It was good that Opium did not see this as releasing control, as he rolled onto his back, heels sinking into the dirt and mussed hair dropping in and around his face. His hands found their way to his brother's hips, digging fingers in tight as he pressed back up, head dropping back at the feel of bodies connecting a little bit more - even if it was through layers of clothing.
A hand raised and fingers slid through Tracer's hair, fisting almost-curls and drawing him downward into another fierce kiss as, with one hand, Opium swiftly unfastened the god's jeans and started to shove them down his hips.