Various pairings: Don/Colby, Don/Ian, Don/Colby/Ian, Colby/Ian, brief mention of past Don/Ian/OMC.

This fic is explicit in places.

"I've got this, Don."

Don glanced up from collecting the loose crime scene photos scattered around the war room to find David looking back at him.

"You should get some sleep," he said, gesturing Don to pass over the few photos he'd so far managed to gather. "Go home."

If he weren't so tired Don might have smiled at the easy authority David was developing these days.

"Thanks man," he managed, leaving David to clear the mess. He made his way to his desk, where he found another member of his team waiting for him.

"You want a ride home?" Colby asked.

Don wondered just when his badass Violent Crimes squad had turned into a bunch of tag-teaming mother hens, but right now he wasn't complaining.

"Sure," he said, grabbing his jacket and making an abortive reach for his papers before remembering the case was closed.

Colby was quiet on the way to the parking garage, which Don was grateful for. They'd gotten the perp before more people got hurt, but that still left three innocent men dead. Three families and who knew how many more lives devastated because of one man's twisted power games.

"Some days I wonder why we do this," Don said, sighing as he closed the car door.

Colby shrugged as he put the car in drive. "Someone's got to."

After a moment's pause to consider, or maybe it was just because he was looking for his swipe card to get out of the garage, he added, "Besides, we're good at it."

Don felt himself smile despite his best attempts because yeah, that was the goddamn truth. Sinking back into the seat, he closed his eyes, trusting to Colby to get him home.

.

He woke up to Colby's voice saying his name.

"You're home, Miss Daisy," he said when Don finally got his eyes to stay open.

Colby was carefully casual. The car engine was off but the key was still in the ignition and his seatbelt was buckled, leaving it completely up to Don. It always was up to Don, of course, but he appreciated that there were no assumptions being made.

"You want to come up?" he asked as he opened the car door. He didn't actually wait for an answer; he didn't need to. He knew Colby would be behind him as he let himself into his apartment.

It was still the mess he'd left it in two, or was it three, days ago: dirty dishes on the coffee table, and the towel from his last shower still haphazardly over the couch for some reason he couldn't now remember.

He heard Colby closing the front door behind him and, turning, gestured in the general direction of the kitchen. "Help yourself."

God only knew if there was any food there, but there were takeout menus if not.

"You want anything?" Colby asked him, on his way to the kitchen.

"Later," Don said. Right now he wanted nothing more than to get clean and fall into his bed. He heard Colby rooting around in the fridge as he stumbled his way towards the bathroom and peeled off clothes that he'd been wearing for far too long.

Stepping under the warm shower felt like coming back to life. He liked the pressure high so that the water was hard on his body, scouring off the dirt the job brought them into contact with, and right now it was damn near perfect. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sting of the spray and the way the water sluiced down his body, and felt himself begin to relax for the first time in more than a week.

He was just reaching out for the soap when he felt Colby's solid body press warmly against his back.

"Here," Colby said, "let me."

And Don did. He let Colby's hands work over his body, slippery with soap, and allowed his head to hang down so that, between Colby's touch and the water pressure, the knots in his shoulders and neck had no choice but to start to unravel. From there it didn't take long to realise that he wasn't quite as tired as he'd thought as Colby's hands continued to move over his body, and once Colby dropped to his knees in front of him it was no effort at all to bury his fingers in Colby's wet hair and push into his mouth, fucking in slow and easy. And damn, but Colby was good at that. Too damn good because Don wasn't going to last, and his head banged back against the tiles as he lost himself in Colby's mouth.

He was aware as if from a distance of Colby turning off the shower and rubbing a towel over him before manhandling him through into the bedroom, and any minute now Don was going to tell him just what he thought of being treated like a child, but maybe he'd close his eyes first, just for a minute.

Yeah, he'd show Colby who was boss. Any time now.