Sweet Disposition

A few months had passed and the young couple was still going strong. Claire had experienced the Flyer’s devastating loss to the Blackhawks in the Stanley Cup finals first hand. It wasn’t pleasant to say the least, however she stayed by her boyfriend’s side, comforting him as needed for the two weeks following the game.

Although he may not have shown it at the time, he was extremely thankful for everything she did for him. She had the patience of a saint for putting up with all of his moping about and sour attitudes, not to mention that he, on more than one occasion, had yelled or snapped at her out of the pent up frustration. She didn’t take it idly either, fighting back, refusing to let him walk all over her and successfully keeping in check. These fights, however, often resulted in extremely hot and aggressive make-up sex that brought them back together again, the post-orgasmic haze seeming to erase all bad feelings stirred up from their spats.

Along with dealing with his mood swings and temper tantrums and getting him through the pain of coming so close to achieving the ultimate dream that all hockey players share, she was also actively helping Danny out with the boys and whatever else he may need as he went through a particularly nasty divorce with Sylvie. There were many nights where she would “drag” Claude with her to the Briere residence and cook dinner for her five favourite boys. These dinners seemed to help lighten the mood for the two hockey players considerably. Just watching the kids goof off with Claire as they attempted to help her in the kitchen put a smile on the two men’s faces.

As time progressed and the summer days dragged by, Claude had gone home to Ottawa for offseason training and to see his family. He had wanted to ask Claire to join him but his nerves with the added factor of her schedule crushed any potential of him getting up the courage to do it. She had to stay in Philly for the Trial on the Isle and Prospective Camp as well as some end of season work getting together reports, training regiments, etcetera for filing and reference purposes for the next season. After that she was off to New York to visit her former boss, professors, and school friends and then off to Montreal to visit her family. She hadn’t seen them since the last time they had played the Habs before post season, the team’s schedule really preventing her from seeing them.

She and Claude often talked on the phone or skyped almost every day, neither able to go for very long without hearing the other’s voice. Usually their conversations were about their days and how much they missed each other and, more often than not, would result in some sort of phone sex.

Claude was looking forward to the approach of training camp, regardless of how slow it seemed to be in getting there. He got to start playing the sport he loved with the friends and teammates he didn’t get to see much during the offseason and he got to see his gorgeous girlfriend in person for the first time in a month and a half when he left for Ottawa. Both of these factors had him wishing for the summer to end more quickly so he could go back to the city he had grown to love and begin the journey to another chance at the cup.



Claude sat on the large, empty bed in his apartment in Ottawa staring at his phone like a teenage girl whose crush promised they’d call. Claire hadn’t rung him yet and he was tempted to phone her seeing as he had been waiting on her for an hour already. Had any of the guys seen him now they would have insulted his masculinity, asking him if his balls were in her handbag or calling him the pure definition of whipped.

He wondered when he had become so dependent on the sound of her voice, not that it really bothered him. He knew he was spoiled as it was due to her traveling with him all of the time, but the longest either of them had been apart was for a week or so when he was out with an injury and didn’t travel with the team. The summer had been a test to see how they could function for a long period of time away from each other and so far, as hard as it was, they were passing.

He nearly jumped a foot in the air when his cell phone sprang to life, her name and picture flashing on the screen. The phone was off his bed sheet and against his ear in the blink of an eye. “Allo chéri,” he greeted softly, “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to call tonight.” He could hear her sigh, “I’m so sorry Claude, it’s been a hell of a fucking day.” He could practically see her running a hand over her face as she took a deep breath to calm herself down.

“My 5-year-old cousin fell and hit his head on the corner of my parent’s coffee table and we’ve spent the whole day in the hospital with him, waiting on the fucking doctors to confirm that he does indeed have a concussion. Can you believe that? All day! I could’ve told them in 10 minutes whether or not he had one, I’ve studied child concussion cases, I know the damn symptoms and I kept suggesting it until four hours after checking him into the hospital, low and behold, they miraculously decided to test for one… I was ready to kill someone.”

Claude smiled at that; her fiery temper not something that anyone would want to be on the receiving end and he could only imagine the death glare she must have been giving the doctors over the entirety of the visit. “How’s he doing?” he asked, not bothering to say he was sorry, knowing full well that she’d chew him out for apologising for something out of his control. She exhaled, attempting to calm herself down once more, “He’s fine. It’s a mild concussion so they don’t expect a long recovery period. He’s home with his parents, the doctors didn’t keep him for overnight observation, thankfully.”

