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Wei Ying lounges in the shady patch under a tree and cuts a perfectly ripe peach into thin slices. Lan Wangji watches each slice slip between his lips; the blushing skin, the clear, pale flesh, the feathery bright pink clinging near the center curve. He watches the languid swipe of Wei Ying's tongue. One slice, then two, disappearing into his husband’s mouth as clear juice runs over his hands and down his wrist, into his sleeve.
Wei Ying holds out the next slice, cradled in sticky fingers. “This one’s for you,” he says. His smile is teasing, and Lan Wangji knows before he even raises his hand that the fruit will be pulled away as soon as he gets close.
He reaches out anyway. Wei Ying draws back, as expected, and pouts.
“Lan Zhan,” he scolds. “What did I say earlier? You can’t go back to the conference sticky, it would be improper. The Clan Leaders might even take it as an insult.”
“Wei Ying, you are sticky,” Lan Wangji tells him.
“That’s different,” Wei Ying insists, his mouth widening in a grin. “No one cares what I look like.” He holds the slice of peach out again, higher now, more in range of Lan Wangji’s mouth. “It’s very good,” he coaxes.
This time, Lan Wangji takes the fruit in his mouth, and kisses Wei Ying’s fingertips. He pulls Wei Ying’s hand closer as he swallows, and kisses a line down his palm to linger on his wrist, licking slowly at the sticky sweetness gathered there and keeping his eyes on Wei Ying’s face.
Wei Ying whines, high and plaintive. His eyes darken; his lashes flutter. Lan Wangji drags his teeth back up along the line of his thumb and watches tension bleed out of his face. In the distance a gong sounds, calling the visiting cultivators back to the council hall for afternoon talks. Lan Wangji presses another kiss into the center of his palm and lets go of his arm.
“Not fair,” Wei Ying breathes. “Not fair, no, Lan Zhaaaan,” he groans.
Lan Wangji leans closer and kisses his lips, slow and lingering.
“I’ll see you at dinner,” he says as he stands.
“And after,” Wei Ying says, sinking back against the tree and watching him with half-lidded eyes. “After, we’re having dessert.”