Peter B and Bobby D
"Living Brain? Isn't that redundant? What's the alternative, Dead Brain? Shit, I wish things were that simple," Bobby said with a snort as Peter regaled him with his current roster of annoying foes. "The restoration of the X-Gene renewed a lot of mutant prejudice after they all thought we were dying off. Led to some infighting, different people wanting different approaches, more violent approaches."
Thanks, Scott, Bobby rolled his eyes, and how'd that work out for you in the end?
"Let's see," he continued, tapping his chin, "after that it's been fighting my evil future-self. Total dick, scrawny fuck, big beard. Like, beard-directly-proportionate-to-dickishness Gandalf looking motherfucker." Bobby gestured, referencing a long beard off his chin. "Came pre-packaged with Charles Xavier's jerk of a son, not a fun time. Other than that recently I've had, like, Mister Sinister up my ass--"
He interrupted himself and fussed a little with Peter's shirt, mostly just to give himself an excuse to put his hands on the man's chest again, "Well, not up my ass, you know, like you." He gave Peter a look and grinned. "Apparently he thinks I'm beautiful and perfect and he wants to replicate my DNA and mutations. Which is obviously super flattering except for the part where he has to unravel my DNA and kill me to do it."