Arthur likes to believe that he’s above the embarrassing kind of displays Alfred has been guilty of since their wedding day—going around staring at his ring with a goofy grin on his face and laughing at what seems like a secret joke.
Meanwhile Arthur has kept his composure very well, thank you very much. Other than indulging in Alfred’s showers of affection he’s maintained a poker face. He was foolishly lovesick enough the day of and day after their wedding, after all.
So while Alfred is out probably bragging about how he’s now a married man, Arthur does the dishes at home. When the last dish is placed on the rack to dry, Arthur removes the gloves he’d worn to protect his ring.
But then—ah, his ring. As the glove slips off, Arthur can’t help but look at it and smile. His smile grows as pleasant warmth spreads from his chest to the tips of his body. He takes a step back and wraps his arms around himself, hugging himself as the warmth of bliss makes him feel light and—
He closes his eyes and sighs, his eyelids slowly opening as he exhales.
The slow motion becomes an abrupt snap as he hears the door open and he hurriedly stumbles back to the sink to make it appear that he’s just finished.
Alfred will be none the wiser, Arthur thinks as he smiles to himself one last time.