Warnings: M/M slash, blood

Notes: Apologies/random observations to follow after this chapter

This part is just the worst. The stuff in the cabin I find to be appallingly badly written, not to mention just being bullshit generally (it's all a bit contrived)

Edit: I forgot to put breaks in. It should flow better now.

Chapter 2

Hart looked up from where he knelt tending the fire as the door burst open, revealing Boyd who looked to have been hurriedly dressed, his shirt and what little of his skin Hart could see covered in blood. His trousers however remained remarkably clean in comparison. Hart rose to his feet slowly, registering the dark look of anger written across Boyd's face. Perhaps Ives had finally pushed him too far.

"Guard Dog," Boyd said flatly. Hart took a moment to realise that Boyd was addressing him, before the other man pulled Ives into view. Ives too was covered in blood, more so even than Boyd, but on the whole he appeared undamaged, naked except for the black fur pelt draped loosely over his shoulders which also showed evidence of being caked in blood.

"Your bitch requires your assistance," Boyd continued coldly, pushing Ives forward roughly causing him to stumble slightly. Hart stepped forward to catch him, registering the look of intense irritation on Ives' face before lifting his head to fix his gaze back to Boyd. Boyd narrowed his eyes, his voice coming out almost as a toneless murmur, but his eyes betrayed the quiet rage that was building inside him. "I suggest you keep him away from me unless you want to see his guts decorating the walls."

Hart felt a pang of desire as Boyd slammed the door. Having Ives out of the picture certainly would make everything so much easier. There'd be no reason at all for him to stay. He quickly shook the thought away as nonsense. He wouldn't allow himself to entertain thoughts of having Ives killed. Ives had given him what most would consider a great gift, and he was obliged to repay him for that. He looked down at the other man, who remained glaring at the closed door where Boyd had stood moments before and Hart frowned.

"What did you do?"

Ives lifted his head to look at up at him as if he'd forgotten the other man was present before shrugging. "Oh, nothing much," he said simply, "I was just playing."

"With his blood?"

Ives chuckled humourlessly. "Actually, it's mostly my blood." He explained, opening his makeshift robe to reveal the deep gash across his chest, the wound already beginning to scab over. In mere hours it would be gone completely.

Hart took the opportunity to eye Ives up and down. The trail of blood lead down past his naval to his crotch and what was unmistakably smears left by bloody fingers between his thighs.

"You tried to seduce him?" Hart asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Actually Colonel, I succeeded." Ives answered with indifference, striding casually across the room and falling into the nearest chair, the fur falling immodestly open around him where he half-sat, half-lay atop it.

Hart averted his gaze. Ives was irritated that Boyd had rejected him, and now he demanded attention. He wouldn't say so at first, but if Hart ignored him he'd start to moan and writhe and touch himself, only ever asking for it verbally as a last resort. He'd been like that in the cave too, only then it had been harder for Hart to resist, when he was constantly hungry and still healing and there had been only the two of them there – Ives had got him to lick him clean with only the merest hint of blood play. Apparently a lot more blood had been required to convince Boyd.

Hart glanced back up. Ives was staring at him silently with his hypnotically dark gaze, fingers absently trailing a line down over his stomach. Too flat, Hart thought. If Ives had looked like him; tall, overweight and unhandsome, would it have been the same? He doubted it. But then, if Ives had looked like him he almost certainly wouldn't be using the same methods of seduction. No, if things had been the other way around Hart would have used sheer brute strength to get his way.

You still could, a small voice in the back of his head reminded him. He's fast but you're stronger.

Ives let out a low sigh from across the room, drawing Hart's attention back to him. Their eyes met across the room and Ives smirked, shifting his legs apart to give Hart a more generous view of his nethers, a hand print smeared up the back of his thigh, down over his rump and around his arsehole, which looked distinctly sore and open.

"Boyd made no attempt to clean up afterwards," Ives murmured with despondency. "Perhaps you might...?"

