Title: You Have To Be Hot To Get Lucky (And Get Lucky To Be Hot)
Author:
puckkit Rating: PG
Pairing/Character: Cobb/Arthur, some Cobb/Mal
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the movie Inception, therefore all of this is false and made up from my charmingly eccentric imagination.
Author's Notes: Written for
this prompt at the
inception_kink meme. 5 Times someone else hit on Cobb and the one time Arthur did.
1-
They were in a dream that was one of the most confusing that Arthur had ever seen- and he had seen a lot. Currently he was standing in the doorway of an incredibly beautiful conference room that had no ceiling and a table made of eels- literally eels, all writhing and moving around but still holding their position as a table. It was... eerie.
Beside him was Mal, lounging in the doorway as well, as they watched Cobb and the mark talk at the far end of the room. Cobb gazed out the window at a swarm of seagulls that were flying in the shape of a giant fish. The mark, however, was staring at Cobb and only Cobb.
Arthur couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he was getting the idea loud and clear.
“I can’t believe this,” he muttered, glancing over at Mal who looked supremely amused. “Can you believe this? Leave him alone for two seconds and look at this.”
The mark, an older red-headed woman with knowledge of her husband’s work (such as the inner workings of an intricate fraud he was running) leaned over and gently grabbed onto Cobb’s elbow, stroking the suit with her thumb.
“I mean, he’s married. To you! He’s wearing a wedding ring!”
Mal smirked and shrugged, putting her finger to her lips to keep Arthur’s voice quiet.
“This doesn’t bother you, does it? How can this not bother you?”
Mal shrugged again and turned her attention back to her husband and the mark. The woman was now running her hand lightly down Cobb’s arm and back up, leaning into his personal space. Cobb continued to stare out the window, occasionally looking over to smile at her or say something of particular importance.
“This is ridiculous,” Arthur put his hands in pockets, then pulled them out. Unbuttoned his vest, looked up, buttoned it back up. “We should put a stop to this. The woman could be crazy, she could be planning something- we don’t know.”
Mal gave Arthur a look- a look that said more than an entire conversation. From what Arthur could decipher, he read disapproval, approval, amusement, and something resembling marks will do what marks will do.
Arthur frowned. Marks would not do whatever they wanted on his watch.
Just as he was going to say something, however, Cobb walked past them both with the mark on his arm. Giving Mal a smile, he patted Arthur on the chest and murmured in his ear, “she keeps her secrets... close to her chest” before they walked past the two.
Arthur watched them saunter down the hall and turned to hiss at Mal, “did you know about this?”
Mal simply took the envelope out of Arthur’s pocket and opened it, gave it a quick once-through and replaced it in the pocket. “Your loyalty, while admirable, is somewhat unnecessary right now. No matter what you think, we are not ‘whoring Cobb out’ to get the job done, we are simply... playing to our strengths.”
And with that, she took his arm and led him sputtering down the hall after Cobb.
2-
“Ok, this time we apparently are whoring Cobb out to get the job done?” Arthur asked, sitting on the hotel bed as Mal fawned over Cobb, who was seated in front of a large vanity.
“Not precisely,” Mal murmured, carefully applying a layer of eyeliner and then smudging most of it off. It wouldn’t do to be too obvious. The goal of makeup was to enhance without showing that you were trying to enhance.
“But pretty much,” Arthur grumbled, throwing himself down on the bed melodramatically. He laced his fingers over his chest and looked over as Mal gave Cobb a soft smile, carefully adding some grey eye shadow.
It seemed incredibly intimate to Arthur, and as he watched, Cobb leaned his forehead towards Mal and she leaned in to meet him. She whispered something quietly that caused Cobb to smile and bring his hand up to her cheek, stroking gently.
Arthur swallowed hard.
It served him right for getting so involved in something that was so perfect already. But he knew- if he could move on, he would’ve done so already.
He looked away, settling his gaze on the ceiling.
It was admirably blank.
3-
The next time, they aren’t even anywhere near a job. In fact, they’ve just finished a job, and for once- Cobb was with Arthur and they were getting a celebratory beer. It was nice, normal, it was... perhaps too normal.
Cobb got up to get them both a drink and on his way back, apparently got caught up in a conversation on something fascinating because Arthur could see both their drinks and after about five minutes of watching as the condensation dripped over Cobb’s fingers, decided Cobb might need some help.
Apparently Cobb was in the middle of explaining “I’m honestly really not interested, but I appreciate the compliment” and the other guy, on a completely different page, was cutting him off by saying, “damn, you have a great set of legs- what time do they open?”
Arthur was unimpressed.
He walked up to the two, took his drink out of Cobb’s hand and gave the other man his best now is not a good time, and, actually-you know what? There is no better time. Mess off look (which, he was aware, was a big message to cram into a look, but if Mal could do it...)
Cobb took the escape offered, and turned away quickly, basically running to their table and hoping that Arthur didn’t get into a death match with the other man. Arthur considered it, loosened his tie purposely, but the other man had apparently gotten the (not-so-subtle) hint and backed off with a wary smile.
