The Uses of Sorrow, by Chibi_Lurrel (NC-17)

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Fandom: INCEPTION
Title: The Uses of Sorrow
Pairing: Arthur/Robert Fischer
Length: 6,000
Author on LJ: chibi_lurrel
Author Website: masterlist of fics on author's LJ
Why this must be read: There aren't a lot of fics that deal with Fischer during or after Inception, and Lurrel uses that to her advantage in a fabulous way in this fic, spinning a post-canon story that's as surprising as it is sexy. Arthur gets close to Fischer after Inception, and no one is innocent but everyone is unprepared. Fics where Arthur works for Saito always have an edge, but they also allow us to see Arthur effortlessly navigating a high-powered world, maybe a little too efficiently for our comfort. Watching him inhabit a persona is harrowing. When you add wide-eyed but cynical Robert into the mix, what you have is a house of cards that builds upon itself until - you guessed it.

Lurrel is excellent at giving you tons of substance between the lines of sparse, deftly drawn moments. I also love it when porn reflects something intrinsic about the relationship between the characters, and she does that so well in this fic. It's sleek and sleazy and sad and fabulous, and exactly what I wanted from this pairing.

It’s a pattern. They build a routine, and Arthur isn’t sure if he wants that, wants to rely on anything being a constant (again).

He’s going to have to leave soon enough. In a year maybe, when the job is over. He’s already too fidgety in meetings, itching for firearms and the adrenaline rush. If he could dream, he’d dream of cities and the power of his hands.

But they meet every Thursday for lunch anyway, and they fuck all weekend, for a month. Fischer is busy, often, but Arthur isn’t exactly idle.

-

It’s too easy, eventually. It’s comfortable.

Arthur can’t remember the last time something felt comfortable.

He wakes up with the hair on the back of his neck prickling and thinks about other places he has settled.

There aren’t many.

So he thinks about places he could go, maybe just for a little while.

“I’m going to have to cancel on our next lunch,” Arthur says into the phone. He’s packing idly, thinking about visiting Cobb, anything to get out of Sydney to someplace with no ice chip eyes and potential failure on his hands. Some place where he can slide back into himself to gauge if his feelings stay or live on his skin.

“Oh?” Fischer’s voice is casual, tinged with disinterest and Arthur hates that he’s so easy to play.

“Duty calls. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

“When do you fly out?”

“Late tomorrow,” Arthur says and then he proceeds to hate himself some more.

“Maybe we should do dinner tonight, then,” and it’s almost a purr, a promise, and Arthur doesn’t even try to make up excuses.

“That sounds lovely,” he says and he’s smiling. He might even mean it.

-

Arthur stares at his closet and thinks about calling Eames. Eames is the only person he knows who can get ensnared without losing himself – Arthur’s known extractors, even military operatives in the field, to get caught up. To go native. He’s deep undercover, and he knows he’s started to justify this time with Fischer, telling himself he’s earned a break, that he deserves something nice for once, something simple.

It’s so much easier to be Arthur Cohen, a warm thing to wrap around himself when he feels the isolation that comes with a mission like this. Cohen has friends, colleagues, parents, and a millionaire boyfriend.

Except of course it could never ever be uncomplicated with Arthur. He’s never had a serious relationship as himself, for one. He wonders what Arthur Cohen’s thoughts are, if he too is gripped with a heady feeling when he makes Robert laugh.

Arthur Cohen doesn’t live with the knowledge of going inside a person and twisting him into something different. Arthur’s never going to not know it when that new person is inside him.

He picks the dove gray suit and slides it on, a new, fake skin.

The Uses of Sorrow