Dressing Room

Kurt stood in front of a 3-way mirror in an upscale men's store. Mercedes sat in a chair, waiting for him to make up his mind. They'd been there 40 minutes, and Kurt had tried on about 20 shirts. They were both tired and crabby.

Kurt caught Mercedes' eye in the mirror. "Look, Cedes, why don't you check out the makeup at Sephora. I'll meet you at the car in half an hour."

Mercedes yawned into her hand and started to gather up her bags. "You sure?"

Kurt nodded. "Yeah, I'm almost done."

As Mercedes headed off the salesman, who had been running all over the store for a very demanding Kurt, approached with a black shirt. "Perhaps you would consider this, Sir."

Kurt turned away from the mirror, took the shirt from the man, and scanned it critically. "Maybe" The McKinley diva walked into the changing room, and closed the door behind him. The salesman sighed in relief, crossed his fingers behind his back and waited for the teenager to emerge from the changing room.

Kurt turned in front of the mirror. The shirt fit beautifully, hugging his torso perfectly, the French cuffs exactly right. The salesman stood by quietly. He'd waited on this kid with the amazing eyes before, he knew better than to express an opinion. The teenager nodded, satisfied finally. "I'll take it".

At the cash, Kurt handed over his credit card. The salesman ran the card, and wrapped the shirt in tissue.

As he carefully placed the shirt in a carrier bag, the salesman looked up at Kurt. "It was a pleasure to SERVE you, Sir".

The odd stress on the word, 'serve', got Kurt's attention. He looked at the salesman, really seeing him for the first time; brown hair, dark framed glasses, thin, 5'8" or 5'9", maybe 22 years old.

The salesman walked around the cash, and handed Kurt the carrier bag. "My name is Nigel. I'm here till closing every Wednesday, if you should ever WANT me." Again there was that strange emphasis, this time on the word, 'want'. Nigel held Kurt's eyes, sending a message.

"Thank you." The McKinley student took the bag, avoiding the salesman's eyes and left the store. Nigel watched until Kurt was lost in the flow of shoppers.


Mercedes chatted easily on the drive home, excited about some new eye shadow that she had found. Kurt didn't say much. He was processing that scene in the store with Nigel. He heard again the odd emphasis on 'serve' and 'want'. Did that mean what he thought it meant?

Later that evening, as Kurt sat at his vanity, he was still preoccupied with the whole Nigel thing. Kurt wasn't stupid, he was pretty sure the guy was hitting on him, but there was an ocean of difference between pretty sure and certain. Thanks to the dearth of out gay boys at his school, Kurt didn't have a lot of experience with guys hitting on him, make that none! Was Nigel hitting on him? Was he imagining something out of nothing? Kurt really, really didn't want another fiasco like the Valentine's thing with Blaine! Even if Nigel was actually hitting on him, was he interested?

As Kurt slid between his sheets, he still had no answers. He pulled his pillow over his head and groaned. Why was life so complicated and frustrating? When Blaine took his hand, on the stairs at Dalton, and sang "Teenage Dream", Kurt thought he had finally found what he was looking for. But that had been months ago, and Kurt was still waiting. Blaine was undecided. He hadn't said 'no', but he hadn't said 'yes', either. It was, actually, rather insulting! Wondering how Blaine felt about him, wanting more, was doing a number on Kurt's self-esteem. He felt powerless and he didn't like it. Just once, he'd like to be the one in control!


Wednesday night, and Kurt's been wandering the mall for 45 minutes. Did he want to take Nigel up on his offer? Was it an offer? Did he even want to know? A part of Kurt's mind sneered at him. "And, exactly, what else have you got going on? I thought you were tired of waiting? So, do something!" "OK, OK," Kurt muttered to himself, "I'm going." He straightened his shoulders and strolled into Nigel's store, glancing at his watch as he entered, 8:55.

The Glee diva was too nervous to look for the young salesman, so he walked over to a table of cashmere sweaters. As he ran his fingers over a stunning, heather coloured sweater, Nigel appeared at his elbow. "Would you like to try this on, Sir?"

Kurt nodded. Nigel took the sweater from Kurt, and escorted him to the fitting rooms. After arranging the sweater carefully on the bench in the dressing room, the young salesman excused himself. "I have to lock the store. Please take your time, Sir."

Alone in the dressing room, Kurt decided he may as well try on the sweater. "Wow! This colour is great with my complexion. I need a smaller size, though." Lost in the fabulousness of the sweater, Kurt totally forgot his original reason for being there. When Nigel rapped on the door, Kurt was still in cashmere heaven. "I need this in a smaller size, please."

