Surrendering the bottle without complaint after he's topped off his glass -- Ivan knows better than to think he can hold a bottle of his uncle's wine from the man himself -- the frown stays, because he feels like there's something there. Lurking behind what could be construed as a positive comment from his uncle about his sex life.

"Er." He starts, considers. "Thank you, sir?" His voice creeps up the register at the end, waiting for the shoe to fall. Because there's one. He knows there has to be, damn it.