[ It is, at the very least, a quiet that doesn't last for long. The expression implying he's asking stupid questions, yet another battery of queries to follow it, not to mention the tired irritation on Alhaitham's face that speaks to the fact that maybe he didn't sleep too well himself, and the architect doesn't know what to think anymore, despite the strange little thread of hope just moments before.

Perhaps it's dramatic, the way he suddenly stands from the couch and starts pacing in front of it, but Kaveh's always been one for a little bit of drama, and as much as there's a small part of his brain telling him he should show some restraint, let the other man rest, he can't quite stop his own irritation from driving the conversation forward. ]

Not everything can be helped by talking it through, Alhaitham. Has it occurred to you that maybe getting "jumped", as you so charmingly put it, is the kind of help I needed in that moment?

[ None of this, of course, explains the deliberate choice to flaunt himself this morning. Although the conversation does have him feeling oddly self-conscious, and Kaveh frowns yet more deeply, both hands reaching to try to tug his shirt into something of a more presentable state. ]

What would you have had me do? Bend myself over your desk and ask nicely for you to please fuck me until I wasn't thinking about it anymore?

[ ...Why does he feel like that's a question he's going to regret later? ]