Work Text:
Names are magic, and magic is power, and power is moving heaven and earth through sheer force of human will. This is the driving principle behind all things large and small, whether it's a talisman imbued with as much might as the Stygian Tiger Amulet, or the meaningful aspirations assigned to someone's personality at birth.
Xue Yang knows this even if only instinctively; as a demonic cultivator the first and quickest thing one learns is that names are magic, and magic means recreating any possibilities one's heart desires. Which is why, after several years of living with Xiao Xingchen, he has decided to rename himself.
It was a long and arduous journey to become something other than the bloodthirsty guttersnipe he was long known as, albeit a journey he didn't initially choose. It happened through a kind of spiritual osmosis, an ongoing process wherein Xue Yang learned that not everyone or everything in the world is rotten, and angels can be found in the most unlikeliest of places - and people.
He still doesn't understand fully what love is. This is, he suspects, something he will spend the rest of his life learning. But it's a task he now looks forward to, having grown accustomed to its comforts even more readily than he did a penchant for violent (and messy) outbursts whenever someone was foolish enough to cross him in some minor way. It took him very much by surprise, and more than a little unease, when he realized it, but by the time he did, he also realized it was too late to back out of it without doing even worse damage. So for perhaps the first time ever in his life, he made a conscious decision to follow this path through to its not-so-bitter end, and thus far has been rewarded for his persistence beyond his wildest dreams in ways that are so much sweeter than the candies he favors.
When focused on a goal, Xue Yang is nothing if not relentless - some might say ruthless - in his pursuit of it. These travels demand much from him, though such prices are ones he's content to pay. He's used to hefty exchanges anyway, what with his work in cultivation. Part of this covenant means adapting, and that requires a new mindset. A new persona to be reborn in place of the old.
"I want a new name," Xue Yang tells Xiao Xingchen one day as they're gathering a few fish for dinner. Xiao Xingchen is terrible at fishing for the obvious reasons, so Xue Yang is left to do the bulk of the work, a chore he doesn't mind since hunting in any capacity is something he's always been good at.
Xiao Xingchen sits on the riverbank, cleaning the fish they've already caught. His hands peel, twist, and flick in smooth, swift motions as he guts and strips the bones from each fish. This part, he does well with, since he's learned to work from touch. "And why is that, A-Yang?" he asks in his usual dulcet tones.
There are no secrets between them now; all that has long since been dispersed with, when they realized their feelings for one another and when Xue Yang realized the inscrutable longing he'd been searching his entire life to fill was right here, in this place and with this man. He'd gone to confess his truth to Xiao Xingchen, prepared to accept whatever consequences would be, up to and including his own head on a pike, and the other had shocked him with the revelation that he'd already known for quite some time. It had come as no small relief to Xue Yang both to not have to pretend anymore and to hear the assurance that he was still very much wanted and cared for, scars, scrapes, mayhem and all, with the caveat of course being that he abstain from any more homicidal hijinks unless absolutely necessary (that is, bumping off the occasional fierce corpse or acting in self-defense of himself, and others such as Xiao Xingchen or A-Qing).
Xue Yang carefully wades through the shallow stream he's up to his shins in, his sharp gaze tracking the route of a nearby fish. That one is fat enough to make a nice meal of, and he readies his sword to spear it as it glides ever closer to him. "Because I have a new life now. Old names don't suit past lives, do they, Daozhang?"
"Hmm. This is true," Xiao Xingchen agrees. "How then, should I call you? Perhaps you would go by Chengmei, instead?"
"Fuck that." Xue Yang has never been particularly fond of that one. It's not exactly the worst, granted, but he's never felt it suited him all that well, and it wasn't one he'd have chosen for himself if he'd had any say in the matter. That little shit Jin Guangyao had a sense of humor twisted enough to rival his own.
Xiao Xingchen winces at the profanity, but it's a practiced reaction and more from habit rather than any real discomfort. He's long since used to his lover's brusqueness; indeed, it could be said that it's even one of the reasons he fell in love with him. Despite his taste for sweets, Xue Yang has never been one to sugarcoat anything and with most of the world confined to a rigid box of prescribed behavior, this unorthodox candor is something Xiao Xingchen finds as uniquely appealing as it is uncouth. He, too, has learned his own lessons, chiefly that life is not so black and white as he used to believe it was, and the shades of gray he now sifts through are far more colorful than he ever imagined them to be.
