." This was certainly even weirder than he'd expected.

"I'm serious. You look quite dashing."

"I didn't doubt that you were serious," Fisk replied, scooting away from Michael on the bed. The smile on his face was slightly scary. Honestly, could he stop being so happy? It was sort of unnerving.

Michael scooted towards Fisk, and Fisk scooted sideways, and it went on like that for the next couple of minutes. Finally, Fisk reached the edge of the bed, but apparently Michael wasn't aware of that because a moment later the pair of them went tumbling off the edge.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" The door opened and Judith entered. "Anna told me to bring you guys some fucking food or some shit, and I come into this?!"

Fisk shoved Michael off of him. "We fell off the bed."

"And what were you doing on the bed?" Judith raised her eyebrows.

Michael got up and pulled Fisk up alongside him. "My sincerest apologies. We were just going to start studying and were sitting next to each other, and we fell off." Michael didn't seem to get what Judith had thought they were doing, and gave another far too happy smile.

"Oh. Okay, then." Judith sighed and put down a plate of cut up apple. "Well, eat this shit or whatever."
"Thank you, ma'am." Michael gave a bow, and Fisk had a strong urge to hit him.

"Who fucking bows anymore?! What are you, a knight?!"

"No, I'm your tutor."

"Speaking of that, can we start already?"

"As you wish."

Fisk sighed and Michael began a lecture on whatever it was that he was supposed to be doing in history. Alexander Hamilton or whatever. Hamilton was a pretty cool guy. Had some interesting ideas, especially that one about the meritocracy and having all the stupid people not be able to work. Fisk liked that one.

But honestly, learning about him was dull as fuck. "So, do you have any questions?"

"I wasn't listening to anything you were saying."

Michael sighed. "Do I have to repeat it?"

"No, I got the basic gist. So, are you going to help me with my homework or something?"

"Not really. I look over while you do it and correct your mistakes." Michael looked far too excited about this prospect.
"Did you do this voluntarily or did Anna force you into it by paying you loads?"

Michael tilted his head sideways in confusion. "What makes you think I'm being paid?"

"Oh, you have to be kidding me! Why the hell would you get into something like this if you aren't being paid?!"

"Eh...as Hamilton believed, those who have much money already shouldn't gain more wealth, only more knowledge."
Fisk blinked, slightly confused by that statement. "Wait, what?" He swore that he'd heard Michael's last name before, and that combined with a lot of money. Sevenson... "Don't tell me your father's the CEO of that giant furniture company."

His tutor nodded sadly. Honestly, Fisk didn't see what was so worrying. Jesus fucking Christ, Michael had loads of money! He could get into whatever college he wanted and didn't have to worry about paying the rent or food stamps or any of that goddamn stuff Anna was always worrying about!

"That doesn't matter, though. Work on your homework sheet, Fisk." Michael flopped down on his back on top of Fisk's bed and appeared to be examining the stucco on the ceiling.

Fisk rolled his eyes, still somewhat disgusted that Michael would dislike being rich. If he were rich, god, there were so many things he'd do.

I'd just buy like five tubs of ice cream and all the Assassin's Creed games and just sit in my house for days. I'm going to call bullshit on whoever said that money can't buy happiness, because it looks like it sure as fuck can.

Hell, it was hard to focus on stupid Alexander Hamilton while thinking about all the stuff he'd do in his life if he were rich. Maybe that relates to Hamilton somehow. Hamilton and his stupid-ass meritocracy.

"Hey, Michael. What do you think of a meritocracy? Only the smart people getting rich and being in control."

"Personally, I think that all should be given the chance to rise to the top. Wealth doesn't equal intelligence."

"Yeah, you'd know," Fisk muttered.

Michael laughed. "Have you finished your homework sheet yet? I don't think you should talk about my intelligence before you've proven yours. Don't roll your eyes at me, that's exactly the idea behind a meritocracy, if you're so for one. Everyone's got to prove themselves." Fisk moaned and stared down at his worksheet. "Come on, you should like this."

"Shut up."

"Prove that you have more merit than me first."

"Fine." Fisk picked up his pencil and started scribbling down answers. Well, Michael was certainly...interesting. Sort of a prat, but...interesting.


can you tell that i have no idea what i'm doing