Jude and Classic arrived at their own pace; they knew that their old friend would know when they were near, and so no time had been agreed upon. Hippie and Classic Rock more or less had their own schedule, their own internal clocks that ticked in ways that defied the normal expectations of time keeping. Sometimes, this was charming. Sometimes, it was hellishly annoying - it would be miraculous that they would even manage to coordinate and organize their time efficiently on Saturday.
They finally stepped through doors after having parked the car on the next block - Classic had driven, his dusty but well kept 1964 Ford Mustang a shrine to the music he personified. The combined music of Jude and Classic's laughter greeted Dave as the two strode in, Classic's dark eyes meeting Dave's in greeting before taking the stairs two at a time with his long legs, Jude not far behind. The smells of the food, the sweets, the treats, the weed, and the smell of Marijuana himself, was enough to send Classic into a haze already.
A lazy grin offered to his friend, his friend who was soon to be married to the one drug Classic had stayed away from for much of his existence. Marijuana, who had shaped the music and the people that followed it in the early days. Marijuana, who left him. His best friend, who Hippie had whispered many a time in his ear, late at night, that they were soon losing, in a way. Initially, Classic had been confused, but he had lost Marijuana before. He could swallow it and bear it and smile and sing, for the fire within him would never die and the songs in his veins would never stop playing, regardless. Now, he was genuinely happy for Marijuana, despite the lingering cloud of doubt at the back of his mind - which had been suppressed for the past several months by various kinds of alcohol, a vice he could never quite drop.
This happiness shone subtly across his softly chiseled features as he entered the living room with Jude, sniffing the air slightly. Mm, brownies. He looked at Marijuana, smiling lazily - his trademark half-smile, half-grin that had a devil-may-care air to it.
"Smells amazing, man." He smirked. "Hope you're ready for a seriously good game."