Author Notes: Tornshipping as requested! Rated M for alcohol, smut, language, dub-con. And discussion of sketchy dub-con. O_O This one-shot happens to be part of the canon for my stories "Mumbleshipping" and "Power Of Three."

"What's he doing here?!" Ryou exclaimed in surprise as he saw Marik approaching. Bakura just laughed, ignoring his hikari until he saw Ryou trying to edge away from him, at which point he grabbed him by his upper left arm, making him cry out as he was seized in the very spot he'd been stabbed by his yami.

"Careful, Bakura," Marik ordered, gazing crossly at the two of them. "I don't want him ruined at the end of this."

Bakura pouted. "But that's the only fun way to do this," he pointed out.

"Can someone please tell me what's going on?" Ryou whimpered, still in intense pain from the way Bakura was squeezing his arm. The pain was so sharp, so overwhelming, he thought he might faint.

"Bakura made me an offer, and while it would have been too suspicious for us to meet physically, meeting in his soul room is another story entirely." Marik had finally reached them and now stood with his arms crossed before the two white-haired teens.

"What kind of—oh," Ryou's stomach started to churn as realization hit him. That kind of offer. He sagged a bit in Bakura's hold.

"Straighten up, you," Bakura snapped, giving Ryou a shake, but it didn't bring about the intended result. In fact, it had quite the opposite effect as Ryou felt his knees weaken.

Marik peered into Ryou's face with a look of vague concern. "Bakura, let go of him now."

"Why should I?" the thief snapped. "He's my host, and I'll do whatever I want with him."

They kept talking, but Ryou couldn't follow the conversation anymore as he slid to the floor and blacked out.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up with those lavender eyes close to his face and a calloused hand brushing against his cheek. Marik sat back, looking up and announcing, "He's coming to, Bakura. Maybe next time, you'll do as I say so that we can avoid all this drama." Ryou winced at Marik's words, even though it seemed like they were intended to be in Ryou's defense.

"I don't see why we couldn't have started while he was unconscious," Bakura growled as he paced behind the two of them. Marik removed his hand from Ryou's cheek and held it out to help him sit up. As he accepted the offered hand and pulled himself upright, Ryou finally realized they were all shirtless.

"You're an absolute barbarian, you know that?" Marik jabbed as he glared up at the Spirit of the Millennium Ring, releasing Ryou's hand but staying within close proximity.

"Says the one who turns people into mind-slaves!" Bakura answered with an accusatory yell.

"Most of the time, they're willing," Marik said, crossing his arms as he tossed his hair. "Bandit Keith wasn't strictly willing, but he still would have liked to defeat Yugi in a duel, so the result was mutually desired. That counts as willing." He turned his attention back to Ryou, seeming to regard him with more respect than he regarded Bakura, or than Bakura regarded Ryou, for that matter. He gently pushed a lock of white hair behind Ryou's hair and leaned in to kiss him tenderly.

The softness of his attentions was a surprise to Ryou. He closed his eyes and began to return the kiss, pleased that for once he wasn't being bitten and scratched and kicked around. Bakura's harsh laughter behind him broke the spell.

"The first time I took you, you told me you weren't gay!" he exclaimed scornfully as he continued to laugh, amused by Ryou's enthusiastic reciprocation to Marik's kiss.

"Thanks to you, Bakura, I don't know what I am anymore," Ryou answered grimly, looking over his shoulder at the evil spirit. "Besides, I know I don't have much choice in this. If I tried to resist, you would just force me to comply, one way or another. You would use physical force—or threats, to create the illusion of willingness. And you," he turned back to Marik now, "You would use the Millennium Rod to coerce me, would you not?"

The two villains scrutinized their captive with an air of surprise.

"You're more perceptive than I gave you credit for, Yadonushi," Bakura growled, narrowing his eyes at his lighter half. "I'll have to keep a tighter rein on you." Ryou began to shrink back from him, trying to make himself look smaller. He was surprised as Marik put his arms around him and cradled Ryou's head against his shoulder, settling himself more comfortably as he straddled the shorter teen's lap.

"You told me he was willing, Bakura." Marik glared at his partner in crime rather fiercely.

"He is, just look at him!" Bakura gestured with his arms towards a confused, frightened Ryou who had started to embrace Marik in return, seeing it as his best option at the moment. He'd actually expected Marik to be his adversary as much as Bakura was, but he was starting to seem more like Ryou's ally in all of this.

