Chapter 1

It wasn’t until the house lights came back on that Yuuri finally allowed himself to relax.  He applauded the volunteers on stage, cheering along with the rest of his table as JJ’s eyes opened and their friend looked around in confusion.

“B-but I can’t be hypnotized,” he insisted.  Vic—the hypnotist—clapped him on the back with a dazzling grin.

“Well, I really appreciate you playing along, then.  You’re a great actor!”  More laughter from the audience.  Yuuri joined in.

It was okay, now.  He was safe.

Or, at least he thought he was, until the beaming hypnotist paused just before exiting the stage.  “Oh, and everyone?”  Oh no, he was looking directly at Yuuri.  Why was he staring at Yuuri?  “You will tip your servers generously.”  The joking command – and oh god, Yuuri wasn’t safe, he wasn’t safe at all – earned a final round of laughter and applause, and Yuuri knew that he should join in, knew that he needed to at least try to act like a normal person instead of someone who had been hiding a hard-on for the last hour and a half (thank fuck for cocktail tables and cloth napkins), but those pale blue eyes were still focused on him, and all Yuuri could do was stare back in shock and arousal.

Until the hypnotist winked, his smile back in full force.  “Thank you again, and good night!” 

And then it really was over, and Yuuri let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Are you okay?”

Phichit’s look of concern was the last straw.  “Bathroom!” Yuuri yelped and lurched to his feet, all but bolting from the room.

***

The lounge was half-empty by the time Yuuri came back, although his group’s table had several fresh drinks fighting for space with their empties, and everyone was chattering happily.  Yuuri felt exhausted just looking at them. Unfortunately, Guang Hong was his and Phichit’s ride, so he couldn’t just leave on his own.

So he did the next best thing, sank into a stool in front of the empty bar, and ordered a White Russian.

The bartender gave him a knowing smirk.  “Popular drink on nights when Victor’s performing,” he commented.  “I take it you enjoyed the show?”  He chuckled as Yuuri turned pink and spluttered at him.

“Ignore Christophe; he’s an ass.”  Yuuri didn’t even have to look at the man who was claiming the bar stool next to his; that velvet baritone was even more powerful when it was purring directly in his ear.  It was all Yuuri could do to hold back a panicked squeak.

The bartender grinned, unoffended.  “Perhaps, mon ange, but a glorious one.  Your usual?”  He reached for a highball glass.

“Mmm, not this time.”  The hypnotist tapped a finger against his lower lip as if in thought.  He was even more unfairly handsome up close, and instead of cologne he smelled of lavender.  “I’m thinking more,” he glanced at Yuuri, “a Sakura?”

Yuuri blinked as Christophe busied himself behind the bar.  Most people tended to assume he was Chinese; was that a lucky guess, or..?

The hypnotist’s laugh sent shivers down Yuuri’s spine.  “If you could see the look on your face,” he murmured.  “I’m not magic—”

“—I know that,” Yuuri interrupted, his blush deepening.

“Your friend told me.”

Startled, Yuuri looked back over his shoulder, only to see his alleged best friend flash him a shit-eating grin and double thumbs-up.  Yuuri resolved to murder Phichit later.  “Oh.”  He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“I’m Victor.” 

“I know that, too.”  The Mysterious, Mesmerizing, Master Victor was the man’s stage name, after all.  Then he realized that Victor was looking at him expectantly.  “Oh!  Sorry.  I—I’m Yuuri.” 

Christophe set down a martini glass full of opaque pink liquid in front of Victor, and the hypnotist picked it up and took a sip.  His eyebrows raised appreciatively.  “So nice to meet you, Yuuri.  I couldn’t help but notice you during the show.”

Yuuri’s brow furrowed in confusion.  “Why?  I was awake the whole time.”

Victor chuckled, and a tiny part of Yuuri’s overwhelmed brain wondered if he should be taking offense at how often the (gorgeous, smoking hot) hypnotist seemed to be laughing at him.  “Yes,” he agreed.  “You were so determined to remain so.  I was a little concerned that you were doing yourself actual damage.”  Those sharp blue eyes flickered to Yuuri’s left wrist.

Yuuri clamped down on a sudden urge to tug his sleeve down over his hand.  He hadn’t been pinching himself hard enough to leave marks.  He hadn’t.

“Most people don’t need to force themselves to stay awake during my show,” Victor continued, obviously warming up to his subject.  “They either want to experience trance in a safe and controlled environment, or they don’t.  And if they don’t, well.”  He shrugged.  “If they don’t, then they won’t, and it’s as simple as that.  Which is as it should be; after all, it’s not a show anymore if the entire audience is on stage.”

Yuuri nodded.  That made sense.  And Victor’s normal voice was really nice, too.  Soothing, in a way that his on-stage persona wasn’t, quite.

“Which brings me to you.”

“Me?”  He blinked.

