Eli and Clare are in their early twenties. Roughly twenty-one for Clare and twenty-two for Eli, I guess.

Rating: M. You'll figure it out soon enough. ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi. Just Eli's boxers.

1. Spit it into her voicemail, a little slurred and sounding like the shot of whiskey you downed for courage. Feel as ashamed as you do walking into work in last night's clothes. Wake up cringing for days, waiting for her to mention it.

"Have you seen my left shoe?" Eli calls out to the kitchen. His eyes scan the room, and he feels confused as to where it could be because it's not his room; it's hers. He can't remember where he had thrown it the previous night.

"Check under the bed," Clare calls in from the kitchen.

Eli kneels on the floor and bends over to look under the bed, and sure enough his shoe is there. He reaches for it, wondering how she knew it would be there but doesn't question it. Instead he just shoves it on his left foot, hopping towards the door. He walks out of the room and down the hallway, smiling as the kitchen comes into view.

He watches her from behind, taking note of the way her hips are swaying softly from side to side; something she tends to do when she's concentrated on something. Clare's wearing Eli's white button down shirt, the one he uses for work, and just her panties. Eli smirks, thinking about telling her to take the shirt off so he can see her breasts once more before he goes off to work, even though he had done much more than stare at them the previous night.

She reaches up into the cupboard to grab two coffee mugs and, as she does the shirt rises up a bit exposing her bottom, Eli bites his bottom lip. She continues making the coffee and pours it into the two mugs; one for him and one for her. She starts pouring sugar and cream into hers, leaving the other black for Eli, just the way he likes it. Clare knows he's watching her, and she hums softly to herself, because last night was just so amazing, making her feel giddy inside. She was glowing and if she concentrated hard enough, she could still feel his touch.

"Are you staring or admiring?" She asks with a smile, though her back is still turned towards him.

He smirks and begins walking towards her with slow strides. "A little bit of both."

Clare turns around to face him and places a hand on his chest before he could get too close to her, handing him his coffee. They both take a sip, their eyes glued to one another's.

He's thinking about her hair; how could it be so messy and so sexy at the same time? Sex hair sure wasn't an attractive thing, though he found it absolutely adorable on her. He was the reason it was such a mess in the first place, and he felt smug because he knew it. He remembered his lanky fingers being curled in her hair for a large portion of the night before, his mind filled with too much passion to remove them.

She's thinking about his lips; how is it that they are shaped so perfectly? They were a perfect cupid's arrow, making it so easy for his lips to mold perfectly with hers. Oh, she loves his lips. And she misses them dearly, even though she had kissed him the previous night more times than there are stars in the sky.

"Shit," Eli hisses as he removes the mug from his lips, looking down at his chest, which had coffee slowly dribbling down it. He had been too concentrated on Clare and had forgotten how to drink properly.

But suddenly Clare's lips were attacking his flesh, her tongue licking up the hot liquid. Eli nearly drops his mug on the floor at the feeling of Clare's hair tickling his chest, along with her teeth, tongue and lips. She's licking her way up his chest, kissing and nibbling here and there. Her hand finds the back of his neck just as her mouth find the front, and his hand is quivering; why does the counter have to be so far away? If they were at his place he would drop the mug without a second thought to it, but they were at Clare's and he figured he'd ruin the mood if he were to break one of her mugs and spill coffee everywhere in the process.

So he tangles his fingers in her hair as she's sucking on his neck and pulls her head back, making her look up at him. Her lips are pursed and her eyes are dilated; oh god he wants her so bad.

Pressing his body against hers he pushes her backwards until they hit the counter and he hastily puts the mug down before gripping her legs in his hands, lifting her up on the counter. She pushes her mug behind her as well and reaches up to cup his face. Before she can taste his lips they are on her neck, his fingers pushing her hair out of the way.

"Eli," she breathes and her fingernails dig into his back softly when he moves his lips to her breasts softly. "You're going to be late for work."

He unbuttons his shirt that is currently hanging on Clare's shoulders and kisses down the valley of her breasts, throwing it behind him when he reaches the last button.

"Then late I shall be," he says, bringing his face up to hers and their tongues meet. He tastes like cigarettes and coffee, she notices.

Clare kisses him feverishly, her hands on either sides of his face. Eli pulls her close and presses himself to her core, earning a gasp from the small girl. One hand is pressed to the small of her back while the other is under her right leg, holding her up as he thrusts against her. He's trying to create some friction between the two, and she lets him because her mind is already falling into the depths of Elijah Goldsworthy.

"God," Clare gasps, thrusting herself against him.

"Cursing the Lords name in vein? Tsk, tsk, tsk, what am I going to do with you, Clare?" Eli grunts, his hot breath hitting her face. She glances up at him with lips parted and heavy breathing, and he nearly collapses to the ground from her stare; it's intense and corruptive and he's never seen her eyes so dark and sexy.

