Tracer closed his eyes against the back of his brother's neck, kissed again, sighed, and tried something he hadn't tried since he'd almost forced it and Harmony had been so cold.
He reached out with his own high, softer and less sharp than it had been in the City. Natural and quiet and colorful. He tightened his arms around Harmony and tried to share that, show him how connected they were. How much love there was. How many colors they were made of that weren't black, and white, and cold.