Victor nodded earnestly.  “You!  You see, there are only two types of people who resist trance as desperately as you did.  The alpha types, who always have to be in control, no matter what.  They see slipping into trance as weakness, and they’re terrified of being weak.  They don’t usually come to my shows willingly; it’s always because someone dragged them.  Their significant other, or,” he paused, tilting his head.  Victor had such pretty eyes.  “You’re here with the bachelor party, right?  John Jack or whatever?  The one who ‘can’t be hypnotized’?”

Yuuri found himself snorting a laugh.  “That was hilarious,” he admitted.  It was, too, now that he was calm enough to think back on it.  The full-of-himself JJ, stripped down to his boxer briefs and waiting tables, whimpering and moaning every time a giggling audience member called him a good boy for bringing them a drink.  “I’m glad you didn’t have him get all the way naked, though.  There isn’t enough brain bleach in the world for that.”

“You aren’t interested in men?”  Victor looked disappointed at that, and that wasn’t right.  He was too nice to be sad, especially about something that wasn’t even remotely true.

Yuuri hastened to reassure him.  “I’m not interested in JJ,” he said firmly, and smiled as Victor’s expression cleared.  “Men are… other men are nice.”  Especially one man, who had silver hair and the prettiest blue eyes and a soft voice, and who was looking at Yuuri as though he were the most interesting person in the room.

Victor smiled back at him.  “They are,” he agreed.  “But we got a little sidetracked.  We were talking about why you don’t want to be hypnotized.”

Wait, what?  “But I—” Yuuri had just enough presence of mind to shut his mouth on the rest of that sentence. 

“Shh, just listen for now, okay?”  Barely waiting for Yuuri’s hesitant nod, Victor continued.  “Of course I don’t actually think that you’re one of those types, even if it wasn’t your idea to come see my show.  You don’t bluster, for one thing, and you’re obviously not a bully.  In fact, just from talking to you for the last few minutes, I’d have to say that I find you very charming.”

And okay, Victor had asked Yuuri to listen to him, but nobody had ever called him charming before, and it would be rude if he didn’t say something.  “Thank you?”

Victor smiled, reaching out to and squeeze Yuuri’s hand.  “You’re most welcome.”  His thumb began to move, tracing idle patterns into Yuuri’s palm.  “But now that we have established what you are not, that brings us to what you are.  Do you want to know who the other kind of person who desperately resists hypnosis is, Yuuri?”

“Mmm hmm.”  He would have nodded, but moving felt like too much effort.  But he knew that he wanted Victor to keep talking, to keep smiling at him, to keep stroking his hand…

Victor leaned forward to murmur directly in Yuuri’s ear.  “The sort of person who doesn’t just want to be hypnotized, but craves it.  Fantasizes about it.  Dreams about losing control, about being made to do things against his will – but you and I both know that it wouldn’t really be against your will at all, don’t we, Yuuri?  After all, obedience is pleasure, and surrender is bliss, and I can grant you both of these experiences and more.  Much more.  And all you have to do.  Is choose.  To submit.”

Yuuri floated in Victor’s words, warm, dreamy, and with arousal humming in his veins, as the most gorgeous man alive pulled his kinkiest fantasies right out of his head and offered them back to him on a silver platter—

—And then Victor snapped his fingers directly in front of Yuuri’s half-lidded eyes, jerking him awake.

…wait.

Awake?

“Oh my god.”

Victor folded his arms and looked smug.  “Well?” he demanded.  “What do you think about my theory?”

Yuuri opened his mouth.  Closed it.  “Oh my god,” he repeated numbly.

The hypnotist’s grin twisted into a smirk.  “Not quite, but if you’re really into titles, ‘Master’ is a classic.  Of course, such details can always be negotiated later.”

“Oh my—” he started again, only barely managing to shift it to an awed, “Holy shit!” at the last second.  “I.  You.”  He shook his head helplessly and groaned.  “Oh my god.”

Victor’s lips twitched in amusement, but he stayed silent, obviously giving Yuuri the opportunity to regain his composure and consider his… proposition?  The problem with that, of course, was that a chance to think meant a chance to overthink, and his mind immediately flooded with questions, fears, and worst-case scenarios.

Who was Victor?  What did he want from Yuuri—well, he supposed the answer to that was obvious.  But why Yuuri?  He was attractive enough, but hardly in the sexy hypnotist’s league.  Or even Christophe-the-bartender’s.  What if Victor was an axe murderer?  Okay, not likely.  But what if Yuuri was just a one-night-stand for the traveling showman?  Just another boy to be mind-fucked and probably fuck-fucked before Victor moved on to the next town, and what the hell was wrong with Yuuri that even that thought made his cock twitch and his breath catch in his throat?  God, if he had even an ounce of sense he’d run back to his friends’ table and not look back until he was safe at home.

At home.  In bed.  Alone.  With memories of blue eyes and a velvet voice, and an offer that had to be too good to be true, but what if it wasn’t?  What if it – what if Victor – was everything Yuuri had fantasized about during his shameful 3am Pornhub binges?

If he walked away now, he’d never know.

“Wh-what exactly are you offering, Victor?”

The hypnotist’s smile lit up his face.