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Broken Dreams

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Kamiyama's anguished cries bring Honma nothing but pleasure.

The second season of The Quiz Show has become an unexpected success, quickly gathering media attention and becoming the focus of many a topic on internet forums and newsgroups around the country; there have already been several requests for interviews with MC Kamiyama, but Honma has declined them all. It's too much of a risk for him to allow the media to have any direct access to Kamiyama – there's no knowing what they might say, what questions they might ask, and he cannot afford to allow his plan to fall apart now. No, it's easier to schedule photoshoots with privately-hired photographers and release the pictures when he's ready. That way, he remains in control – and if there's one thing Honma Toshio loves, it's being in control.

That's why he stands here over Kamiyama now, in the small, cold cell where he keeps him confined, staring down at him with a look which is a mixture of both arousal and contempt, watching as the man who was once his friend screams and writhes in mental agony on the cold concrete floor. The filming of tonight's show has been every bit as exciting as last week's premiere; the teen author Mika has proven to be as interesting a guest as Honma could have hoped, the exposure of her true situation bringing him a thrill of pleasure as he had watched her world crumble around her. The fact that he might actually have done something kind for her pales into insignificance beside the knowledge that he was able to get the better of her agent – and of course, that he has been able to trigger something hidden deeply within Kamiyama's mind. It matters not to Honma whether the contestants leave his show uplifted or broken; all he cares about is whether seeing them face-to-face causes Kamiyama to react... and to remember.

“Kamiyama.”

He's had his fun watching the other man's pain; now it's time for his enjoyment. Reflecting on the events of the second episode have reawakened his excitement, and he's going to take it out once more on Kamiyama, whether the man wants to help him or not. At first Honma's voice seems to do nothing, the other man being so lost within his own torment that he doesn't even hear it.

“Kamiyama.”

He speaks it more loudly now, more insistently, but again Kamiyama doesn't seem to hear. He's stopped screaming, but now he is curled up into a small ball, rocking back and forth and making soft whimpering noises where he nudges against Honma's feet.

“Kamiyama!”

That gets his attention. Kamiyama gives a small cry of surprise, his head jerking up as he notices Honma's shout, and he glances up at the man as if shocked to see him standing there, even though it was Honma's yelling which caused him to start screaming in the first place.

“I need you to help me, Kamiyama...” Now that he's got Kamiyama to notice him, Honma's voice becomes softer and quieter again – deceptively soft and quiet, considering what he has in mind. “You did well tonight, making people see the truth about Mika. You did exactly what I told you.”

He reaches out to stroke at Kamiyama's hair, causing the other man to whimper softly. Isn't that what Kamiyama wants? Doesn't he want to make Honma-san proud? For some reason he seems to think the world hurts less when Honma-san is proud of him...

“And because you did what I told you, everything turned out exactly like we wanted...”

Kamiyama can't remember what the plan was, or even if he was told about one, but Honma seems pleased so he should probably be happy.

“...and because of that, well... I went and got a little... excited.”

Honma laughs softly, reaching down to take hold of one of Kamiyama's hands; he squeezes it gently, running his thumb across the back of his hand, guiding his fingers up towards his leg. Wordlessly and without objection Kamiyama complies with what Honma wants, placing his fingers against his thigh without saying a word.

“There's something about filming this show which gets me so hot and bothered, Kamiyama... something about seeing you on that studio floor in your sparkly little tuxedo, seeing the way you can dance so easily about the questions... seeing the way you can manipulate our guests so masterfully...”

Even as Honma talks he's winding himself up further and further, feeling his crotch tighten, feeling the heat build between his legs; for some reason picturing Kamiyama dressed for the Quiz Show and chatting with the contestants arouses him more than he had previously realised, the memory of his warm smile and bright laughter making him feel different somehow, and he gives a loud moan as recalls how it felt to couple with the man a few days previously, his body soft and warm and tight... He's already hard, his excitement creating a prominent bulge in his trousers, and he growls as he drags Kamiyama's fingers from his thigh to his arousal, making him touch at it through the fabric.

“Do you know what I want you to do?” Honma breathes, his voice low and husky. “Do you know what I want from you, Kamiyama...?”