Nigel's eyes lit up, before he cast them down submissively. "Of course, Sir." The young man withdrew, closing the door softly behind him.

After the salesman left, Kurt remembered that he wasn't actually supposed to be shopping. "You're such a moron! God! Nigel must think you're an idiot." Pacing the room, berating himself for stupidity, Kurt cringed at his own words. "I need this in a smaller size. God! How embarrassing! What must Nigel be thinking?"

Kurt stared into the mirror, seeing Nigel's expression on replay in his mind. His eyes had lit up. He had lowered lashes, smiled demurely, and bowed his head. Strange, Nigel hadn't looked as if he thought that Kurt had just said something epically stupid. No, actually, Nigel had looked as if he thought that Kurt had said exactly what he wanted to hear. Nigel had looked happy, like someone had just given him a gift. What had Kurt done to get that reaction? The McKinley teen had no idea. He had practically snapped at the man. Actually, all Kurt had ever said to the other man was "do this" or "get that". What was so enticing about being ordered around?

Wait ... the lowered eyes, the bowed head ... not shy, not shy at all ... submissive. Kurt's eyes widened in surprise, was it possible that Nigel liked taking orders? Kurt turned the idea around in his mind, the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Nigel had made his 'offer' only after Kurt had him running around the store forever. Kurt leaned against the mirror and crossed his arms over his chest. "This could be interesting."

Kurt was still leaning against the mirror when Nigel returned. The McKinley diva didn't even glance at the sweater the salesman held. "I want to see the same thing in blue." Kurt purposely neglected to say 'please'.

Nigel bowed his head submissively, but not before Kurt saw the flush on his cheekbones. "Of course, Sir."

As soon as Nigel left the room, Kurt did a quick dance step in excitement. "Well, I'll be damned!"

When Nigel returned with the blue sweater, Kurt was standing in front of the mirror. The teen didn't turn around or even glance at the salesman. "Find me dress pants in charcoal." When Nigel returned with the pants, Kurt stepped away from the mirror and turned to face him. "Take my jeans off."

Nigel's face flushed pink to his hairline. "Yes, Sir." The young man dropped to his knees in front of the teen. Nigel removed Kurt's shoes, he undid the button and zipper on his jeans, and pushed them down and off. Nigel remained on his knees, his head bowed. Watching him, Kurt felt his pulse start to pound in his ears. "Holly Alexander McQueen! This is amazing! What a rush!" Understanding the role he had to play, Kurt didn't let his excitement show. He snapped his fingers and motioned to the dress pants. Nigel jumped up, and helped Kurt into the pants. Kurt faced the mirror, supposedly examining the pants, but he was really using the mirror to watch Nigel. The other man was standing quietly, his head lowered, but his excitement was clear to Kurt...the flushed face, the uneven breathing, the bulge in his pants! Kurt smiled to himself. "The charcoal doesn't work. Get me black."

Kurt didn't acknowledge Nigel, when the salesman returned with the black pants, he simply motioned to the pants he was wearing. The young salesman took the charcoal pants off the teen and helped him into the black ones. The McKinley diva stepped back from the mirror, placing himself slightly behind Nigel. As he reached for the blue sweater on the bench, he casually ran his hand down the other man's back. Nigel gasped and shuddered under Kurt's touch. Kurt smiled. Slowly, he peeled off the heather sweater. He caught Nigel staring at his chest. He pulled the blue sweater on, even more slowly. Kurt ran his hands down his own torso and settled his hands on his hips. Staring into the mirror, he saw Nigel bite his lip.

Turning from the mirror, facing the other man, Kurt replaced the sweater with his own shirt, which he left unbuttoned. Kurt watched Nigel, watch him, as he touched himself, slowly moving his hand down from his throat to his waist. Nigel's eyes were locked on Kurt's hand. Kurt snapped his fingers, and Nigel's head shot up. The teen motioned to his jeans and the other man rushed to help him out of the black pants and into his jeans. As Nigel knelt in front of Kurt, pulling the jeans up Kurt's legs, Kurt grabbed his wrists. He moved Nigel's hands to his thighs, spreading Nigel's fingers across his skin.

