Trace responded well to that, mumbling something incoherent when his hair was pulled but then moving almost fluidly to help shove his pants down, maneuvering them off of his legs and kicking them aside, then almost smirking in his loose, happy sort of way as he reached to do the same with his brother's.
"So different," he mumbled, that time coherent. "They're beautiful, perfect, but they're still so much colder."