"Well, then. What would you like me to call you, if you have grown weary of A-Yang and do not wish to use Chengmei?"
"I don't know." Xue Yang pauses. The fish is within striking distance now. He raises Jiangzai and waits. "Something that fits me. Something that doesn't scream rich snob like those Jin creampuffs, or uptight killjoy assholier-than-thou Lans." Gods save the world from the boring rulebook of Gusu, Xue Yang thinks as he brings Jiangzai down in a lightning strike and pierces the hapless fish as neatly as any needle. Three thousand rules of suck, one thousand of which that stick-up-the-ass Lan Wangji had probably been personally responsible for writing and an additional thousand rules likely tacked on to the original list shortly thereafter, of which his husband the ever-cheeky Wei Wuxian, Mr. I'm-Such-An-Awesome-Yiling-Patriarch-Badass-I-Squeal-Like-A-Baby-At-The-Mere-Sight-Of-A-Dog, had doubtless himself been responsible for inventing just from alcoholic infractions alone.
Xue Yang is glad that Xiao Xingchen, and by extension Song Lan, never subscribed to any real dogma or scriptures, other than the ones they chose for themselves. Even as irritating as the latter could be in his own brand of rigidity, Xue Yang had noted that there was still a certain flexibility Song Lan possessed that the other clans do not, and though he hates to admit it, there is a certain appealing freedom of order in it.
He still has no idea what he'll do when or if Song Lan ever catches up to them. Xiao Xingchen has assured him, many times over, that Song Lan is not an unreasonable man and can be persuaded to err on the side of understanding if not complete forgiveness, if given enough evidence to warrant such a verdict. Xue Yang is inclined to doubt that, but hell, considering that he set out for vengeance and instead wound up with domestic romance, who knows anything anymore, and it's not as if he doesn't have, at the very least, a good swift kick in the ass coming to him for what he did to Baixue Temple. Oh well, he supposes he'll deal with that whenever he has to...
In the meantime there are other, more pressing matters at hand. The business of building a new home with Xiao Xingchen, and the forging of a new name for himself. This thought cheers Xue Yang even more than the triumph of the day's hunt.
"I see. Well, in that case, why don't we make a list of potential new choices and see which one you like the best?" Xiao Xingchen says as they pack up their catch and equipment, and prepare to head back to their humble but happy coffin house in Yi City. "Then, come next spring, we can make it official with a ceremony."
Xue Yang likes that idea. "Or, you could name me yourself, Daozhang," he affectionately suggests, gently bumping Xiao Xingchen's shoulder with his own as they walk side by side. "You found me, you claimed me, so you get naming rights..."
Xiao Xingchen's merrily tinkling laughter bubbles up quietly. "You are my love, not my pet. I think it only proper that you make this choice for yourself."
Xue Yang stops walking. "I'm making it for both of us, Daozhang," he says, his voice turning softer. "I mean it. I want a new name, a new life, with you."
Xiao Xingchen stops and turns back, coming to press a tender kiss on Xue Yang's forehead and nuzzle his cheek. "I know." He pauses, then adds, "I'm so very proud of you, A-Yang. I know how difficult it is for you sometimes. But no matter what, you keep trying and you're still here, and that is something I think is worthy of recognition. It's too easy, for me to forget, sometimes, that the world you came from is not the same as the one I grew up in. In a way, I suppose, I owe you my own life for teaching me that valuable lesson. It's one of the things that opened my eyes to my true feelings for you, and I have been ever grateful for our bond since."
Moved to tears by this heartfelt admission, Xue Yang blinks furiously to keep them from openly spilling over. "Stupid Daozhang. You don't have eyes in the first place," he mumbles, wrapping one arm around Xiao Xingchen's shoulders and pulling him closer so he can press his face against the other man's, breathe in his beloved's intoxicating scent.
