A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who's reviewed or commented. And special thanks to those who caught my slip-ups in the last chapter. I self-beta so sometimes I miss things.
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).
Castiel smiled as he returned to present day from his memory of a first kiss with Dean. That moment had solidified his love for the hazel-eyed man at that moment. Social convention, the expectations of his brother, the unwelcome advances of Lucifer – none of it had mattered when his lips had touched Dean's. He'd been raised to believe what he was feeling was wrong but nothing had ever made more sense – felt more right. Castiel smiled wistfully as he remember the other significance of that moment.
Turning away from the bank of monitors showing the now rusted bow railing of Titanic, Castiel said, "That was the last time Titanic ever saw daylight."
Lovett nodded. "We're up to the dusk of the night of the sinking."
The ever-animated Lewis Bodine stalked forward, shaking his head. "There's Smith and he's standing there and he's got the iceberg warning in his fucking hand – excuse me - in his hand! And he's ordering more speed!"
As the men talked, Castiel ran fingers over the back of his left hand, musing over the difference between the years. Back then, his hands had been smooth and strong. Now they shook and ached and were covered in dark spots ... all the signs of age. He looked up as Lovett offered an explanation for why Captain Smith had ignored the obvious warnings.
"Twenty-six years of experience are working against him. He figures that anything big enough to sink the ship will be large enough for them to spot in time to turn. But the ship was too big with too small a rudder ... she doesn't corner worth a damn. Everything he knows is wrong."
Castiel looked back at the monitors. He'd studied all of the research done on the Titanic sinking since he'd survived it. His damnable curiosity demanding to know why. How could something so magnificent been brought so low by one lonely iceberg? Still, that night had been remarkable for more than just the terrible event at the end. At least for Castiel.
Castiel laughed as he unlocked the door to his stateroom and let Dean enter. Castiel called out to insure that Gabriel wasn't around. Dean took in the opulent surroundings, staring at the fresh flowers, the wood paneled walls and the lushly carpeted floor. It was the complete opposite of the spartan cabin he shared with Sam and Jo.
"This is the sitting room ... will this light do?" Castiel asked as he removed his coat.
Dean looked up from examining a sterling silver ashtray on the mantle. "What?"
"Don't artists need good light?"
Dean chuckled and in a forced French accent said, "Zat is true, but I am not used to working in zuch 'orrible conditions!" He twisted his expression into one of exaggerated disgust.
Castiel laughed. His heart was pounding in his chest as he watched Dean moving around the room, absorbing every detail. Dean's attention was suddenly caught by one of the many paintings Castiel had placed around the room.
"Monet!"
"Do you know his work?" Castiel asked.
"Are you kidding me? Of course I do!" Dean gazed raptly at the painting. "Look at his use of color here ... isn't he great?"
Castiel nodded. "I know ... it's extraordinary. It's what drew me to the piece initially."
Turning, Castiel moved into the closet and Dean waited just outside still in awe of the stateroom. Castiel quickly went to the safe and ran through the combination. "Luc insists on carting this hideous thing everywhere. I hardly see the point since every hotel or ship has its own secure holding. Luc is not the most trusting of individuals."
Dean glanced back toward the door. "Should we be expecting him anytime soon?"
"Not as long as the cigars and brandy hold out." Castiel murmured as he removed the ring Lucifer had given him from its box. He handed it over to Dean who took it cautiously.
"Wow ... that's nice. That's the weirdest color for a sapphire ..." Dean said, holding it up to the light and watching the rippling reflections bounce off the walls.
"Actually, it's a diamond," Castiel said.
Dean nearly dropped the ring. "A dia—holy! Cas, this thing's gotta be worth a fortune!"
"A small one, but yes, a fortune. It's a very rare diamond." Castiel said, watching Dean's face as he turned the ring over in his fingers. He inhaled deeply and plunged ahead, deciding that tonight he would simply see where the currents led. "Dean ... I want you to draw me ... like the models you drew in France ... wearing this ring."
Dean nodded distractedly as he examined the setting of the ring. "Yeah ... all right."
"Wearing only this ring." Castiel clarified.
Dean's eyes snapped to Castiel's. His smile and the light kiss Dean gave him were all the motivation Castiel needed.
Castiel retreated to his bedroom to change while Dean rearranged the sitting room to his liking. Moving the couch, Dean eyed the light critically and studied the play of shadows in the room. Making sure Castiel had enough pillows to be comfortable, Dean settled in a chair across from the couch and began to prepare his drawing tools. He sharpened the charcoal stick and tried desperately not to think of what was about to happen. He knew he shouldn't be doing this ... he shouldn't be getting so involved with someone from such a different world, but Dean was too far gone to pull back now.
The door to the bedroom opened and Dean looked up to see Castiel standing there in a rich royal blue robe that draped gracefully over his slender frame. It was, of course, of the finest silk and had intricate golden embroidery along its edges. Dean grinned as Castiel walked across the room.
