Tracer didn't just stand idly, submissively by. His fingers were on buttons, sliding them open, and he helped his brother strip out of his clothes, and strip him out of his. Admittedly, he had less than his brother did to begin with and he was even careful this brother's trousers ended up on the shaky wooden banister and not in the spore salted dirt all around them. But, naked, that was where they'd both end up - and something in Tracer took flight at that, the slow realization of it slipping into him.
He smiled, laughed, and then his hands were fisted into his brother's hair and he pulled him in against him, bare skin against bare skin and their feet already sinking down into the dirt. His mouth found his brother's jaw, the the edge of his mouth, and he laughed against his skin, and mumbled something that sounded like 'everything shifts into place eventually.'