"Gunpowder," Tracer thought he knew, drawing the knowledge up from somewhere and not sure that it was true. He grinned, though, shrugging, and he picked up Speed's hand from his arm with his other hand, instinctively and impulsively raising it to his lips and smacking a soft kiss to his brother's palm, then his wrist. He wasn't sure what drove him to do it, but he wasn't particularly embarrassed about following the instinct.
"Are you nervous?" His brother was always twitchy, always on edge, and Tracer was used to it. But they were going home, and he thought it was a pretty valid question. He knew what Mari had meant to Speed, before.