My observations are incredibly keen. I've also noticed that your walk has changed now that we've been successful. A smug saunter, the kind you adopt when I meet you in the evenings. Though I can't fault you for either.

[John gives a slight hum at the kiss to his thumb before moving his hand to trace the other side of he mustache. Better not to leave a job half finished.

With a deft hand John plucks the wine from Dorian's grasp, taking his own long swig. When he finishes he holds the bottle in a circular grip between thumb and forefinger, resting his hand and the side of the bottle by extension on Dorian's hip.]

I do have more observations I could share, but it's only prudent that you have a go.