It was doubtful that Omen would ever return to dining in the lab ever since Joe made him eat lasagna with him during an autopsy of a Darkseeker.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to put an entire stick of butter in this stuff, but damn it tastes good.”
The rec room was empty and had that typical smell of polished wood. Joe put his feet up on one of the coffee tables that sat between the two. He took his first bite and stopped mid-chew at Will’s prediction.
“It’s creepy when you do that,” he said with food still in his mouth. The precognition itself didn’t bother him as much as the fact that it came from his best friend, which he wasn‘t used to. Though Joe had the same ability when it came to dangerous situations, it was nowhere near as vast as Omen‘s. Recon struggled at developing that part of his mutation, something he continues to work on with the Professor and Jean.
Joe slouched down in his chair and pretended not to notice the walking hormone. He wasn’t afraid or embarrassed anymore, just wanting to avoid interaction all together.