It's not until the very end of the ceremony that Abe's plans fall apart.
He didn't need to have much of a plan, in the end. Mihashi went pale at the very idea of a full-blown wedding ceremony, and for his part all Abe really wants is a matched set of gold rings on their left hands. It's easiest, in the end, to just go to the courthouse to take care of the legal documentation, sign what needs signing and say what needs saying so they can get back to the usual domesticity of their life.
There's not much planning needed, but what there is Abe does, quietly, without talking about more than the necessities with Mihashi. And in the end Mihashi is okay, even if he falls in just behind Abe's steps as they're walking into the building, even if he's clinging to the other's hand like a lifeline. His fingers are warm in Abe's, and that tell has never yet led Abe astray. All he has to do is follow Abe's lead, and Mihashi is very good at that.
He almost doesn't speak the entire time they are there. Abe does the talking for the both of them, fills out the bulk of the paperwork so all Mihashi has to do is sign his name after a deep, deliberate inhale to steady himself. The letters are smooth in the end, showing none of the trembling edges Abe half-expected; his own name is far shakier, though he doesn't feel nervous as much as impatient, like if he doesn't hurry up Mihashi might change his mind and declare all this a mistake. But then the papers are signed, the vows are exchanged - in a breathless stammer from Mihashi and sounding too-loud in Abe's throat - and Abe's handing over one of the two bands so Mihashi can fit it on his finger.
It's odd to have Mihashi's touch stabilizing his wrist instead of the other way around. Abe can see his fingers trembling, thinks for a moment it's Mihashi's secondhand nervousness vibrating through his skin before he glances at the band the other is holding perfectly steady, before he remembers that after all Mihashi's hands are always steady under pressure. The gold is cool against his skin for the span of a heartbeat, weighted well beyond its actual mass with symbolism Abe can't let himself analyze right now, because Mihashi is letting him go, holding his fingers spread out for Abe to return the gesture.
It shouldn't be difficult. Mihashi's hands are very still, and Abe usually has good aim, and threading a ring onto a finger is not high on the list of challenging tasks in his life. But he misses his first attempt, fails the motion entirely, and when he tries a second time his hands are trembling so badly he has to hold Mihashi's hand still more to stop the shaking in his own than because Mihashi is moving at all. This time the loop catches, slides into place in spite of the numb cold spreading through Abe's fingers. Mihashi's hand is warm under his touch, almost blistering in comparison, and the light catches off the gold, echoes the shine in the unfamiliar band around Abe's own finger so their hands are caught together in the glow. Abe can feel the familiar texture of Mihashi's hand, the ridges of calluses that never entirely fade from under his skin; when he pushes up Mihashi tilts his hand, lets Abe's thumb press in against his palm so Abe's memory swamps him with the remembered heat of that first flushing awareness of affection from years before. His throat is tight, his eyes are burning, he can't even look away from Mihashi's hand up to his face, and then he blinks and his lashes go heavy with tears.
"Oh."He wants to bring a hand to scrub at his face but he can't, he can't let Mihashi's hand go, he can't remember how he ever let his hold go in the past. It seems impossible now, like the addition of rings has made Mihashi a magnet Abe can't even imagine pulling free from. When he blinks again there's the pull of liquid at his eyes, a tear overflows to splash onto the tangle of their fingers.
"Takaya?
Abe looks up before he processes that there's not even a stutter on his name like there usually is. Mihashi is staring at him, his eyes wide with concern, and Abe wants to tell him it's okay, I'm fine but he can't make him throat work.
He doesn't know what expression he's making. But Mihashi looks at him, and the frightened worry in the other's eyes fades away, goes warm and shivery and pleased even before Mihashi starts to smile, the soft, sincere smile that lights up his whole face.
It takes Abe a moment to catch his breath enough to smile in return, and longer still for his tears to stop. But Mihashi is smiling, and their rings are catching the light, and Abe's ring is as warm as his hand is, now.