Hart wet his lips. He knew how this ended, they both did. He couldn't have resisted even if he'd wanted to.

Boyd sat across from Hart, glaring angrily through the door to the next room. Ives was asleep in the chair, visible through the open door, wrapped tightly in the fur.

"You won't be able to ignore him." Hart said quietly. "You have to get rid of him, before you become obsessed."

Boyd's gaze flicked to Hart's. "Like you, you mean?"

Hart sighed in exasperation, hanging his head. "Yes," he admitted wearily, glancing towards the door. "I've known since the cave that I won't be able to kill him. I've wanted to, but I couldn't do it." He got to his feet, walking towards the door and leaning on the frame, staring at Ives. Instinctively he lowered his voice; for fear that Ives would wake. "I remember in the cave waking up to find him asleep beside me. He was completely naked, covered in the blood of our... colleagues. I remember thinking in that moment that I'd never seen anything more beautiful." He turned, closing the door quietly. "I have of course. But the temptation does things to your mind."

"Yes. I noticed that." Boyd said evenly. "Colqhoun and Ives... he planned the whole thing didn't he?"

"Yes, he knew exactly what he was doing appearing so vulnerable to us. He is deadly though, make no mistake about that."

"He'd already decided who to kill and who to spare long before we even reached the cave."

"Probably." Hart agreed bleakly.

The pair of them visibly jumped as the door opened and Ives appeared in the doorway, fur draped over his shoulder hanging open at the front. Boyd noted that the blood Ives had on him when he'd delivered him to Hart had gone, most likely down Hart's throat he surmised.

"Well, isn't this cosy?" Ives smirked tauntingly.

"For god's sake put some clothes on!" Hart barked, unusually angry, his gaze averted from Ives as if he believed himself responsible for Ives' behaviour and feared Boyd would judge him for it.

Ives stared at him with an unreadable expression before his gaze flicked back to Boyd. "I trust you've calmed down after last night."

Boyd stiffened, fighting the urge to rush at him, but it proved a losing battle. In a second he was on his feet, slamming Ives hard against the wall, the pelt slipping to the floor.

"You just stay away from me!" He snarled.

"Boyd, don't!" Hart said hurriedly, rising to his feet and pulling Boyd off the other man.

Boyd stepped back, staring between the two of them as Hart moved around in front of Ives.

"Very clever Ives," Boyd muttered coldly. "You planned everything. Never letting your protector too far from your sight."

Ives half smiled, half sneered in response and Boyd's gaze flicked to Hart's.

"He's only using you. He'll cast you off the moment you become inconvenient."

"He doesn't care about your pathetic speculation Boyd." Ives said confidently, stepping forward from behind the larger man. "Neither do I for that matter," he was ready to step forward but a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"It's fine Boyd," Hart addressed him, but pulled Ives roughly back against him. "I don't mind playing second fiddle." He leant down, burying his nose in Ives' hair to smell the dried blood that remained there hungrily. Ives allowed this but looked decidedly irritated by it all the same.

"You can have him," Boyd said evenly. "It'll torture you either way." And he left, grabbing his coat on the way out the door.

He couldn't kill Ives. He definitely couldn't kill Hart, not without good reason. Could he kill himself?

An eternity with these men - Ives with his demanding, aggressive sexual nature and Hart, who'd allowed even his naturally jovial demeanour to be tempered by Ives' foreboding presence – could he possibly accept such an existence? Caught between a man who he both despised and desired, and another who he liked but who'd kill him on demand wasn't the most desirable of positions to be in.

Boyd wondered if, as a man Ives had been just as manipulative, just as ruthlessly efficient. Had he desired men even then? Did he even desire them now or was it all just a means to an end? Boyd was struck with the realisation that there probably wasn't a limit to how far Ives would go to get what he wanted.

