Just an angsty tendershipping/tornshipping/ somewhat deathshipping drabble inspired by a rp I was doing. I will take partial responsibility for your tears :). Yaoi and mentions of non-consensual situations.

To Be Loved.

"I love you, Ryou."

"I love you, too Bakura."

The first time Bakura and I had ever shared 'I love yous' was the first time in my life where I felt truly happy. It never really occurred to me that I wasn't happy up until I realized what happiness was. My heart felt like it was going to leap out of my throat and I just couldn't wait to repeat the same words. I didn't even know how to express how I felt for Bakura before then, and now that he accepted that love was an emotion able to be felt, I could tell him. Simply. Oh yes, it was perfect. We were perfect and we were happy. One broken piece combined with a shattered soul and we somehow managed to mend ourselves back together.

Then Malik came along.

Malik was, obviously, very attractive. Every time he had come over to our small apartment, I would find myself staring at him and his exotic looks. He was intriguing, interesting in a sense, as he had many secrets about him. Of course we all knew of his past and the rough times he went through, but he was so much more. An unraveled mystery wrapped in a blanket of secrets. I was reeled in quickly.

And so was Bakura.

A year or so after our love confessions, Bakura and myself had a talk. We both admitted to the strange, erotic feelings we had for Malik, and we both agreed to confront him about it. I wasn't scared, no. Bakura and I were in love, and both lovers had the same sexual attraction to our best friend. There was really nothing to worry about.

And so, we talked. We talked to Malik about our feelings and he had admitted he felt the same way about both of us, creating a beautiful triangle of love. And that was perfect. The three of us were in love, but Bakura had told me no matter what happens, he'd never leave. He said he'd love me the most. He said we were two parts of the same soul, and nothing could ever change that.

He lied.

He lied to me.

It all started after that day. After that one day we confessed, all three of us. We were okay with Malik as an extra and Malik was okay with being an extra. He seemed to not mind that Bakura and myself loved each other more than we could love him. He said he was okay with this, and I believed in him. I believed in my friend like a good friend should.

We eventually went on to a more intimate relationship, Malik added into the mix just as he was meant to originally. He was our physical love, and he was okay with that. The first time was amazing, the second time wonderful, the third time astounding. I wouldn't know of the fourth time, for I wasn't there. I was sent out to buy groceries. Bakura had told me we needed some extra things for dinner that night as Malik would be staying. Little did they both know I had forgotten my phone on the counter, so when I came back five minutes later, the two had stripped themselves of their clothing and stared at me when I entered the door.

Yes, I was heartbroken, but Bakura had so easily convinced me that it's no different than us doing it without Malik. "How do you think he feels almost everyday?" He had said.

I then felt guilty. I felt selfish and gross for being hurt the way I was. I didn't deserve to be upset since Malik did have it harder than I did. But what I hadn't known was that he had in the physical way as well as emotionally.

I left for the store then, coming back to make dinner for the three of us. I stayed quiet and slept on the far side of the bed, telling myself over and over that Bakura was right. And until I finally brainwashed myself into believing it, I refused to fall asleep.

A couple weeks had passed after that, Bakura and Malik had done it without me at least three times that I knew of. "It's okay, love. He needs attention, too," was Bakura's excuse.

And I believed it.

I should have kicked Malik out then, but I couldn't. One night, the two were talking and I was asleep. I had a rather good day, but I was tired, refusing Bakura and Malik's offer of sex that night. According to Bakura, I needed it more than I thought, so he gave me a drink, a glass of whisky to relax.

That next morning, I had woken up at about three in the afternoon, sore as I could ever be and with multiple bruises on my arms and hips. Bakura and Malik weren't in the apartment, and I began to cry.

I cried because I was stupid.

I cried because I was weak.

I cried because I felt used and dirty.

I cried because it wasn't okay and that only now did I realize I was being lied to.

Bakura and Malik never came back that day and I confronted Bakura, two days later, when he did. I told him he was lying, I told him he was disgusting and I told him that I still loved him.

Bakura laughed.

He laughed at me.

He laughed at me.

I looked into his eyes to try to find what I saw only months before, but I couldn't see it. I couldn't see the spark there, I couldn't find the hint of a smile on his lips. I only saw the cold, evil smirk, the awful face I had remembered for pretty much my entire life.

"You are stupid, yadonushi. You're an idiot to think that anyone could love you. I was stupid to think I actually did love you. It wasn't you. It was him. Malik. I love him and he loves me. We're done with you, so get out."

I cried. I sobbed. I wailed and begged him to take me back, but Bakura, my love, shrugged me off his arm and pushed me, making me fall into my butt. I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't believe what was happening.

So I left.

I left my own apartment so they could be happy. So Bakura could be happy.

I paid for some of the bills still and I moved in with Malik's darker since he had offered.

I stayed because he was a yami, like Bakura.

I stayed because he showed me tough love, like Bakura.

I stayed because I was pale and he was tanned, like Bakura had.

I needed Bakura, and Mariku was the closest I could get to that. I tried to change him. Like I did with Bakura. It was necessary for me. I had to make things right again. I needed to be loved, desperately. But Mariku couldn't love. And Bakura was right. Mariku said he didn't love me, and I found myself in a similar situation.

Alone.

Just like it was.

Just how it had been with him. With Bakura.

Okay It was just a little drabble. I hope you weren't disappointed with the end because I just kinda...ended it XD. Sorry?