Work Text:
“You're not sorry to go, of course. With people like us our home is where we are not... No one person in the world is necessary to you or to me.”
Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise
———
Just on the outskirts of Caiyi Town, the Lan-Wei Estate (as Lan Jingyi coined it) stretches across 21 lî, equipped with twelve large areas sectioned off into rooms and three vast pavilions named the Peony, the Gentian, and the Lotus. Why Lan Wangji found it appropriate to go with all flower names is beyond Wei Wuxian’s comprehension. When he asked, Lan Wangji merely smiled and claimed, “To commemorate.” Wei Wuxian isn’t quite why it’s necessary but most decisions made by his husband are respectable in his opinion, and with that, Lan Wangji carved the characters onto the borders and carried him through the doorway.
The Lotus Pavilion, as would be expected, is where Wei Wuxian primarily inhabits throughout the day. Its space is situated closest to the sun out of all the pavilions, and Wei Wuxian appreciates soaking in the warmth as he nestles in the middle of the space, tinkering away to his heart’s pleasure in his open workshop. The lotus pond Lan Wangji built as a wedding present keeps him company as he revises his notes and builds his prototypes. The soft, pink petals of lotus blooms scattered across subtle blue water sways with the gentle breeze while the fluffy, white ducks quack as they battle it out over the bread crumbs Wei Wuxian occasionally tosses over. It’s peaceful, warm, and comforting, the place where he finds himself most at peace.
Wei Wuxian adores the residence his husband so lovingly chose for them. He loves it, a home so close to Caiyi Town, where he can head to whenever he feels the need, munching away at strawberry tanghulu and spicy meat buns. It’s a place where judgement is not found, a place for Wei Wuxian to loosen his tension and scatter and pile his belongings in assurance they’ll remain.
But it’s not everything.
Every few months, when the weather is gentle enough to not worry Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian packs a couple weeks worth of supplies and saddles Lil’ Apple, and with a wave to his husband, he sets off and does as his xingan always has—goes wherever chaos is. It’s time on the road, helping the common people, extinguishing resentment, and taking in the open scenery with a breath that’s true to the heart. He sleeps under the glowing stars and bathes in the fresh streams and takes care in using his growing core, a gentle golden bud that gradually fights to bloom, instead of Chenqing to nighthunt and flows with the path, steadily and happily.
Restriction has never been a comfort to Wei Wuxian. It will never be a comfort to Wei Wuxian.
The Estate is home, the one thing he’s craved all his life, but even with all the efforts put in, it’s not quite enough to settle Wei Wuxian, to ease his agitations. It is not enough to hold him down. It is not enough to stay, and it is fine, he eventually finds out.
Lan Qiren openly criticizes him for his “abandonment” and “disrespect to his nephew”, a disgrace as a spouse as he lovingly says, and Lan Xichen secretly airs his concerns to Lan Wangji on their weekly lunches, a concerned but disillusioned outsider.
“Wangji, if something displeases you, you must express it,” Wei Wuxian overhears Lan Xichen say as he claps a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Wei Wuxian will understand.”
Lan Wangji just retorts with a stare so blank but sharp even Lan Xichen stumbles to receive, greeted far more often with this conversation than he appreciates.
Ah, go, Lan Zhan, go, Wei Wuxian cheers as he stuffs the rice cake into his mouth and pretends he’s not eavesdropping. The rabbit in his lap snuffles in its sleep.
The children don’t understand either, all their responses varying in confusion and disbelief, too young to “get it.”
“It’s stupid,” Jin Ling claims with a sharp scoff so like his jiujiu, Wei Wuxian finds himself smiling. He crosses his arms and cocks his hip as he eyes his dajiu. “Why leave all the time? Isn’t love supposed to make you want to be with someone all the time?”
Ouch, Wei Wuxian thinks and conceals a flinch with a smirk and a, “Ah, how is my dear nephew so experienced in love now? Are you smooching with someone?” He cackles as Jin Ling reddens a deep rouge and sputters over his shrimp.
Lan Sizhui remains polite as always but uneasiness dwells in his eyes, something neither of his fathers can seem to dissipate. But he’s a good boy, the best in Wei Wuxian’s heart, and he keeps his silence, putting his energy into silencing Lan Jingyi’s commentary before they can reach his baba’s ears.
My a-Yuan, Wei Wuxian thinks as he ruffles his son’s hair. Don’t worry so much. Lan Zhan and I will never part.
Ouyang Zizhen seems to find some positive outlook on it, albeit a few points off the mark. His visits to the Cloud Recesses with his father sometimes coincides with Wei Wuxian’s occasional drop-ins to visit.
“Absence makes the heart fonder,” he sighs, already pulling out his brush and a stack of paper. “You have the right idea, Senior Wei.”
Like Wei Wuxian said, a few points off the mark.
Compared to the others, Jiang Cheng is the most quiet, uncharacteristically so, and merely side-eyes his estranged brother. He knows Wei Wuxian too well, understands the aching part in him that yearns to head in the same directions as the land’s autumn leaves but judges and pretends not to care. He doesn’t understand.
That’s fine. It doesn’t matter if he can’t. (Won’t)
Wei Wuxian’s heart is not like that of Lan Wangji’s many rabbits. It’s not that fragile, not too at risk of failure, and Wei Wuxian accepts the disapproval with a crack of a joke and a wide smirk. It doesn’t bother him, truly. Because, when the time comes for him to follow a swallow’s path and tighten his boots, his husband is the one to wrap his fur winter robe tighter around his xingan and adjust Wei Wuxian’s packs more securely onto Lil’ Apple. He is the one to kiss him deeply before he departs and is the one to welcome him genuinely every time he finds himself needing home.
Lan Wangji’s opinion is all that matters, all that Wei Wuxian cares for in this matter.
Love is not a conditional matter, a stagnant piece that binds Wei Wuxian, as every day with his zhang-fu slowly teaches him, and Lan Wangji could never tether Wei Wuxian to one spot, could never chain him down. Love brings him back home and love lets him free.
(Gentians float outside an abandoned residence, drifting, falling, and finally free)
The nights before he senses the itching need that spikes in Wei Wuxian and he sets him free, Lan Wangji rolls between his thighs and kisses Wei Wuxian so hard and so true his legs tremble and an involuntary moan releases.
“I will help you pack after,” Lan Wangji promises as he caresses his husband’s cheek and nuzzles his nose in an eskimo’s kiss.
“Open for me, Wei Ying,” he also murmurs, falling so deep into his love, it feels like they would never part. His hands never part from pale, slightly-curved hips.
“Come home to me,” he says and bites his lover’s neck so sharply and so hard that Wei Wuxian finally comes, white sparks floating in the back of his vision.
Yes.
“Always,” Wei Wuxian promises and kisses Lan Wangji in a reminder that his heart remains in his embrace, forever, forever, forever.