The other man nods silently, unable to meet Honma's gaze; he keeps his head down, his eyes fixed on the floor even as his hands touch and stroke at Honma's crotch. Without looking he fumbles at the button and zip, exposing Honma's underwear, drawing a long, low moan from the man's throat as his fingers brush at him through the flimsy material. He rubs at him for a little longer, his hands cupping him, touching at his hardness... and then he finally looks up, cheeks burning with what must be shame, as if to confirm what the other man wants.

“Yes...” Honma smirks, his eyes blazing with the hungry passion which he feels; he continues to guide Kamiyama's fingers, easing them inside the waistband of his underwear, helping him to pull them down and free his hardness. He groans as it juts out towards Kamiyama, and he closes the man's fingers around him, pushing his hips forwards, presuming he will know what he wants. With his other hand he takes a hold of Kamiyama's head, pulling it towards his crotch.

“I know what you can do with that mouth,” he breathes, smirking, his voice shaky with excitement and blatant lust. “I know what you can do with words... you have such a clever tongue, Kamiyama... show me what else you can do with it...”

Kamiyama stares at Honma's arousal with a mixture of fear and determination. He needs to please Honma-san... he wants to please him... but he's never touched a man like this before, and he really doesn't know where or how to start. In fact he's never touched anyone like this before; the only intimacy he has ever shared with anyone was when Honma pinned him down before the show last week and took him. His memories of it are still vague and hazy, although he can recall feelings of intense pleasure and a warm satisfaction; perhaps Honma will allow him to experience those feelings again if he does his best to make him happy now.

Leaning forward – guided by the presence of Honma's hand upon his head – Kamiyama presses his lips firmly but gently against the hot, smooth skin at the head of Honma's length, his fingers holding the shaft; the mere touch of his mouth against him draws a long, low groan from Honma's throat, causing the man to buck forwards, to dig his fingers more firmly within Kamiyama's hair. Instinctively he parts his lips to take the tip of Honma's arousal within his mouth, his tongue caressing at the firm flesh; his taste is warm and salty, his scent heavy and musky, and to his surprise Kamiyama realises that he actually likes it.

He allows himself to savour the taste a while longer, then dares to pull back, releasing Honma's length from his mouth; Honma frowns, a curse on his lips, perhaps a punishment – but then Kamiyama's tongue is finding its way along Honma's entire length, tracing its way from base to tip, even swiping teasingly at his head again before he once more takes Honma between his lips. Kamiyama couldn't say where he learned how to do this; it's partly instinct, partly some half-remembered ideas from fantasies he had when he was a teenager. He must have been younger, once; he must have entertained ideas of wildly coupling with other people, even if his desire seems to have waned by now, but being with Honma appears to be re-awakening a hunger he's forgotten that he had.

Moaning quietly Kamiyama slides his mouth further down around Honma's length, slowly taking him as deep as he can go; his low groans send vibrations through Honma's flesh, his soft, wet mouth tight and slick around his hardness, and he begins to suck hungrily at him, his tongue pressing against the smooth skin. Honma bucks forwards, unable to keep himself from reacting to Kamiyama's attentions, the head of his length hitting the back of Kamiyama's throat and causing the other man to gag slightly - but then he pulls back, pacing himself, starting to move in a slow, steady rhythm in time with Kamiyama's mouth. Trickles of his pre-cum already leak forth to stain Kamiyama's tongue but he swallows them down eagerly, finding that he enjoys Honma's taste, that he enjoys knowing he can give the man so much pleasure.

Honma is already drawing close to his climax, the excitement of the show combined with Kamiyama's skilled lips making his body grow tighter and tighter, his desire building quickly within him and threatening to break out at any moment; his fingers tangle more tightly within Kamiyama's hair, his hips start to move more quickly against the man's mouth, his whole body trembling and shaking as he gasps and moans Kamiyama's name. The feeling of having him on his knees, doing exactly what he wants, is almost more than he can take - and then, with an expert swipe of Kamiyama's tongue, Honma is crashing over the edge, practically howling the man's name as he begins to come.

His sudden orgasm is so passionate, so intense, that he has to brace himself against Kamiyama to stop his legs giving way beneath him; the cries which tear their way from his throat are harsh and guttural, a series of raw, primal howls which punctuate the loud moans still issuing from Kamiyama's own mouth. He bucks and whines, his back arching, his head falling back as he releases his essence between Kamiyama's lips again and again.

