Damian took a deep breath, glancing over at the figure slumped in the car beside him.
They had been driving for hours. Damian had lost track at this point. He just knew that he kept having to switch radio stations - nothing ever played anything good. There was just the sound of the radio, the rumble of the shitty country highway under his tires, and Jon’s soft snoring in the passenger seat. It was pitch black outside, on the rare occasion that they passed someone on the highway, their headlights were blinding. Damian’s ankle ached from where he had sprained it, and his back was sore. His butt had gone numb about an hour ago.
He could ask Jon to switch, he could pull over into a gas station, and wake him up with a gentle shake and a soft kiss. He could do that, and then he’d be able to lay back and sleep and relax. But he wouldn’t do that. Jon needed his rest. Jon wasn’t used to pulling all nighters, while Damian was. He’d gone days without sleep before, he could do a 20 hour drive no problem.