Just a little one shot I thought of. :) Enjoyy.

Backrub

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Knocking on Clare's door pained my knuckles, reopening the cuts. I wince, shaking my knuckle, clutching it to my chest.

"Damn Pep Boys commercials making it look like it's so damn easy to fix a tail light." I muttered, hearing the lock of the door in front of me click. Clare pulls open the door, gasping, her hand covering her mouth.

"Elijah Goldsworthy!" she shrieks. I smirk, my hand still clutching the bleeding one to my heart. One of Clare's hands comes out to grip my shirt, the other holds the door ajar.

"What the hell did you do?" She hisses, dragging me by the collar inside. Once I am in the entrance, she slams the door, leaning against it.

"Well.. you see, Morty got a cracked tail light and a slashed tire, so I had to fix it of course, and I was doing it on two hours of sleep and five cups of coffee." I say, grinning triumphantly at my stupidity. She glares, her hand pulling at my bloodied arm.

"Have you treated them? Put anything on it?" She traces her finger over my knuckles, the blood coming off onto her fingertip.

I shake my head, my eyes on her face, watching as she contemplates what to do.

She sighs, pulling me onto her couch, running upstairs into the bathroom.

"Why did you come here anyway? It would have been best for you to go and get some sleep at home." She yells from upstairs, and I hear the faucet running, and cabinets slamming.

"I came here to return the Hamlet book you borrowed two day ago." A smirk appears on my lips, as I yell up the stairs to her, sitting back into the couch. I hear her mutter a string of curses, and more slamming.

"Watch your language, Saint Clare!" I yell, and hear another slam and more curses. I grin, folding my arms, waiting for her to return.

Her footsteps become louder as she stalks down the stairs, first aid items in her arms.

I hand her the old book, watching her glare at me. She puts the book on the shelf by the television, moving back to the couch. She pulls of my jacket in one fluid motion, watching my face scrunch in pain.

"Thats what you get, you ass." She mutters, tossing my jacket to the arm chair, sitting on the coffee table in front of me. I laugh. She sighs again, touching my chest.

"Where did you hurt yourself?" Her eyes grace over my face and the cut on my cheek.

"I busted my knuckle, cut my cheek, scratched my stomach, and I'm pretty sure I have a bruise on my thigh."

She turns to her side, torso twisting to reach for a bottle of clear liquid and a cotton swab. She motions for me to take my shirt off.

"I'll heal your cheek, bandage you knuckle and stomach, but so help me Elijah, I am not touching your thigh." She glowers as I fight back a laugh.

My arms pull at my shirt hem, removing it carefully, my muscles contracting. I notice the slight blush on her cheeks and wiggle my eyebrows. She grabs my shirt, smacking me with it. She throws it behind her, grabbing the bottle again.

Clare opens it dabbing some on a cotton swab onto my knuckles. There isn't much pain, until she ties a bandage round them, making sure to tie it tightly. Tight enough for me to wince, glaring at her. She smirks, satisfied, and cleans my cheek, sticking a band-aid on it, giggling.

Her hand muffles it, but I still glare at her, wondering what she's laughing about.

"What?"

"You look ridiculous with that band-aid." She smiles as I roll my eyes. She pushes me down onto the couch, her cold hand on my chest.

"Getting excited, Clare?" A smirk appears on my lips as she blushes madly, attemping to keep her composure. She smacks my head, her hand going to the bottle of rubbing alchahol again.

She dabs some on a big piece of cotton swab, placing it on the scratches on my stomach. My muscles contract at the coldness and pain from it. I grit my teeth slightly, feeling the sensation from the open scratches. She wipes the small pieces of tar in the wound, putting a bandage over it, deciding against wrapping it. I sit back up, an idea forming in my head.

"Clare?" She packs up her items, turning to me.

"Hmm?"

"I think I scraped my lips too, and a band-aid won't do to heal it." I smirk, staring into her bright blue eyes. They roll playfully, as she leans in, placing a chaste kiss on my lips. She goes to pull back, but my bandaged hand comes to rest in her short red curls, keeping her head close to mine.