“That’s good babe, I’m glad to hear he’s okay.” She was quiet for a moment, neither finding the ability to say anything. It seemed like an eternity when Claire finally spoke, “I miss you Roo.” His heart fluttered at the sound of his nickname falling from her lips, “Tu me manques trop ma belle.” (I miss you too.) His voice was soft as he spoke, filled with adoration and longing, “Je souhaite que vous étiez ici.” (I wish you were here.)

He could hear a quiet sniffle on her end, “So do I.” Her voice cracked slightly, as if she were about to cry and he could feel his heart sink at the fact that he couldn’t pull her into his arms to comfort her, that simple fact killing him on the inside, “Non, don’t cry ma chérie. We’ll see each other soon, two more weeks and we’ll be back in Philly. You’ll be sick of me, you’ll see me so much.”

A smile tugged on the corners of his lips when she giggled, proud he had gotten a laugh out of her. “I doubt that, you’ll probably get sick of me after a day. I’ve gotten a little needy over the summer, if you know what I mean.”

He smirked, leave it to Claire to go from fragile to perverse at the drop of a hat, “Don’t you worry mon cher, you’re not alone there. We’ll just make up for lost time. You won’t be leaving the bed at all when I see you again and I guarantee that you won’t be able to get up from it for work, you’ll be too sore to walk.” Claire choked out a laugh, “Mon dieux, someone’s gotten a hell of a lot more forward. You been hanging around with Carter or Richards or something? If you are, don’t stop cause they’re rubbing off on you and I kind of like it. It’s like you have this hidden perverted side and it’s really fucking sexy.”

He laughed at that, his signature, so-called ‘panty-dropping’ smirk spread on his lips, “Chérie, je n'ai pas besoin Carter ou Richards à me dire comment parler sale à ma copine. Je peux le faire moi-même et ce n'est pas si difficile puisque tu baises magnifique. Être loin de vous aussi longtemps qu'elle apporte juste hors de moi toute sa force.” (Darling, I don't need Carter or Richards to tell me how to talk dirty to my girlfriend. I can do it myself and it's not that hard since you're fucking gorgeous. Being away from you this long just brings it out of me full force.) She gasped and he could just picture her cheeks burning red from his words. She never quite knew how to respond to compliments and he was sure that his overtly dirty comment along with his charm and flattery had her flushing crimson and then some.

He grinned, knowing by her somewhat ragged breathing that she was attempting to think of a way to reply to him and that she was getting a little hot and bothered. “God damn it Claude! I was ready to pass out and now I’m wide awake, horny, and my panties are soaking because of you and your dirty fucking mouth,” she scolded, confirming his suspicions that she was indeed as aroused as he had hoped. He chuckled huskily into the phone, “A little piece of home, eh? Getting you all hot and keeping you up past your bedtime. You love it, don’t even think about denying it because I know you do,” he teased, “Just warming you up for the season babe, you may get out of practise and we can’t have that now, can we?”

A throaty chuckle bubbled from her throat and if he closed his eyes he could see the sexy smirk spread across her always-inviting pink lips (that thought alone made his cock stir), “Oh no, Monsieur Giroux. We can’t have that, nous ne pouvons pas avoir du tout.” (We can't have that at all.)

He groaned at the soft, seductive purr of her voice in his first language, “Why do we have to wait so long again?” He could hear her snickering at his newfound impatience, “It’s the offseason babe, besides, like you said, we’ll see each other soon, it’s only two weeks.”

“And when we do, I plan to make good on my promise, you’ll be sore for a week,” he growled, earning a gasp and whimper from his girlfriend. “Vous vilain, vilain garçon. I’m holding you to that,” () she murmured, her voice weak with want and dripping with lust. He grinned at how easily he could push her when she was this turned on, “I know ma belle and you definitely won’t be disappointed. But now I know you’re tired and you need sleep so I’m gonna say bonne nuit et beaux rêves. I’ll talk to you soon.” (You naughty, naughty boy.)

He could hear her groan in frustration, “Fuck you Giroux, getting me all worked up and denying me. Rude.” He chuckled at her bluntness, “Goodnight babe. I miss you.” She sighed, “I miss you too. Goodnight Roo, I’ll skype you soon, okay?” After a few more farewells, the two finally hung up on each other.

Claude lay on his bed for a little while reveling in the sound of her voice fresh in his ears. Two more weeks, two whole weeks before he could hold her again and he was damn well looking forward to it. He could do this. He could make it, no problem. Two weeks would pass like nothing and he’d get to see the girl that had been constantly on his mind since the day she walked in on their practise the previous September. That is, until he came down from the high her voice seemed to induce and noticed his raging hard-on. For what seemed like the thousandth time tonight, he groaned loudly, setting to work to relieve his frustration and lack of sexual contact. It was going to be a very long two weeks.