"The last thing I need is yet another portrait of myself looking like an undertaker," Castiel said with a faint smile. He paused in front of Dean and held out a dime with the hand bearing the hateful ring. "As a paying customer, I expect to get what I want."
Dean laughed and caught the dime as Castiel tossed it. He watched as Castiel stepped back a few paces and took in a deep breath. His eyes widened as Castiel unbelted and shrugged off the robe. Dean tried not to stare but his eyes drifted over Castiel's body against his bidding. He cleared his throat and motioned vaguely with his hand.
"Um ... over on the bed - uh, the couch ..."
Castiel kept his features schooled as he moved over where directed. He was nervous that Dean would not find him as attractive as the others he had drawn. It made an uncomfortable knot in his stomach.
"Go ... lie down," Dean said. He watched as Castiel arranged his arms and began to 'see' his picture. "Wait .. put your arm back the way it was ... "
Castiel followed Dean's direction and set his arms accordingly. Dean's attention was not on Castiel himself, but rather on the drawing he was about to make. The lump in Castiel's gut only seemed to get heavier. He took a shuddering breath and tried to remain still.
Dean was falling into the concentration he had when drawing. The mindset where nothing else mattered but the lines of what he was committing to paper. He watched Castiel arrange himself and was fascinated by the play of muscle along his torso. He made a few adjustments to Castiel's posture and then blew out a short breath as he took in the man lying before him.
"God, you're beautiful ..."
Castiel couldn't stop the blush that flared over his face. His nerves dissipated and he relaxed against the cushions. It took some intense mental control, but he was able to stifle his body's response. He smiled shyly at Dean and was thrilled when his smile was returned.
"Ok ... eyes to me ... keep them on me, Cas. And try to stay still." Dean ordered.
Castiel took another deep breath and looked at the man he was risking everything to be with. Dean began drawing and time played out as Castiel watched the man's hand move across the paper, his charcoal scratching softly as he glanced up and adjusted a line or a shadow.
Dean was fascinated with the lines of Castiel's body. He knew Castiel swam nearly every day to stay in shape and it showed in the lean muscle and controlled strength beneath. Dean sketched the long limbs and as his drawing dipped into Castiel's midsection, he drew the faint line of hair leading down the pelvic lines. A line of heat began to creep up Dean's neck and Castiel smirked.
"I believe you are blushing, Mr. Big Artiste," Castiel teased. Dean rolled his eyes. "I can't imagine Monsieur Monet blushing."
Dean snorted. "He draws landscapes. Just relax your face, smart alec."
"Sorry." Castiel said with a tiny smile.
"No laughing."
That nearly set Castiel off again but he managed to maintain control and after another deep breath, he stilled. Dean continued drawing.
Castiel smiled at the rapt faces listening to his story. Adam was blushing and looked distinctly uncomfortable. Castiel chuckled.
"My heart was in my throat the entire time. It was the most ...erotic ... moment of my life. Well, up until that point at least."
Adam winced much to Castiel's amusement. Bodine asked, "What happened next?"
"Did we 'do it'?" Sheepish grins appeared in the group gathered around Castiel's chair. "Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Bodine. Dean was very professional."
Dean signed his initials and the date at the bottom of the picture as Castiel looked over his shoulder. Castiel was thrilled with the drawing – he could hardly believe it was really him. Dean slipped the drawing into his portfolio and handed it to Castiel.
"Thank you, Dean," Castiel said, leaning over to kiss Dean gently.
Castiel put the ring back into its box and handed it to Dean. "Will you put this in the safe for me, Dean? I'll get dressed."
Dean nodded and walked back into the closet. As he tucked the box into the safe, he noticed the bundles of cash on one shelf and blew out an impressed whistle. "Must be rough ..." He walked out and watched the clear night from the private promenade deck as he waited for Castiel. His thoughts sped around in his mind like a whirlwind. He could not imagine anything better than the hours he'd spent so far with Castiel. If he hadn't been certain before, Dean knew now that he was in love with the young Novak. He sighed and turned from the window to walk back into the stateroom. He blew on his hands to warm them as Castiel walked out of the bedroom.
"It's gettin' cold, Cas. Hey, you look handsome," Dean said, smiling at the simple grey suit Castiel had opted to wear.
Castiel smiled back and was about to reach for Dean when a knock sounded at the door and Zachariah's voice came through the wood.
"Mr. Novak?"
Castiel grabbed Dean's arm and jerked him from the sitting room into the bedroom. Softly closing the door behind them, Castiel shoved Dean out the door back into the hallway. Dean bit his lower lip as they walked quickly down the hall. Castiel made the mistake of glancing sideways at Dean and they both burst into laughter. Hearing a door open behind them, Castiel and Dean turned to see Zachariah emerge into the hallway. Castiel grabbed Dean's arm and yelled, "Come on!"
Dean had to admit, Castiel was certainly learning to have fun.
