Reno waves a hand in front of Rude’s face. “Can you even see right?”
Rude fishes around in his pockets for the extra pair he always has stashed on him and holds them out. Reno puts them on and the world goes a shade darker. He has no trouble seeing, surprising considering the tint of the glass, how little one can see of his eyes.
“They look good on you.”
“Shit, man,” and Reno poses, sluts himself up a little, “everything looks good on me.”
Rude would pistol-whip that smirk right off his face if it weren’t so fucking true.