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After everything, Wei Ying can rest for a moment. He goes home - and he would never have thought that Cloud Recesses would be home, but it isn't, home now means warm arms and a soft Lan Zhan, incense and secreted chili oil, and the man that he married - and he can relax.
First he can toe his boots off, unlacing them and smiling down at the way the Jiang purple - and the memory of Jiang Cheng's grumble of if you're going to be around A-Ling for a while, which you clearly are. then you might as well stay properly, your room's still as empty as the day you left it is sweet in his mind - glints in the Cloud Recesses sunshine. He puts them to the side, slipping through the jingshi and smiling widely at the way Lan Zhan had clearly cleaned up before leaving for the day. (He's missed his husband.)
Second, he can start undoing the wristguards he keeps wrapped whenever he's travelling. They're as dark as they were back during the Wen Doctrination, but the small cloud embroidery, clumsily hand-stitched by his junior ducklings, makes him smile.
(The longing to be home, properly home, quickens his steps, though if asked Wei Ying would put up at least a prefunctory protest before falling dramatically all over his husband.)
Third he can cuddle Lan Zhan-
A-Yuan's just leaving, though his serene face - so much like your father, Wei Ying thinks fondly - lights up when he sees him. "Ying-ge!" He lets Wei Ying draw him into a hug; Wei Ying lets himself hold his part of his family close for a minute, at least, drawing comfort from his presence safe in Wei Ying's arms. (Ying-ge for when he's feeling soft and Wei-qianbei during official meetings and Baba for the moments between, when they're nothing more than family and friends and a child and his savior.) A-Yuan pulls away, grinning. "How is Baba doing?" He lets out a grunt when his best friend elbows past him.
Jingyi shoves himself between them, a wide smile already on his face as Wei Ying tugs him in, too. "I'm doing great," he answers A-Yuan cheerfully, strung too tight between his duties and his mind even as a mischievous smile stretches his lips, "has A-Yuan been keeping Jing-er in line?"
"Of course, Baba," A-Yuan answers even as Jingyi yelps in offense, "I'm always gonna do that- ow, Jingyi!"
"Take that back!"
It's no use trying to separate them after that; Wei Ying's giggling too hard, anyway, to try even a bit. But then there's a familiar cream from further inside, a door sliding open that he can hear even from here, and his heart swells even before the other man speaks. "Wei Ying is home."
He pushes past the juniors, flinging himself into his husband's arms and enjoying the effortless catch as Lan Zhan's arms pull him close in comfort. Something settles inside him, something sweet and sour and warm, because he's finally, properly, truly home now. (His kiddos bow - he can hear the rustling - and murmur deferential Hanguang-Juns at them before leaving when Lan Zhan disnisses them with a curt nod.)
... Lan Zhan smells like jasmine incense and ink, like the freshness of the outside world and the sheets that he can't wait to fall into for cuddles later, but for right now he's perfectly content right where he is.
(Third, Wei Ying counts, he can cuddle his husband and be held in return, can feel fingers gently kiss through his hair and undo the ribbon holding it back. He can feel the gentle press of lips against his forehead, can return it with a kiss to his throat, because he's home and he can relax now.)
(Fourth, he can fall asleep to Lan Zhan's gentle humming, head in his husband's lap.)
(Fifth, he can recount his night hunt in Yunmeng and subsequent almost-welcoming back into Lotus Pier over rice and fried meats, pouring a generous helping of chili oil ober his portion as he goes on about how Chengcheng apparently hadn't redecorted his room, had left it with all the entrappings of Wei Ying's life. Lan Zhan listens silently, as he always does, only moving to nudge Wei Ying's focus - and his chopsticks - back to his food.)