“I’m impressed with your skills.” Arthur remarked as he settled himself back into his seat. Dom was already halfway through his new drink. “Maybe you could teach me a few things about getting unwanted attention from the masses?”
“Arthur?”
“Yes, Cobb?”
“Now would be an excellent time to shut up.”
Arthur nodded and took a sip of his drink.
“... Noted.”
4-
They were in the warehouse, going over plans for their upcoming dream thieving. Arthur was sitting at his desk looking over his papers; Dom was leaning over him, one arm on the desk and the other on the back of Arthur’s chair.
“There must be something wrong with my eyes,” Sam, their client, muttered. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. Cobb gave him a questioning look. “I mean, I can’t take them off you.”
Arthur rolled his own eyes, discreetly. Cobb gave their client a wan smile and looked away, leaning over Arthur’s desk to get a better look at the information he had pulled up on their mark. “So do you think-“
“Seriously though,” Sam cut him off, moving closer and coming around the desk to stand beside Cobb. “What are you up to tonight? You’re gorgeous, and from what I’ve heard... very talented.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not interested,” Cobb nodded at him and looked back at Arthur. “Do you think we really need a forger? Seems pretty simple to me.”
Arthur focused his attention directly on the papers in front of him with difficultly. “I think we can handle it with-“
Sam reached for Cobb’s elbow, “I’m sure we could find something that we’re both interested in...”
“Hey,” Arthur snapped, eyes flashing. “He said he wasn’t interested.”
Sam backed off, hands up, a disarming smile on his face. “Ok, ok, you’re taken, fair enough.”
Cobb shook his head, “I’m not... We have a job to do. We’ll meet up with you to get the mark tomorrow at 11.”
Picking up his briefcase, Sam gave them a mock salute. “11 sharp, see you then.”
Silence reigned for a few minutes as Cobb and Arthur both studied the papers on the desk before them.
“Must be hard to be so-“
“Shut up, Arthur.”
5-
They were in a bar. Arthur wasn’t quite sure why this job had them in a bar, it didn’t exactly seem necessary as far as he was concerned. The client was supposed to meet them, Arthur checked his watch, five a half minutes ago.
He hated tardiness.
“I’m not sure-“
“There he is,” Cobb muttered, downing the rest of his drink and heading off towards the entrance of the bar. Arthur quickly followed behind but it was fairly busy and he lost sight of him before long.
Cursing the location, and the time (who met up in a bar this late anyway?), Arthur eventually caught up to Cobb to find he was engaged with a skinny boy wearing painted-on jeans and not much else.
“You know, when I saw you from across the room I passed out cold and hit my head on the floor, so I’m going to need your name and number for insurance purposes.”
Cobb smiled, he actually smiled, but shook his head. “I appreciate the effort that line took, but I’m here on business.”
“Well I’m sure we could-“
“Cobb? I think I see him,” Arthur remarked, putting a hand on the other man’s back to get his attention and pointing to the bathroom.
“Hey, kid?” Arthur turned to the other man, eyebrow raised. “Do you like dancing? Why don’t you go dance so I can talk to your friend.”
“I’m sorry sir, we’re busy,” Cobb remarked and headed towards the bathroom, Arthur following behind.
“Y’know, Cobb, you really know how to pick th-“
Arthur cut himself off as Cobb glared at him.
“Right. Shutting up.”
-1
They were alone in the warehouse, for once, when Arthur finally got up his nerve. He looked at the little note Eames left him that said, “DO IT YOU PANSY” and the picture Ariadne drew that had two stick people labelled Cobb and Dom holding hands with a heart around them. Yusuf left a bottle of pills that read “For courage” on the label but Arthur decided to leave those in his desk drawer. You just never knew with Yusuf.
He pocketed the two (legal) reminders of what he had to do, grabbed his coat and stopped by Cobb’s desk and leaned against it in what he hoped was a casual way.
Cobb didn’t look up.
Arthur cleared his throat and was rewarded by Cobb looking up at him over his reading glasses.
He swallowed.
“Do you like fast food?” He asked.
“Umm... I guess so?” Cobb looked baffled, which wasn’t exactly the expression Arthur was looking for, nevertheless he ploughed through.
“Because I was thinking you could be Dairy Queen and I’ll be your Burger King. You do me right and I’ll do it your way... only, you’d be the Dairy King, I suppose, which doesn’t really...” He trailed off awkwardly.
Cobb stared. And blinked. And stared some more.
Arthur forced himself to be still.
Finally, Cobb shook his head, closed the book he was writing in and took his glasses off. “Your place or mine?”
Arthur stared. “Mine?”
Cobb grabbed his coat and headed for the door, looking back when he realized the other man wasn’t following. “Well?”
“Right.” Arthur grinned, sent mental thanks to Ariadne, Yusuf, and Eames (though no one would ever know about the latter) and ran off after him.