He was pulled gradually from his reverie by the sound of crunching footsteps on snow and Ives appeared at his side. He was fully dressed, hair brushed and swept back behind his ears, looking about as well groomed as it was possible to be given their living conditions. He's probably healed too, Boyd thought dimly, his gaze rolling lazily away from the other man and back across the hills. Every part of him...

"You know I'm not demanding exclusivity," Ives' voice cut through the silence, filling Boyd with cold dread. He'd known the silence couldn't last, that sooner or later Ives would drag him back to his wretched existence, demanding something of him, never leaving him alone for long as if in fear that he might leave. Stupid, Boyd thought. Where would I possibly go?

"You're free to find someone you want to initiate, a mate if you will. Of course I have to approve him... or her... and it can be a woman Boyd, if that's what you desire." Ives paused, wetting his mouth. "I let Slauson go. Surely that's proof that I have no qualms about it?"

Boyd kept his gaze set firmly on the landscape ahead. General Slauson had left mere days after his inception, saying he was going to bring a woman back. Boyd couldn't be sure, but he'd gotten the distinct impression that Slauson had left specifically to track down Martha, whether as a meal or as a mate he wasn't sure, but Ives had let him go, implying he had little feeling on the matter either way.

Ives had turned bodily towards him now, his voice soft, imploring.

"All I ask in return is that you obey me... and come to my bed when I require it, which won't be often." Ives' gaze lowered slightly and Boyd took it as some small victory; that his lack of immediate compliance had shaken Ives to the core. Boyd heard Ives wet his mouth again, hesitating for a moment before clapping a hand on his shoulder in too casual a manner to seem anything but forced.

"Tonight though. I expect you there tonight," and in seconds he'd retreated back across the courtyard.

Hart jerked awake, shuddering as a cold breeze blew over him. The door had been left slightly ajar, though not by him, allowing a cool draft to blow in from the chimney in the living area. Hart shifted, reaching down to lift the comforter slightly, unsurprised to find Ives' thin frame curled at his side. Naked – he always slept naked, despite the cold. As Ives, when he dressed, he dressed well, otherwise he didn't at all. He could remember even in the unsettling mire that was the dizziness of his transformation when Colqhoun had disappeared to bathe in the river, and come back with hair cut and beard neatly trimmed, dressed in Ives' uniform, declaring that he was leaving to rendezvous with Slauson. Hart hadn't initially been able to form an answer, almost unable to believe this was the same man as Colqhoun.

It was rare however that Ives sought solace in Hart's bed, leading him to wonder what inspired the situation now. Most likely Boyd had kicked him out, or denied him access to his bed entirely, and since Hart could smell neither sex nor blood on him, he assumed the latter was true.

Ives was playing with Boyd a game he hadn't needed to with Hart; lulling Boyd into a false sense of security by allowing him to have his way, allowing him to refuse and resist his advancement. But, like a sulking child, Ives didn't like the slow pace at which he was being forced to play and sought refuge in the nearest bed he could find, which was Hart's.

You just wait 'til there's more of you, Hart told himself. He won't even give you the time of day.

That's fine, he thought, gathering the smaller man closer to the warmth of his own body. Then perhaps I can finally have some peace. And with that he fell back to sleep, and dreamed about the sweet promise of death.

AN: So yes, it's AU because it's pretty much set in an alternate timeline in which none of them died (after Knox anyway).

I apologise wholeheartedly for removing the sex scene, but I actually like it better with the initial "did they/didn't they?" at the start of the chapter.

I'm also not entirely happy with Boyd referring to Hart and Ives as "dog" and "bitch" respectively, but I just couldn't think of a decent euphemism for that analogy. I think, generally speaking, Boyd is the character I am the weakest at writing. I like him, but I genuinely don't understand him. He's quiet, brooding, kinda pathetic, lashes out unexpectedly, but wants to do the right thing in the end. Usually I can relate to characters at least a little, but with Boyd I don't get that at all. So, if he's OOC, that is why.