Who: Dave Henderson and Dylan Hayes What: Dinner! Where: Burger joint. When: Wednesday night. Warnings: Possible drug use and sexuality.
The party, dancing with Dylan, had made Dave want to take Dylan out on a real date, far away from any immortals. Dylan was, after all, his boyfriend, as odd as having one of those was to Dave. Still, he had dressed the only pair of black jeans he owned that weren't ripped from skateboarding or burned from chunks of ember that had fallen from pipes and bongs. The shirt, however, was a harder choice. But he had gone with a light blue button-up, left unbuttoned with a white tank top underneath and as he drove them out of Marijuana's territory - not too far away, just to the edge of his boss' inner sphere of influence - he was confident that he looked... well, somewhat decent. The fact that he was getting skinnier and more angular by the day couldn't be hidden by any sort of fashion decision but at least he didn't have the usual dark circles under his eyes.
Getting out of the car, he grinned as he hurried over to the passenger side to open the door for Dylan. This wasn't a fancy date by any means but he still wanted to have it feel out of the ordinary for them. And seeing as their 'dates' usually consisted of shooting up and having sex, well, they were already firmly departed from their usual routine.