Nigel made no effort to pull away. He shifted closer, and stroked his hands over Kurt's thighs. Kurt traced Nigel's forearms from wrist to elbow, and back again. Placing one of his hands on each of Nigel's, Kurt pulled the other man's hands to the waist band of his boxers. Watching Nigel's bowed head for any signs of resistance, and finding none, he pushed Nigel's hands down bringing the underwear with them. Kurt's cock sprang free, directly in front of Nigel's face, almost touching his lips. Nigel's hands trembled on Kurt's thighs. He looked up at Kurt. "Please." Kurt stroked his fingers through Nigel's hair, and nudged his head down.

Nigel's lips rubbed Kurt, his tongue swirled, his mouth sucked. The teen closed his eyes, lost in heat and sensation. The only thought screaming through his mind was, "Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh; My God!" Kurt had expected
his first blow job to feel good, but this, this was amazing! Nothing had ever felt this good. Kurt grabbed Nigel's shoulders and widened his stance, both to give Nigel better access, and to make sure he didn't collapse from sheer pleasure. It didn't take long before he exploded into Nigel's mouth. By the time Kurt learned how to breathe again, and opened his eyes, Nigel was gone and Kurt was alone in the dressing room. He sank down on the bench, leaned his head back against the wall, and waited until his breathing evened out. Eventually, Kurt stood up and started to button his shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror and grinned. "WOW!"

The McKinley student left the dressing room and walked into the store proper. Nigel waited for him, standing by the glass doors, which he had unlocked. As Kurt approached him, Nigel handed him a carrier bag. Looking into the bag, Kurt saw the heather sweater he had tried on.

Nigel's eyes glowed as he smiled at Kurt. "Thank you."

Kurt reached out and touched Nigel's face. He ran his thumb back and forth over Nigel's jaw. "You're welcome." And Kurt smiled.


If Kurt was quieter than usual, the next day in the choir room, no one in New Directions noticed. They were all too busy arguing with Rachel. During lunch, on Friday, Mercedes noticed that Kurt was distracted. "What's up, white boy? Is everything OK with you and Blaine?"

The countertenor shook his head, came back from where ever he had been, and smiled at his BFF. "Yeah, fine. He's driving down from Dalton tomorrow. We're going to see a movie, maybe have dinner at Breadstix. Want to join us?"

"Nah." Mercedes shook her head, "Thanks, but we've got an extra choir practice this week. We're working on a new hymn. We need it perfect by Sunday. Besides, I don't want to horn in on you two love birds."

Kurt looked down at his fingernails, then up at Mercedes. "Blaine's not exactly lovey-dovey, Mercedes, you know that."

Mercedes reached over and patted Kurt's arm. "Just give him time."

Kurt stared at his nails again. "Uh-huh."


Saturday was fun. Blaine gave Kurt all the news from Dalton and the Warblers, most of whom Kurt had met by now. Kurt filled Blaine in on Rachel's latest craziness. They talked about the songs each of their glee clubs we're working on. The movie was good, dinner at Breadstix was fine. After dinner, the boys hugged each other, walked to their cars and drove out of the parking lot. Once again, Blaine gave no indication that he wanted Kurt to be anything other than a friend. Somehow, Kurt wasn't as upset about that as he used to be.


The next Wednesday, Kurt walked into Nigel's store just before closing. The salesman was at the cash with the last customer. Kurt caught his eye and tilted his head to the side, indicating the dressing rooms. Nigel nodded, and swiped the customer's credit card. Kurt didn't bother bringing anything into the dressing room with him. They both knew he wasn't there to shop. The McKinley teen had spent the past week going over and over the last encounter with his salesman; mostly at night, in his bed, with his hand wrapped around his penis. The countertenor had also spent an indecent amount of time creating scenarios for tonight. He had decided that he wasn't going to make Nigel run back and forth to the dressing room, why waste time? If Nigel liked to take orders, Kurt could think of a few that didn't involve Nigel leaving the dressing room.

The Glee diva was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest when his salesman entered the dressing room and closed the door softly behind him. Kurt straightened, held Nigel's eyes with his own, and pointed to the floor in front of his feet. Nigel fell to his knees so fast, that Kurt wasn't even sure he saw him move. He looked up at Kurt, waiting for instructions, for permission. Kurt stared down at him. "What are you waiting for?"

Nigel fumbled with the zipper on Kurt's jeans, trying to hurry. He pushed the jeans down and gasped when he saw Kurt's erection spring free, no underwear in sight. Curling one hand around Kurt's hip, Nigel used the other hand to guide Kurt into his mouth. Dragging his lips slowly over Kurt's length, Nigel dug one hand into Kurt's ass and caressed his balls with the other. The teen closed his eyes and traced the other man's shoulders with his hands, pushed his fingers through his hair. When Nigel ran his tongue around the head of Kurt's penis and began to suck, Kurt stepped back, away from Nigel's mouth. "Take your clothes off."