Xiao Xingchen holds him closer, combing his fingers through Xue Yang's hair. "One does not need material eyes to see the truth in one's spirit. Have you not discovered that for yourself in our time together?" The warm smile is evident in his voice. "And if I can attain such enlightenment, I promise you, so too will Zichen, when he returns to us someday."
Xue Yang trembles, both from a peculiar fear and from an unfamiliar but pleasant anticipation. "I will hold you to that vow, dearest Daozhang. I should like such a promise very much, truly."
Later in the evening, after dinner is eaten and A-Qing and Xue Yang have their requisite squabble over whose turn it is to clean up the table and dishes, Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen sit down to discuss possible name options. They compile a list of about ten different choices, trying out each one aloud to see how it sounds, but none of them really resonate with Xue Yang. Vexed by this process, which is seemingly more complicated than he initially gave it credit for, he kicks one of their baskets across the floor and snorts as it bounces off the wall and comes to an awkward roll past Xiao Xingchen's leg.
"Patience, my sweet A-Yang. Naming is not an issue committed to lightly. We will find the one meant for you soon enough."
Xue Yang pouts. "This is harder than I thought it would be."
"Such is the way of all things worth fighting for and keeping, my love," Xiao Xingchen unhelpfully points out, which earns him a sour raspberry from his lover. The Taoist responds to this with an affectionate chuckle, which only deepens Xue Yang's scowl.
"Maybe I should go for a walk, think it over. Those last two names weren't too bad," he muses.
"Not at this hour. And it's raining. You don't need to catch a chill in soaked clothing."
Xue Yang glances out a window and sees that Xiao Xingchen is right. The rain is light enough that it wouldn't really bother him, but as the sun dipped in the horizon so too had the temperature, and with fall seesawing closer to the cooler edges of discomfort, the last thing any of them needs is a dose of pneumonia. He mutters a grudging agreement and slouches by the window to watch the steady plops of water bead against the shutters.
Rain is water, and water is life, he thinks suddenly, and is reminded of his lover's innocent wisdom. Somewhere in the restitched fragments of Xue Yang's tattered patchwork soul is woven the understanding that Xiao Xingchen himself is life, a wellspring which has sustained and nurtured him generously, once he allowed it the freedom to heal him in its own time, in its own methods. Xue Yang has never given much thought to rain before, since it makes street life that much more depressing, but being around Xiao Xingchen has illuminated some curious highlights for him, one of which is a newfound appreciation for the simple inherent elegance of weather.
Unbidden, inspiration whispers to him from a tiny unlit corner of his mind. "Yuzhai."
"Pardon?"
"Yuzhai." Xue Yang murmurs the name again, louder this time so Xiao Xingchen can hear its full implications. "That's the one. That's the name I want." He tries it again, liking the sound of it better each time its magic is summoned forth.
Xiao Xingchen tries it, and it sounds like so much exquisite nectar on his lips when he speaks it that Xue Yang nearly swoons. "It's beautiful. It's perfect for you, A-Yang." His smile broadens then as he corrects himself, "I mean, A-Yuzhai."
To celebrate this unexpected victory they adjourn to their bedroom and make love, unhurried in their mutually shared joy. Though the naming ceremony won't take place until months later, this night has sealed his - their - fate in Xue Yang's heart, as indelible as the heat of Xiao Xingchen's lips against his and the liquid pleasure pooling its signature tumescence in his cock. The rhythm of the refreshing thunder in his heart matches the primal drive of Xiao Xingchen's thrusts into him, Daozhang gifting him with new potent energy, new purpose. When Xue Yang climaxes it is more than just the force of orgasm washing through him. He is reborn, baptized anew with the power of his new name, his new life, a life he has always hungered for as surely as the oceans hunger to claim what rightfully belongs to them in the eternal mating of sea and sand.
It is time to bid farewell to Xue Yang and awaken as Xue Yuzhai, and he has never felt so alive as he does now with the power of love, the true immortality aflame in his body and soul. He has finally, at long last, come home to himself, his restless tides guided into safe harbor by the welcoming starlight of his gentle moon, Xiao Xingchen, to forever consume and be consumed in this sacred union of wind and water. For change may be the universe's only constant, but love endures throughout life and beyond.