Tracer shuddered at the feeling of skin against skin, and his body knew how to move here even if the rest of him was only buzzing with the feel of it, how different, how warm it was - only the slight edge of research that reminded him of his younger brothers. Everything else felt of roots and petals and good earth, and Tracer's grinned turned a little wicked when Opium's fingers scratched down his stomach - he wanted to erase that colder edge, wanted this as natural as it could be. He wanted to bury his brother in the fucking earth and feel how warm it could be if they sank into one another and into it.
With a slow, thick sort of hum his hands found his brother's shoulders, squeezing him as he rolled them both over, until Opium's back was to the dirt, instead, and he was settled against him, grinding down.