Author's Notes: this is dedicated to the only redhead in the world greater than Rose Dawson – my friend Ella – who is also the only girl I know that calls this movie "Put-Your-Hands-On-Me-Jack-Titanic".
"Ah – look what we have here?" Jack's voice resonated softly between the hushed dusts of the boxes. He never let go of her hand, pulling her through the mazes of rope and old packages. She laughed slightly, her red hair cascading over her shoulders as she was led forwards. He turned to glance at her every now and then, his blond hair falling over his eyes as he turned his head.
He stopped short, pulling Rose to him and leant a bit closer to see if he could see his reflection in the shiny polish. He could. The magnificent carriage was something that Jack had only ever seen in the streets, with glamorous, wealthy people inside who would look at him like he was nothing. He'd certainly never been inside one before.
Jack let go of her hand, and touched his fingers to the cool, gleaming surface. Behind him, Rose took a step forward and entwined her fingers behind her back. She cleared her throat. Realising what she was doing, he played along, opening the door for her and putting out his hand. She grasped it, and stepped daintily into the carriage, with an ease borne of long practice.
"Thankyou," she said, haughtily, looking at the fine, leathered interior as Jack gathered back his coat tails and took his position in the driver's seat. Putting both his hands on the wheel, he lifted his chin, trying to look important and sophisticated as Rose pushed down the glass window between them. He pressed a hand to the horn, honking it twice while Rose giggled at the echoing blasts.
Throwing his head back again, he added in a posh accent, "Where to, miss?" He leant his shoulders back to hear her response. She put her lips next to his ear to whisper her destination; "To the stars." He smiled, as she started laughing, and then put her hands under his shoulders and pulled. She stepped back into the seat, dragging him with her, until he half-slid, half-fell into the carriage. Jack landed perfectly next to Rose on the seat, wrapping his arm around her shoulder while she pulled on his coat with her fingers to bring him closer.
He touched the hand holding her coat, intertwining their fingers together, looking straight into her eyes all the while. Stoking his fingers, she looked back into his eyes.
"Are you nervous?" he asked her softly, raising his eyebrows for a second. Shaking her head the tiniest bit, Jack smiled she mouthed the word 'no', letting her head rest gently on his shoulder, she brought his fingers to her mouth, kissing the middle one, and then the others, and then wrapping her hand around all of them.
Barely audible, she whispered, "Put your hands on me, Jack." And never taking her eyes off his, she gently guided his hand to her breast. As his hand touched the fabric of the dress that covered her skin, he leant forward to kiss her lips. Parting them with his tongue, Rose gasped into his mouth, partly from the fact that Jack had just slid his tongue into her mouth and partly because his hand was palming her breast as he kissed her.
Gasping slightly, she moved her hand around to his shoulder, and then to his back, pulling him down on top of her as she slid so she was lying down on the leather seat. His right hand never left her chest but his left touched her hair, her face, her throat, everywhere it could reach. Rose moved her hand from on top of his jacket to under it, sliding it off one shoulder and then the other. Moving one arm and then the other from the sleeves meant that he had to move his hand from her breast. As soon as the coat had fallen off his back, she caught his hand and pushed it back onto her, eyes never leaving his. Then his other hand began to fumble with the clasps on the back of her dress. A slightly nervous smile tugged at his lips as Rose's unsteady fingers began to undo his shirt buttons, pushing the material away from his body and running her hands all over his warm chest. At almost the same time, Jack had finished with the clasps and was pulling her dress off her. He silently thanked the fact that she hadn't bothered to put on a corset after he'd finished drawing her, and that her skin was almost totally bare underneath the dress that they were both struggling to remove from her. He put his lips back to hers, touching her lips with his tongue, feeling her tongue move against his and he leant back a little to sit up. Not wanting to lose the contact, Rose sat up with him, feeling Jack's fingers snaking around her wrists, lifting them above her head so that he could pull the dress over her head and off. He threw it behind him, and it landed half over the driver's seat where he had been sitting. Eyes glazed with lust at the sight of her bare breasts, Jack dropped his mouth to her chest, kissing a trail down the warm, bare skin, sliding his fingers under her breasts, mouth teasing. Stretching her hands down as far as she could reach, she felt around with her fingers, causing him to groan quite a bit, before she found the buttons on his corduroy trousers. Undoing them one by one, she started pushing them down his hips until she couldn't reach down any further, and was happy to just let her mouth fall open in moans of pleasure as he continued to ravish her breasts with his tongue.
