Wrong-er Bedroom!
The Engineer, glad in a Xavier Institute tracksuit and his omnipresent goggles, strolled up the hall to his bedroom.
"Fucking son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath, "motherfucking CPU-core gotta be replaced, then there's all the other shit... do it tomorrow..." Even though he was returning from the lower levels, his body lacked any sweat; droplets of water from the shower still remained in his hair and the smell of soap lingered in his nostrils.
He pulled the door to his room open and then slammed it shut. Only when he'd taken a step inside did he notice the other man; let's see, black body suit, looks kinda my size... wish I didn't leave the gun in my workroom..
Remember, dimension-fuck. Probably not hostile.
"Alright," he began in his typical jaded groan. "Who the fuck are you and what shithole did you come from?" He folded his own thick arms over his chest.