Thunder crashed overhead as the boy ran down the street as fast as his legs could carry. His right foot slammed into a puddle, splashing water as he went. He took in violent, ragged breaths as he pushed himself further. He swallowed hard as a rough wind tore through his clothes and white tresses, tangling it. He swore under his breath as rain began plummeting towards the earth, hitting him in his face, his arms. Wet leaves fell all around him, sticking to his light plum coloured hoodie. He glanced towards the sky, the storm brewing closer. He burst through the apartment door right as it started pouring. He bent over and grabbed his small knees, taking in short shaky breaths. He licked his dry lips and closed his eyes for a moment. After he caught enough of his breath back, he treaded towards the elevator. He pressed the button and tapped his foot as he waited.

He pushed his wet fringe out of his face, noticing his legs trembling, his face hot, and his lungs burning. It was only forty degrees outside, the beginning of autumn, and yet he felt now as if it were the start of summer.
"Come on, come on." He muttered under his breath, fanning his hoodie to give him some air. The elevator door finally dinged. "Finally." He walked inside. He pressed the number seven and sighed, pushing a hand through his hair before crossing his arm. His thoughts churned over in his mind as he watched the number increase before the ding came through again, the door opening. He walked down the hall to door 709, taking in a deep breath. He shut his eyes, calming his brain, and pushed his way inside.

He carefully shut the door behind him and took his shoes off. He took a glance around the dim space before tip toeing to his bedroom. He wasn't sure if his other half was home, but if he was, he wasn't taking any chances of announcing his presence.
"You're late" a voice called from a dark corner of the living room. The boy took in a sharp breath and jumped slightly. His eyes flicked over to the clock. 5:05 pm. Narrow eyes in the dark looked the boy up and down. "And wet… Why?"
"I'm really not in the mood, Bakura." He started towards the bedroom again, his eyebrows knit. The other male stood and followed close on the boys heels.
"And why does that concern me?" Bakura quipped. The boy sighed and walked in the smaller room. He pulled off his sopping wet hoodie and tossed it to the ground. "You look like a drowned wet rat, Ry."
"Fuck off, Kura." Ryou hated the name Ry, and knew, too, that Bakura hated Kura. The man turned on Ryou quickly, shoving him into the wall, his hand over his throat.
"You know I hate that name." Bakura seethed, glaring down at the boy. Ryou swallowed hard against his elders hand and looked up into the eyes towering above him.
"And I hate what you called me." He allowed, carefully calculating his words.

Bakura tightened his grip, growling at the smaller of the two. Ryous eyes widened, gripping at the others arm. "You're really testing my patience, landlord."
"I apologize. I'm sorry." The younger squeaked out, trying to keep himself from panicking further than what his brain was. Bakura tilted his head ever so slightly, then cocked it.
"Are you now?" he asked, a bit amused, an ever so small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "How sorry are you?" he purred, loosening his grip just a smidge. "Beg for it, yandoushi." He let the smaller boy go and watched as he fell to the floor. Ryou coughed and took in as deep of a breath as he possibly could, one hand flying to his throat. "Grovel and let me know how sorry you really, truly are." Ryou rubbed his neck a moment before bowing on his knees, his forehead on the floor now.
"I'm really sorry." His voice was hoarse and cracked. He soon felt a swift kick to the stomach, the air immediately escaping his lungs as he fell over onto his side.
"I'm sorry?" he wore a twisted grin, dripping with maliciousness.
"I'm sorry!" his voice coughed out, dragging back in whatever he could. "I'll never do it again. I promise! Just, please." He begged, his hands over his stomach to protect it from anymore abuse.
"Ooohhh" Bakura took in a long deep breath and smiled wickedly, but then dropped it into a false frown. "Good. I'm glad. You know how much I hate having to punish you." He bent down and pat the youngers head gently a few. "How about you get some sleep then, huh?" Ryou nodded, but laid still on the hardwood floor, trying to gain his bearings. "Good. I'll be in the living room if you need anything." Bakura stood and strode gracefully to the door. "Sweet dreams." He turned his head to look at the boy who was laying in a ball before turning and clicking the door shut.

Chapter two hopefully maybe out soon? I'm just now getting my groove back after ten long years