She makes a noise against my lips, her hands pushing at my chest, attempting to push me back. My other hand rests on her back, clutching her shirt. She giggles, feeling my tongue graze her lips. I pull back, a satisfied grin on my lips.

"Much better." I murmur, feeling her giggle again, standing up, gathering the first aid items. She puts them on the stairs, moving towards the kitchen.

"Do you want a something to drink? We have some frozen latte's somewhere in here.." Her voice trails off and I hear her rummaging around.

I move to stand up, rubbing my eye.

"Sounds good, do you have any whipped cream to go with it? It'll taste like that one time- DAMMIT!" As I stand up a twinge flies up my spine, shooting pain to numorous places. I feel my back twinge and I clutch it, falling back onto he couch. Clare rushes out the kitchen towards me.

"What happened? Is everything okay?" Her eyes glisten with worry. I try to smirk, my hand still on my back.

"Just a small twinge. I must have pulled a muscle when I was changing Morty's tire." A smaller pain shoots up my back again, and I grit my teeth, feeling Clare's hand on my arm. She looks as if she is in deep thought.

"Eli, lie down on your stomach on the end of the sectionial part of the couch, with no arms or back." She points to my left, her palm doing to cover her mouth in deep thought.

"What? Why?" I massage my back gently, moving to do as she says anyway.

"Well, you see, when I went skiing with my family and Darcy once, they had free massage lessons at the lodge. I attended the class and learned it. Its good for removing pain and tension." She pushes me down onto my stomach, her hand pulling my palm from my back gently.

"No, its fine, I just need some ice and a bandage-" I protest, trying to get up. Her hand pushes my neck back down, turning it to face her, so I can breathe.

"Please, Eli? Can I try it? It won't damage you any further, I promise." Her hand strokes my naked back. I shudder, finally giving in, nodding.

She giggles happily, cracking her fingers, and wiping her hands on her jeans.

I watch as she kneels on the floor beside my waist, her fingers coming in contact with my neck.

Her colds hands knead my neck, not to hard or to softly, causing me to breath out heavily. She continues her kneading, going to the beginnging of my spine. Her fingers apply pressure there, making my eyes flutter, enjoying the relaxation.

"What was this massage called again?" I mutter, trying not to slur my words like a drunkard.

She giggles, her hands applying pressure to my neck again.

"It doesn't have a name, but people have been using this to fight tension for years. Your neck is really tense, by the way." She murmurs.

Her hands move back down to between my shoulders, gently rubbing the skin in circles. I fight back the urge to exhale, maybe too loudly. Her hands lower slightly, to between my shoulder blades, massaging out the supposed knots and tension.

Her thumbs put pressure to my shoulder blades, her fingers following suit.

"You should be a massage therapist when you are older." I mutter, in bliss. I hear her giggle, her breath eventually hitting my back, giving me an idea of how close she is.

I shift my head, so it relaxes in my arms, my own breath hitting my forearm, heating it slightly. Her hands hit pressure points moving all the way down to the small of my back where the twinge was. She inhales, applying a lot of pressure now.

"If you had just left that, Eli, you would have damaged your back badly." Her thumbs trace it in circles.

I fight back a moan, my eyes fluttering shut, happily. As she is pushing to my skin I feel warm lips hit the middle of my back. Her teeth graze up between my shoulder blades, her tongue darting out lightly.

"C-clare." My voice is hoarse, and my mind feels as it it will shut down from exhaustion.

"Eli." She counters, her breath hitting my back, sending ripples of bliss up my body. Her hands continue to massage my lower back, kneading in a cat like motion. Screw it, I think. My eyes fall shut, as I let out a loud groan, her lips still tracing my back, her hands continuing also. I let the bliss inside me hit my exhaustion, pulling me half into sleep.

The last thing I hear is her say my name, giggling, as she realizes I am falling asleep.

In the back of my mind, I plan another way to pull another muscle in my back.

Just for another one of Clare's personal massages.

I smirk, finally letting sleep fully overcome me.

.

I liked this one. Eli is cute(-ER) when he's in total happiness. Hoped you liked it. Damn now I need a massage on my neck. Hopefully by Eli himself. *Wink Wink* All you Eclare fans are probablly thinking "THANK GOD FOR MORTY" after reading this. ;) Review pleasee.