Work Text:
“Messy messy messy,” the Eridian fusses, two exosuit covered arms just casually lifting, cradling, Grace straight upwards as his third arm reaches for a bit of xenonite that had popped off from the project Rocky had been working on, “Grace still so messy, even with company!”
Grace, meanwhile, sits frozen, suspended delicately in the air by two of Rocky’s five limbs, pen between his lips as his glasses hangs precariously around his scruffy jawline and tries not to think about the fact he was just lifted out of the way like any other piece of furniture in the cramped laboratory.