Rufus has no idea what 'hoodrat shit' is exactly but he's not going to ask for clarification. It doesn't matter. He wouldn't have agreed to this two years ago but a lot has happened during that time. There is a small, nagging voice in the back of his mind that pulls at him at quiet moments that he needs to stop, let his body heal from the effects of Geostigma, to let himself face what he had been through but he knows he can't indulge it. Instead, he throws himself into work and then into increasingly reckless ventures because it's just easier that way.

So that's why he grins at Reno's suggestion, sitting forward. "I'm not sure if I have anything sexy by hoodrat standards but I'm sure you can come up with something suitable for me to wear." The first time that he had met Reno he had ended up with a broken wrist and fractured collarbone after Reno had given him a large shotgun but after over a decade of pushing the limits of what they were able to get away with.

The expression on Reno's face is all the encouragement that he needs and he stands up, heading towards his bedroom. "Help me pick something out. I don't want to look too recognizable." Which was really asking the impossible but he didn't care.