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When Wei Ying manages to visit again he comes through the gates with a small wooden box in his hands.
It's raining outside, and because the visit hasn't been formally announced Wangji is the only one waiting near the tall stone wall, holding an umbrella above his head while the water soaks through his shoes. Wei Ying had secretly left a letter for him with a farmer, whom the Lan Sect bought some food from during the cold months, and it had been brought up along with a delivery.
Wangji has been waiting at the time and place his husband indicated for about a few minutes when he sees him climb over the tall stone wall surrounding the Cloud Recesses, jump down and run to him. Wei Ying nearly bowls him over when he throws himself under the cover of the umbrella, trying to protect the small box from the rain with his sleeves.
Once they are safely back inside the jingshi - the heavy rain helped shield them from view, so they should have a few hours together without anyone bothering them before Wangji has to go eat dinner in the hall with everyone else - they quickly change out of their soaked-through robes, which leave wet trails as they stumble in quickly. Wangji's robes are too small to fit Wei Ying but he had the wherewithal to hide spare black robes for his husband under the floorboards, in the place in which he had hidden alcohol and crumpled drawings in another life. They divest themselves and change into dry clothes, each on another side of the paper room divider.
Wangji busies himself with lighting the wood in the stove linked to his bedframe, hoping for it to heat the room as quickly as possible. While this Wei Ying still has a core, Wangji can still remember memories of his husband in another's weak body, shivering from the cold and falling ill way too often. They intrude upon the present from time to time.
They crowd around the table, sitting on the heavy rugs, cuddling against each other's sides.
From the box – which Wei Ying has laid next to the opening to the brick stove that transitions into the structure of his bed – rises a pleasant, sweet odor. It quickly wafts through the inside of jingshi, pleasantly accompanying the lingering odor of the sandalwood incense that Wangji likes to burn. He had aired the room out in preparation of Wei Ying's arrival, but the sent has permeated through the whole place; even in the shelves and books, when smelled from close, the sandalwood fragrance lingers.
His husband reluctantly gets up, quickly grabbing the box and sitting back down in his previous position, rubbing his nose against Wangji's shoulder. He opens the box, angling it to show its contents. There as small balls of dough rolled in hardened syrup, probably containing small bites of fruit inside it. Wangji has seen them sometimes when strolling through the streets of towns south of Lanling, when he went on night-hunts in that area.
Wangji turns his gaze to his husband. The light of the fire sets his dark hair ablaze, licking up to the bridge of his nose. Resting against him, Wei Ying looks soft, at ease, and beautiful. His eyes are half-closed, and his mouth is just slightly open, letting out little puffs of breath as the air around them warms up.
"I tried to cook for you, and it was a disaster," the immortal begins, "So I eventually got Wen Ning to help me with this. Now that he's not a fierce corpse anymore he's surprisingly nimble with a knife..."
Wei Ying shrugs, picks one of the little sugary treats up and presents it to Lan Wangji, gently touching his lips with the little ball, leaving a somewhat sticky feeling behind. It pushes against his teeth through his lips, and the smell is even sweeter up close: Wangji can almost feel his teeth hurting from the amount of sugar.
He bends his neck forward a bit as he opens his mouth, taking the sweet into his mouth. Wei Ying takes his fingers back, licking the leftover syrup off them. Wangji savors the food his Wei Ying took care to prepare, make and deliver to him and it tastes all the sweeter for it. The dough is still springy inside, sticking to his teeth. He eventually reaches the piece of fruit inside.
Wangji feels a slow heat spread on his tongue as well as the roof of his mouth and just looks at Wei Ying. The immortal has a contrite look on his face, so Wangji waits for the sensation to turn unpleasant – but it doesn't. Wei Ying nips at his lower lip, "It's ginger, not fruit. I wanted to try and make something that we could both enjoy as a dessert..."
The low heat fits perfectly with the syrupy honey Wei Ying probably coated it in, and the pieces of dough left keep the burning from ever getting too overpowering.
Lan Wangji leans back and Wei Ying just looks forlorn and sad, mouth dropping as his gaze falls to his knees.
He grabs another small ball from the box and pops it into Wei Ying's mouth while pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. Wei Ying's body relaxes, leaning even further on his little husband as Wangji uses his left sleeve to wipe the sticky residue his kiss left on the immortal's forehead.
"It is delicious," Wangji says.
The corner of Wei Ying's eyes soften and his eyelashes flutter. It's still raining outside and Wangji is caught between the wish of staying in this moment forever, with this soft warm feeling surrounding them and the rain pattering on the roof, or growing up and marrying his husband again as quickly as possible.
While this body was inconvenient, it leaves him the time to plan for that day. While Wei Ying hadn't had grand dreams about his wedding, just a marriage in red, a donkey and a little one, this time around Wangji will marry him in front of the whole world, with their friends and family present.
Well. Whatever Wangji wishes for, this moment will come to pass. He settles down to enjoy it for as long as he can, already planning to think about his wedding as soon as Wei Ying leaves. He also has to think about how he will thank his husband for this gift. Maybe he should visit Yunmeng...