Work Text:
Wei Wuxian’s husband was far too cruel.
He thinks he’s rather low maintenance; sure, he has a self-sacrificing streak that gets him lectured by Lan Wangji and the juniors alike, and maybe he’s still a chronic rule breaker, but it wasn’t his fault the Lans banned any kind of joy in life! So really, all Wei Wuxian was particularly needy about was attention. He thinks he deserves it after all these years. And really, Lan Wangji was even worse about it at times, he just hid his need for spousal affection better.
But not now, when he has resolutely refused to give Wei Wuxian a kiss for four days. Four days! Even as Wei Wuxian slaved away at his bedside, tending to Lan Wangji’s every need, he still won’t get anything more than a squeeze of the hand and a gentle thanks.
Wei Wuxian huffs from his spot next to his husband's bed, where the latter is sleeping peacefully, the only tell of his sickness being the slight flush of his cheeks and the dark circles painted under his eyes. One of the Lan doctors had already assured them that this was nothing serious, just a seasonal illness that had been traveling around Gusu. Seeing as Lan Wangji was an extremely important member of the sect, he was still receiving the utmost care. Which should mean that he’s fine and Wei Wuxian should get his damn kiss.
His moping is halted when a gentle hand reaches up to smooth the wrinkle between his eyebrows. Lan Wangji blinks blearily at him, but still gives him a small smile that melts Wei Wuxian’s heart.
“Lan Zhan! Lan er-gege, my love, how are you feeling? Your fever broke last night, you should be right as rain in no time,” he bumbles. He might have a bit too much energy from doing nothing but surveilling his husband over the last few days. “Your Wei Ying has been so worried, you know.”
Lan Zhan raises an eyebrow. “Wei Ying looks tired.”
“Of course I am,” he waves his hand vaguely. “Keeping a constant vigil on my beloved, not knowing if he will even wake up? It’s been awful, Lan Zhan! You must make it up to me!”
“Mn. Wei Ying is good to this husband.”
“I’m glad you agree,” he says, moving from his seat to perch on the bed next to Lan Wangji. He leans down for a quick peck, because it’s been ages and he thinks he’s going to burst.
He’s very rudely interrupted by a hand pressing against his mouth. “Wei Ying. You will get sick.”
“Aiya, Lan Zhan! You’re all but cured, and I’ve been terribly lonely!”
“I’ve been with you the whole time.”
Wei Wuxian drapes himself dramatically over Lan Wangji’s legs. “Lan Zhan, are you teasing me? You are! You’ve spent more time sleeping than talking to me, you know. I’ve been miserable.”
“If Wei Ying gets sick, he will be even more miserable.”
Wei Wuxian’s eye twitches. He lets out an undignified noise of frustration, sitting defeatedly back on his chair. He wants to sulk, but he knows it’s far more important to care for his husband, so he grabs the glass of water sitting on the table and helps Lan Zhan sit up to drink.
He supposes if Lan Wangji could wait thirteen years, he could wait another day.
The next day, Lan Wangji is well enough to start sorting through letters and petitions, albeit from the comfort of his bed. Wei Wuxian thinks that he’s incredibly patient, being able to stay holed up like this at the doctor’s insistence. The last time he’d gotten sick, Lan Wangji had caught him trying to sneak out of the Jingshi at least three times, and he had even succeeded once. (It was not worth the devastating look on Lan Wangji’s face, and Wei Wuxian had resolved to be a good patient for the rest of his illness.)
Wei Wuxian was bored enough that Lan Wangji had all but begged him to go spar in the training grounds, or do literally anything else, because his constant buzzing and bumbling and mumbling and complaining was “going to make me ill again, Wei Ying.” So it had been decided that Lan Sizhui would take up the role as caretaker while Wei Wuxian burned off his excess energy. The boy had been coming to the Jingshi almost daily to check on his father, and was more than willing to spend some time with him.
So Wei Wuxian hatches a plan.
He heads to Caiyi for the day, determined to find something suitable to surprise his husband with. By the time he can hear the raucous buzz of the town, he feels far more relaxed than he had been in the Jingshi. The walk and the fresh air soothed his mind, and he found himself giddily heading towards the markets.
He buys himself a spicy pork baozi, and a very not-spicy black sesame baozi for Lan Wangji. Now he just needs to find a gift, one that screams ‘I love you and I would really like some attention now!’
He stumbles upon a vendor selling handmade hairpins. They aren’t particularly sumptuous; they’re made entirely of wood, but the carving is intricate and eye-catching. Some are painted to look as though they’re made of jade, while others are simply lacquered, emphasizing the simple beauty of the carvings.
“Gongzi, these hairpins will surely woo your lover! Come, look at this one,” the vendor says kindly, holding out a black hairpin decorated with dainty white flowers. It’s beautiful, but doesn’t seem particularly… Lan Wangji.
