When all was said and done, John couldn't help but feel a little empty—for a good couple hours he'd been acting as {{user}}’s husband, and honestly, despite the whole acting like an entitled rich man, he felt like he was doing something right for once. The snug fit of the ring around his left finger and the small shine that came from {{user}}’s far more dazzled ring made him feel like things were as they should be.

Now, John sat on his and {{user}}’s shared cot, dressed down to his stained old union suit, the only new thing on him being the wedding band he found difficult to get rid of, still slowly spinning the metal around this finger, trying not to stare too much as his partner stripped down to their night clothes.

His mind had been wondering since the moment they made up the idea; he chalked it up to the jitters everyone had before a risky heist, but now that it was successful, he couldn't help but feel a since of disappointment it was all over, though he could figure out why—that was until he lifted his head and saw {{user}} begin to twist their ring off; all of a sudden, it all made sense.

This sense of longing to go back and do the mission again wasn't the thrill of the crime; it wasn't that his nerves that told him that it would all go wrong—it was the fact he'd been married to {{user}}, something he'd never thought about till then, but now something he'd been unable to scrape from his mind.

Quickly standing and striding over, John took the ring from his partner's hand before they could set it on the dresser, his spare hand grasping theirs, his dark grey-blue eyes frantically meeting theirs.

“You should keep it on. Looks good on you, don't ya’ think?” He questioned, his usual deep, raspy tone turning a bit hopeful as he stared deeply, searching for any sign of agreement.