He began to trail small kisses in a straight line down between her ribs, down to her stomach, stopping briefly at her bellybutton and earning him a soft giggle, down to the line where her skin met her undergarments. Slowly, he hooked his fingers under the band and dragged it down over her waist, her hips and then over her silky thighs, down her legs and off over her pointed feet. His breath caught in his throat as he saw Rose completely naked underneath him.
"Beautiful," he whispered, just loud enough for Rose to hear. She smiled, running her fingers through his hair, and then over his chest, and then dropping her hands to pull the rest of his clothing away from his body. "I love you, Jack," she whispered in his ear, kissing his neck and moaning at the same time as his finger lightly stroked across her stomach. With a slightly nervous smile, Jack pulled back to look into her eyes. "Rose … what should I do first?" The ghost of a small smile pulled as Rose's lips as she answered in a murmur, "Put you hands on me, Jack." He smiled into her neck, and watched as she pulled his hands back onto her breasts. His hair fell over his forehead as he positioned himself above her, his hands resting on the carriage seat to hold himself up. She gathered her arms around his waist a second before he hesitantly pushed himself inside of her. Her eyelids fluttered closed and her mouth fell open as the first waves of pleasure washed over her. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep herself from crying out, knowing it would draw attention to the two of them; something neither of them wanted with Lovejoy on the prowl and Cal on the warpath. Jack grinned slightly as he held himself above her, sweat beading on his brow as he tried to control himself. She dig her fingers into his shoulders, and he looked down at her writhing beneath him, slightly unable to believe that he really was here with her.
All too soon, Rose felt the waves of total bliss rising within her, and throwing caution to the winds she half-moaned, half-screamed as Jack took her to the stars. She threw out a hand, catching it on the steamy glass and dug her palm in, trying to stop herself. She felt his mouth on hers, salty, trying to silence her. She smoothed down his damp hair and gasped to catch her breath, Jack lying his head on her chest. She touched her fingers to his face.
"You're shaking," she whispered, concernedly.
"I'll be alright," he told her, kissing her forehead. They lay in each other's arms, content and happy, and then Rose dropped her chin to take his mouth, running her tongue along his lips and opening her mouth to let his tongue touch hers.
And in that moment they both knew that the kiss stood for everything they had come through, and everything that they had yet to overcome. But Rose knew that this time, they would triumph together. It stood of the time he had rescued her from plunging into the ice-cold water when her red shoe had slipped, for when he had caught her when she had fallen trying to stand on her toes, for when he had kissed her hand before dinner, for when he had told them to 'make it count'. It was for when he had pushed her into the window room and told her that she was a fantastic woman, for when he had joked that her engagement ring would send her to the bottom of the ocean, and for when he had blushed as she had taken off her clothes.
Jack held onto the beautiful woman beneath him, kissing her and thinking about when she had told him his sketches were good, the look on her face when she had asked him to draw her, the moment she had turned her head when they had been flying together on the railings and the sound of her amusement as she had laughed at him for shaking hands with the air. As he deepened the kiss, tilting her head, he remembered her expression as she had watched him spit over the edge, the way the necklace sat over her chest when she was lying on the couch and most of all, he thought of the moment that they had first met, and when she had looked into his eyes for the first time.
… and if I had enough time on my hands I would continue the story right up to the point where the lifeboat pulls both of them out of the water alive, and they refuse to let go of the other's hand, and they both give their names to the woman with the clipboard, the Statue of Liberty in the background, before disembarking and living together forever. The end.