“Hm… what about this one?” He asks, pointing at one of the unpainted hairpins. The wood is light, the grain subtle but striking. The shaft is simple, with only a slight curve to give it an elegant look. The head depicts a rabbit leaping, connected only to the arching wood below it by its front and back feet. It’s remarkably simple, but made with utmost care. Lan Wangji would surely melt at the sight of it, and be unable to hold back from his husband. Wei Wuxian allows himself to indulge the thought for a moment.
The vendor smiles, her eyes lighting up. “Ah, you have good taste, Gongzi. Not many people notice the simpler ones, but it’s one of my favorites. Anyone would be lucky to receive such a thoughtful gift.”
Wei Wuxian thanks the woman kindly, and tucks the hairpin securely in his sleeve after paying her the requested price, plus a little extra. He didn’t need to be so frugal with his money these days, and the people of Caiyi were always kind to him.
He wanders the town for a few hours, stopping here and there to look at the wares or grab a bite to eat. By the time he starts walking back to the Cloud Recesses, his sleeve holds the hairpin, the sesame baozi, and a bright red pinwheel for Sizhui (Wei Wuxian can already see the way his ears will turn red, insisting he doesn’t need something so childish). Two snow white jars are hanging from the string in his hand, occasionally clinking together softly as he walks.
It’s about dinnertime when he arrives at the Jingshi, and Sizhui is animatedly recounting some story about Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi fighting on a night hunt. Lan Wangji looks a bit worn, but content nonetheless.
“Sizhui, Lan Zhan! I missed you both dearly,” Wei Wuxian coos, making his return known.
“Wei-qianbei, welcome back,” Sizhui says, standing to greet him. “I trust your trip was pleasant?”
“Mm… it was nice, but absolutely dreary without my family there,” he laments, pulling the pinwheel out of his sleeve. “I just had to get you something, or I’d never forgive myself.”
Sizhui’s face heats immediately, and the tips of his ears are glowing red. “Wei-qianbei, that isn’t necessary…” he trails off, but his eyes are glittering.
“Nonsense. I seem to recall owing you one, anyway. Now, if it’s alright with Hanguang-jun, you should go eat before it gets too late.” He hands the pinwheel to Sizhui before taking his seat next to his husband, who nods affirmatively.
“Thank you for your company, Sizhui.”
Sizhui stows the pinwheel in his sleeve before giving a bow. “May your recovery be swift, Hanguang-jun. Ah, and thank you, Wei-qianbei,” he says, bashfully meeting his eyes before rushing out the door.
Wei Wuxian laughs heartily. “Ah, that child is too sweet. Too good, my heart will burst!”
“Mn.” Lan Wangji smiles from his place on the bed. The letters he had been pouring over are set neatly on the table now, and Lan Wangji is sitting primly in his bed, sheets neat and unwrinkled as though a person hadn’t been occupying it for days.
“Lan er-gege, how are you feeling? Better? I was worried all day about you, you know.”
“Much better. Tomorrow I should be able to return to my work.”
Wei Wuxian groans. “Aiya, who cares about work, what about your poor husband? I’ve missed you terribly, you know. Here, I got you something too.” He digs the baozi out and hands it to Lan Wangji first. “I know dinner should be coming, but you rarely get a treat like this, hm?”
“Mn. I will eat it with my meal. Thank you, Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji gingerly sets the bun down on the table next to him. He looks happy and relaxed, and Wei Wuxian can’t help but grin at the contented expression.
“Okay, one more thing. Close your eyes.”
Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow, but acquiesces. Wei Wuxian retrieves the hairpin and presses it in his waiting husband’s hands, unable to suppress his grin.
“You can look.”
Lan Wangji opens his eyes slowly, with all the patience of someone who is not about to receive a gift from their very loving spouse. When they land on the hairpin, they widen almost imperceptibly- his expression is as neutral as ever, but Wei Wuxian is practiced in the art of reading his face. He looks more than a little pleased at the object in his hand.
He looks up at Wei Wuxian, allowing the smallest of smiles to grace his lips. “It’s beautiful, Wei Ying.”
“Mm, isn’t it? Only the most beautiful gift is suitable for Hanguang-jun- ei?”
Wei Wuxian stutters to a halt when Lan Wangji brings a hand to his cheek, gently pulling him closer.
It worked!
He closes his eyes and eagerly leans in for a kiss, anxious to finally have his husband after so long…
“How kind of Wei Ying to offer me this for nothing in return,” Lan Wangji whispers in his ear.
His eyes snap open, disbelief coloring his features.. “Y-you- Lan Zhan! ” He sputters. “You tease! You tease this poor husband!”
“Mn.”
“Don’t ‘mn’ me, you did that on purpose!”
The next morning, Wei Wuxian is woken up by the soft press of lips against his own, and he thinks it was probably worth the wait.