Kamiyama takes it as best he can, virtually gagging on Honma's length as the man thrusts wildly down his throat, swallowing his issue and trying not to choke; it's not as though he could move even if he wanted to, however, seeing as Honma has his fingers tangled so tightly within his hair that he is locked in place. And so he rides out Honma's orgasm with him, moving with the other man as he thrusts against him, shaping his lips around his length until finally Honma falls back, allowing himself to slip from between Kamiyama's lips, leaving stains of his essence on the man's chin.

“Kamiyama...” He rocks back on his heels, releasing his grip on the man's hair but continuing to touch and stroke at it, running loose strands of it between his fingers; the way he treats him is almost as though he is a lover.

“Honma-san...” Kamiyama whimpers quietly, his head falling forward once more, loose strands of his hair covering his eyes. He reaches up to wipe at his chin, his fingers coming away soiled and sticky, and he rubs his hand on his trousers, staining them with Honma's mess. Should he feel glad that he was able to pleasure Honma with his mouth? Or should he feel guilt that he wasn't able to clean him with his tongue as well as he could have? For a few moments he worries that he will be punished for his inability to take the other man's length as deeply as he could have done... but before he can dwell on it to much he is aware of Honma crouching down beside him, the other man's fingers cradling his cheek, his lips pressing suddenly and hungrily against his own.

Honma moans loudly as he kisses Kamiyama, savouring his essence, his tongue sliding between Kamiyama's lips to gather more of his taste and swallow it down himself; he pulls away only to sit down properly on the floor beside Kamiyama and then he resumes the kiss, one hand sliding around to the back of the other man's neck, drawing him closer against himself. His body is still trembling from his climax, his fingers shaking, his very being suffused with a warm satisfied glow.

“Now then...” Honma breathes huskily, a wicked smile playing on his lips. “I think you've earned a little reward for that, don't you? Not to mention the exceptional performance which you put on for us tonight.” He pulls away from Kamiyama, but it's only so he can move onto the bed; he pats the space beside him indicating that Kamiyama join him there, which the other man does so. Then he lays down, drawing Kamiyama closer, one hand sliding down between them to touch at Kamiyama's crotch – and, much to Honma's satisfaction, Kamiyama is already hard, unlike the last time he touched him like this.

“Good boy,” he smiles, his fingers quickly finding their way down inside the waistband of Kamiyama's trousers, touching at his length, closing around him and gently squeezing at his flesh. He begins to slide his fingers along him with firm, languid strokes, rubbing his thumb over the tip, drawing a soft whine from Kamiyama's throat as he does so. “Such a good boy...”

Kamiyama isn't sure what to make of what's happening. He leans heavily against Honma, his face pressing against the other man's shoulder, and he dares to clutch at Honma's arm as he touches and caresses at him so intimately. It's a reward for good behaviour, isn't it? It certainly feels pleasant enough, and he whimpers as Honma touches him, welcoming the touch, his hips beginning to thrust forwards in time with Honma's firm strokes; he's not pleasured himself since Honma coupled with him, he's not even sure why, but somehow he understands that the feeling of release is somehow that much more satisfying when he's sharing it with Honma rather than doing it alone.

He moans more loudly as Honma increases his pace, one hand gripping at the bedsheets, the other reaching out to clutch at Honma's arm as he starts to writhe and thrust forwards into his hand; Honma has certainly had more practice than Kamiyama at touching himself and he puts that experience to good use now, his fingers sliding expertly over Kamiyama's flesh, squeezing and touching, his thumb flicking over the head of his length to gather the moisture which is already leaking there.

"Come for me, Kamiyama..." he intones, leaning in to breath against the man's ear. "You've earned this..."

Kamiyama's reply is a strained whimper, his body responding eagerly now to Honma's touch, his hips thrusting forwards with every stroke.

"I want this..." Honma continues, his lips pressing against Kamiyama's forehead, kissing at his skin, his mouth nipping at Kamiyama's ear playfully, lustfully. "I want you to come for me... I want to see you trembling beneath my touch... I want you to think about what it felt like when I was inside you..."

"Honma-san!" And with the reminder of that particular memory Kamiyama hits his climax, his back arching as he calls out Honma's name, his body releasing its essence into Honma's fingers, staining his hand, staining the inside of his trousers. "Honma... Honma-san... please... Honma-san!"