The countertenor watched as the other man undressed. Nigel wasn't built like the jocks on the football team that Kurt used to fantasize about. He wasn't broad or overly muscled, but he had a good body, taut. Kurt's eyes lingered on Nigel's waist, where waist flared into hip. The teen was intrigued with the indentations just below the other man's hip bones. Nigel's body called to Kurt. "Turn around."

"Put your hands on the wall, palms flat against it. Now, slide your hands down the wall until they're flat against the bench." Kurt watched as Nigel's body slowly curved until he was bent over the bench, his ass in the air. Kurt moved behind Nigel, glided his hands up Nigel's thighs, and stroked his ass. Nigel sighed. The teen clenched his fingers on the other man's ass, kneading it. Nigel moaned. Kurt moved his hands over Nigel's ass, grabbing handfuls of flesh and squeezing. Nigel threw his head back, and pushed his ass into Kurt's hands. Kurt slapped Nigel. Nigel gasped and arched his back, thrusting his ass high. Kurt wrapped one arm around Nigel's waist to hold him steady while he spanked him. Kurt repeated the cycle of slaps, right, left, right, left, over and over as he watched Nigel's ass turn pink.

Kurt stopped, leaned over Nigel's back and spoke softly, close to his ear. "Do you want me to stop?"

Nigel moaned. "No, please, don't stop!"

Kurt kissed Nigel's neck. "Tell me what you want."

Nigel stumbled over the words, almost babbling in his need. "I want you to hit me, please, Kurt."

Kurt slammed a hand down on Nigel. He watched the imprint of his hand stand out white against the red skin. "I never gave you permission to use my first name." SLAM. "I'm really quite displeased with you, Nigel." SLAM. Kurt reached for Nigel's cock and found it hard, the head dripping. "Don't even think about coming until I say you can." SLAM. "Do you hear me, Nigel?" SLAM.

"Yes, yes, I hear you." SLAM.

Kurt took his cock and slid it between Nigel's ass cheeks. The teen pushed in and out of the channel he had created. His abdomen pressed against Nigel's by now, very tender backside. Nigel moaned and trembled under Kurt. He moved a hand between his legs so that as Kurt slid forward, Nigel could brush the head of Kurt's penis. Kurt felt his cock start to pulse. He grabbed Nigel's cock and pumped it. "Now, Nigel!"

They finished together. Kurt gasped for breath and Nigel keened Kurt's name. Nigel collapsed onto the bench, as Kurt dropped to the floor. Nigel whispered something under his breath, and turned over. He slid onto the floor, and leaned against the bench. Kurt pushed himself backwards until he could lean against the wall behind him. Both were still breathing fast. They looked at each other and grinned.

Nigel took his glasses off, pushed his hair out of his eyes, and put the glasses back on. "I knew you would be good at this!"

Kurt laughed. "I don't see how, I certainly didn't!"

Nigel smirked. "You're my most difficult customer." When Kurt started to protest, Nigel held up his hand. "You're also my best looking customer, but you're a pain in my," Nigel raised his eyebrows, smiled and touched his own ass carefully, "ass. About the second or third time I served you, you were being insanely annoying and bitchy. I thought to myself, 'Christ! If he's this demanding in the dressing room, what's he like in the bedroom?" Nigel spread his hands and shrugged his shoulders. "And, just like that, I was hooked. The more often you came in to the store, the more annoying you became, the more I wanted you." Nigel smiled sheepishly. "I guess you know by now, that I like difficult."

Kurt snorted. "Yeah, I kinda noticed that."

Nigel's eyes drifted over Kurt. "How old are you, anyway?"

Kurt blushed and looked at Nigel from under his eyelashes. "Seventeen."

Nigel's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? The way you act in here made me think you were older than you look." Nigel's eyes wandered the room, stared at the ceiling, and returned to Kurt. "You OK?"

Kurt stretched his foot out to nudge Nigel's, and laughed. "Never better!"

The boys put themselves back together, and walked to the front of the store. Nigel unlocked the doors, and slid them open. As Kurt crossed the threshold, he grabbed Nigel's shirt and tugged him close. "Next time, bring condoms and lube."

Nigel grinned up at Kurt. "No problem."