[ Yes, well. Most things don't go like people expect them to but that's life. Don should be used to it-- Jim would be surprised if his life always went along as he expected it to. ]

That's not how it works, Don, [ He chides lightly, sighing. Moving closer, he takes a seat by the edge of the bed next to Don, reaching out to hold his hand, fingers threading together. ]

I like you. I don't care about where or when you come from. You think... differently than what I'm used to, but that's fine. I get it. But I can't do... this. I can't treat this as some kind of transaction. I like having sex with you, and if you want to, we can keep sleeping together, but if you're just doing it as some way to pay me back for whatever I do for you, then I'm out. It's like you feel forced every time you kiss me or touch me, and that just makes it feel wrong. I'm sorry.