"Anything you want," she replies in a whisper, her words dripping with lust.

Eli moans and lifts her from the counter, dropping to the floor and laying her down. His hands are already on the button of his pants, undoing it and unzipping the zipper as fast as his hands would go. He pauses briefly when he notices her hand slipping down her exposed torso and further down south. He holds his breath as she begins to softly rub herself over her panties, and for a moment he contemplates just watching her, but when memories of last night begin flooding his mind he grabs her leg and pulls her towards him roughly. A laugh bubbles from her throat and fills the room, bouncing off the walls and into his ears, earning a lazy smile from himself.

Clare sighs and watches as he pulls his pants down, "God, you're so sexy. Have I ever told you that before?"

Eli smirks and tugs his boxers down, "Once or twice."

Her panties are next and she lifts her bottom to help him out, bringing her hand up to run it through her hair. He leans over her and places his hand beside her head as she stares up at him. She watches as he looks down and aligns himself at her entrance, staring at him with admiration. The way he bites his lip in concentration is mesmerising.

She moans softly as he slides into her, gripping his arm with one hand and hip with the other. He begins to thrust into her and start a steady rhythm between them. Leaning down to place his lips on her neck, he moves his hips according to her moans, trying to please her as much as he could while still pleasing himself. His teeth are nibbling on her neck when he hears her sigh softly, and he could tell she was about to speak, because that certainly wasn't a pleasure filled sigh. That was a I've been thinking too much kind of sigh.

"I think you're amazing, Eli," she says, and continues, "I think you're more than that, actually. I think you're incredible."

Eli lifts his head to kiss her lips and leans back to stare into her eyes, his hips slowing down softly. He begins to let himself be consumed by the amount of passion she is giving him, and opens his mouth to let her know how he feels at that exact moment. It's a simple three letter worded sentence. He's sure it was the right time and he's sure she would respond with the same three words, but he closes his mouth and kisses her instead.

And he hated himself for missing his chance.

Walking out of the elevator and towards his desk he ignores the stares from his coworkers. They stop what they are doing and stare at him as he walks past them, their eyes scanning up and down. He's late, but that's not all. Some notice the hickeys on his neck, some notice the way his hair is tousled, and others notice the way his smirk is smugger this morning.

Because Eli Goldsworthy is in yesterday's clothes.

He stares at his phone and bites his bottom lip softly.

Eli's sitting in his recliner chair at home, the hockey game on TV, a glass of whiskey on the table next to him. And yet, his eyes are glued to the phone on the coffee table. He's been staring at it for ten minutes now and hasn't had enough courage to pick it up and dial her number yet.

It's nearly two in the morning and he knows she's fast asleep, which is probably the best time to do it. This way she won't have the chance to respond negatively right away, which will give him enough time to think of an apology if needed be.

Taking another shot of whiskey, he picks up the phone and dials her number. His palms are sweaty and he waits for her voicemail.

You've reached Clare Edwards. Sorry I couldn't answer your call but I'll be sure to get back to you. Leave a message. Bye!

The beep rings in Eli's ear and he's speechless for about three seconds before he realizes what he called her for.

"Hi," he breathes into the phone. "I have something to tell you."

His mind is twisting and his heart is racing and he knows he doesn't have much time, so he figures it's best to just spit it out.

"This won't be the last time," he slurs into the phone, and continues, "but I just wanted to tell you that I love you. You're probably sleeping right now, but when you wake up tomorrow and listen to this, I'll still feel the same way. I hope you know that, Clare. I love you."

And then he hangs up.

He stares at the phone with a monotone expression before it dawns on him.

"What did I just do?"

It had been three days before Clare had brought up Eli's drunken voicemail he had left her. He was beginning to think that it didn't work and she hadn't received it, and he was slightly relieved because that meant he would get a second chance. But as they sat outside of The Dot drinking coffee, she had brought it up and Eli cringed.

"Did you mean it?" She asks, and Eli picks at the cardboard cup in his hands. He nods once, his eyes focused on the drop of coffee spilling from the lid. "You said it wouldn't be the last time."

He clears his throat and says, "I figured once wasn't enough."

She waits for a second and stares at him. He makes the mistake of looking up at her because she's staring at him with such intensity that makes him want to curl under a rock. He's not sure if she's going to break up with him or kiss him until he forgets his name. He'd rather the ladder.

"Well?" She speaks up. "Are you going to say it again?"

He looks up and sees the tiniest smile on her lips and that's when he knows they'll be okay. He gains more confidence and sits up straighter.

"Not today, love. I'm quite spontaneous, and I think I'll say it when the time is right."

"When will the time be right?" She asks.

He grins," Only time will tell," and brings the cup of coffee to his lips.