Work Text:
Yizhi trails his fingers across Shimin's spinal brace. He shivers, mumbles something incoherent into the pillow, then turns to watch him out of the corner of his blurry eye. His face is fixed onto the spirit metal, observing its elegant laying, its powerful and delicate form. It's still unusual to feel through, even after so many years.
Shimin and Zetian have seen each other's plenty. Yizhi's back instead has twisting tattoos and silky skin. Yet, even so, he's endlessly fascinated by both of their spinal braces.
He leans forwards. Shimin hears the rustle of fabric and the heat of his hands against his skin. He can hear Zetian turn over in bed, shifting her attention towards her. Shimin gasps as his lips connect with the spirit metal. Slowly, he melts into the blankets. He wants Yizhi to do it again.