Honma laughs softly as Kamiyama trembles and shudders beneath his touch. How can he not savour this feeling of complete control, this feeling of power which he finds he has whenever he makes Kamiyama succumb to his desire? It's delicious and intoxicating, thrilling and satisfying, and he doesn't even object when Kamiyama snuggles needily against him, still whining and whimpering from the intensity of his climax. In fact there might even be something enjoyable about having Kamiyama cuddled against him like this, although he is too busy focusing on the pleasure of making the man submit to ponder why he might be enjoying the affection.

Without the deadline for the next episode approaching, there's no need to hurry to the television studio and there's no need for Honma to be in any rush to leave the cell. In fact, before he even realises it's happening, Honma is falling into sleep with his arms still wrapped around Kamiyama, the other man clinging onto him as they drift together into a contented doze.

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It's some time later that Honma awakens, and it takes him a few moments for his mind to register where – and when – he is. He normally sleeps alone, and the presence of a warm body beside him is an unexpected confusion until he recognises the familiar scent and feel of Kamiyama, recognises the surroundings as being Kamiyama's small cell. He shifts slightly to look down at the man who is cradled against him, his chest steadily rising and falling in sleep, and he sighs. Much as Honma feels the need to show his dominance over Kamiyama – much as he feels the need to belittle and humiliate him, to punish him for a crime he doesn't even remember committing – it somehow feels wrong to violently wake him, as if he can recall a time when he used to treat Kamiyama with gentle care instead of hatred and contempt. He tries carefully to extract himself from Kamiyama's grip, taking a hold of one of his arms and lifting it from his side, placing it down upon the bed so he---

“Honma-san...?” Kamiyama blinks into wakefulness, his eyes fluttering open as he turns his head to glance up at the other man. He yawns and begins to apologise, even though Honma was the one who woke him up. “Honma-san... I... I'm sorry... I hope I didn't wake you...”

“It's okay, Kamiyama.” Honma finds himself responding softly, and he even strokes at Kamiyama's hair as the man stretches and starts to sit up. Why is acting so gently all of a sudden? It must be the after-effects of his orgasm still lingering, he thinks. Even when he pleasures himself there's a release of anger which leaves him feeling placid for some time afterwards; yes, that must be it. “You didn't wake me. But I do have to go.”

Honma sits up too, pushing himself away from Kamiyama and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed; he runs his fingers through his hair, which has become a mess from their exertions, and tucks himself back into his trousers before buttoning them back up. Glancing back at Kamiyama he almost feels a pang of regret that he is leaving him alone like this, but quickly dismisses the feeling as a lingering effect of hormones and nothing more. It doesn't help that Kamiyama seems to be reaching for him, but... no. He's just imagining it. There can't be anything between them except a shared past and a need for stress relief.

“I'll be back tomorrow, Kamiyama.” He gets to his feet, turning back to glance briefly down at where the other man is still sitting on the bed. “I'll bring you the portfolio for the next contestant then. You should rest for now; it's been a long night.”

And with that, he turns and walks out of the door, once more leaving Kamiyama alone in his bed.

Kamiyama whimpers softly as Honma leaves, but the sound is so quiet that he doesn't hear it. For a few brief moments – a few warm, happy, brief moments – Kamiyama was able to feel the presence of an actual human being beside him, a human being who he trusts and he relies on, and now that human is gone. Honma-san is cruel, he knows, but he has shown glimpses of himself which reveal that he can be capable of such kindness towards Kamiyama... such gentleness... and he seems to recall a feeling that Honma has not always been so dark and conflicted. Honma-san must have been younger once, too. Did he know him then? He must know something, seeing as he has promised to help Kamiyama remember.

Mainly though, the overwhelming feeling which washes over Kamiyama when Honma leaves his cell is one of loss. Loss of human company, loss of affection, loss of... something which he cannot quite grasp, but he knows it has gone. He curls up on the bed, clutching the sheets tightly about himself, and begins to cry.

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Yoda-san is waiting patiently outside the cell, as always, and he smiles at Honma as he emerges and closes the door, his hair a ruffled mess. He doesn't say anything, falling easily into place beside the younger man as they begin to walk away from the cell door, although again there can be no doubt that Yoda-san has heard everything which transpired within the tiny room. Honma isn't even thinking about that, however; his mind has already turned towards next week's episode, towards the questions which will be asked and the traps which will be set for the next contestant... and the memories which might be triggered for Kamiyama when that happens.