"This isn't willingness, this is coercion. This is acceptance." Ryou didn't understand why Marik sounded so angry with Bakura, but he was grateful for the gentle gesture. It reminded him of how Marik had supported Ryou after Bakura had stabbed him, helping him to where his friends were. It reminded him of how gently Joey had helped him into the taxi with concern shining in those big brown eyes that always reminded Ryou of a golden retriever. He so rarely experienced physical affection of any sort, and had become so used to the pain Bakura inflicted on him, he'd decided to savor every moment Marik continued to be gentle with him, knowing that at any second it could all be taken away.

"I thought you didn't care about that!" Bakura shouted, exasperated, his temper getting the better of him.

"Normally, I don't," Marik said without flinching or remorse. "But he's different."

"What the fuck makes him any different from anyone else?" Bakura's eyes narrowed in an almost bored look as he crossed his arms and sank into one hip, striking a sassy pose as he pouted, waiting for an answer.

"He's a hikari, like me," Marik murmured, combing one rough hand through Ryou's white locks. "And I know what it's like to be forced by your yami."

As Bakura rolled his eyes in exasperation, Marik gently pulled Ryou's head up so he could look him in the eye. Ryou was surprised: he never would have imagined that Marik had a yami of his own.

"Unlike you, I was able to lock mine up deep within my soul so that he couldn't escape again," he said calmly, holding Ryou's cheek with one hand while he continued to stroke his hair. "I couldn't stop him from causing some damage first, though." Ryou continued to blink up at him in amazement, and Marik asked, "So, Ryou, are you willing?"

"I'd rather you stay here than leave me alone with Bakura," Ryou answered honestly. That was enough for Marik, who proceeded to make out with Ryou, who actually found this to be enjoyable, especially compared to Bakura. Marik eased Ryou backwards until his back was flat on the floor, and Marik shifted from straddling Ryou to kneeling between his legs.

With a thought and a smirk, Bakura removed what remained of all their clothes, causing Ryou to yelp in surprise.

"Don't startle him like that, Bakura!" Marik snapped angrily.

"I'll do what I want with my host," Bakura growled coldly, striding towards them both and kneeling down by Ryou's head. The pale hikari braced himself for anything, since he could never tell what Bakura would do next. The evil spirit seized Marik by his hair and pulled him into a rough, deep kiss, giving Ryou some moments to breathe easily. Those moments ended a little too soon.

"Don't think I've forgotten you, Yadonushi," Bakura crooned with his cruel grin. Ryou fought the urge to tell him not to call him that, as he did almost every time. He simply swallowed hard instead, holding his breath. Those hands identical to his own slid down his bare chest, Bakura's hands oddly cold. As he drew them back along Ryou's torso, though, he began to scratch, making Ryou gasp and writhe with the sudden pain on his tender flesh.

"Stop, you're hurting him!" Marik cried, grabbing Bakura's hands and flinging them away from Ryou's body. What ensued next was perhaps one of the strangest things Ryou had witnessed in Bakura's soul room: Marik launched himself at Bakura, and the two grappled for a while as they shouted angrily at each other. At some point, the grappling turned to sex, and Ryou curled up on his side, his arms wrapped around his head and his eyes closed. Maybe they would forget he was here. Maybe they would forget that they'd wanted some kind of three-way orgy with him and just satisfy themselves with each other. No such luck was to be had, however.

He didn't notice when the sounds stopped, but he did hear Marik's voice above him saying calmly, "I told you not to frighten him. The poor thing is terrified, all because of you. You're no good for him."

"Well, you wouldn't get to meet him at all if it weren't for me," the thief pointed out with crossed arms.

"Huh. True that, Bakura."

"We should be at least half drunk before we continue," Ryou's darker half said, producing alcoholic drinks out of thin air. "It's always best that way."

Oh no, not a drunk Bakura. Ryou shuddered as Marik traced a finger along his body thoughtfully. Please say no, Marik, please say no.

"Sounds like fun."

No…

That whole night was a nightmare for Ryou, who as unable to escape any of it.

How can they even get drunk inside a soul room?

Marik was gentler than Bakura, but that wasn't very hard to do. Even so, he'd very sternly warned Ryou in no uncertain terms that he held absolutely no affection for him and never would.

Why did they need me to do this? Ryou thought in despair.

Marik was right: acceptance wasn't the same as willingness.

"Wake up!" Mr. Moto cried as he shook the hospitalized teenager awake.

Ryou opened his eyes at last, immediately feeling a pressure from Bakura to relinquish control.

"Ryou, are you alright?" Grandpa asked. "You were crying out in your sleep."

"I'm fine," Ryou answered shakily, trying to sound convincing. "It was only a nightmare." Then he slipped under again as Bakura shoved him out of the way.