Drop the Beat!

Bucky was a little bit surprised when the DJ turned to him. He was expecting some greasy guy who looked like he daylighted at a vape shop. He should have known judging by the music that this guy wasn't going to be anything he expected. Actually, the man looked respectable, even in his line of work.  

"No thanks! I'm really enjoying yours! Actually, you should play your favorites, because I may have to add them to my playlist!" Bucky shouted back, flashing a genuine smile in the man's direction. 

The guy was actually... pretty damn cute. He looked bashful, which amused Bucky. He wasn't bashful in a way that would keep him from doing his job, but just in a way that made him look endearingly fidgety. At first glance, Bucky thought he was young, but as he got closer he could tell that there was maturity on his face. Bucky was bad at guessing ages, but he thought maybe early thirties? He had scruff on his jaw and eyes that were grey, just a few hues off of Bucky's grey. 

Maybe it was the drinks that he'd consumed, but he was feeling oddly compelled to talk to this DJ with the good musical taste. He wouldn't admit it may have been because he felt a little smidgen of attraction towards the DJ. No, that was impossible. 

"Hey, are you permitted to drink while DJing? I could get you drink if you want. I-I mean, I could also get you something non-alcoholic because you're probably not allowed to drink while working. Obviously, that's pretty much a general rule," Bucky felt himself falling into that miserable state of nervous talking as he looked up at the guy. 

What made it worse was that it probably really sounded like rambling since the poor DJ probably couldn't hear him very well. Bucky was a whiz at flirtation.

Bucky felt a blush tinging his own cheeks, mostly from his stupid ramblings. Of course, liquid couldn't be around that equipment. He knew that, he wasn't stupid, he just didn't think of it at the time. Bucky coughed a bit to clear his throat and he shoved his hands in his pockets nervously. 

"Well, if you want to have a drink with me on one of your breaks, I'll be right over there," Bucky gestures to an empty high table that was a lot closer to the soundbooth than before.

That way he could ogle--um--listen at a closer range. 

He grinned at the guy, eager for the music to quiet so he could ask his name. He yelled once more, "If this isn't even your choice music, I trust you even more. Maybe you should play some of your stuff tonight. In fact, that's my request. I request you play something on your personal playlist!" 

With that, he stepped away from the DJ and gave one more smile before walking over to the table. He didn't know if he came off as smooth, but he knew he didn't feel like it. His hands shook from the interaction, despite the alcohol in his system. He had no idea what inspired him to talk to the DJ, but he wasn't going to regret it, he knew that.

Bucky watched intently while the man moved to the beat in the soundbooth. He looked a little awkward, but oh so cute while he danced. Half of Bucky wished he could get up there and dance with him. He had a flair for dancing, something that came with his love of clubbing. He just liked to have a partner that didn't take it too seriously, as he did. He propped his chin on his fist as he watched, impatiently waiting for the music to end. 

When it did and the DJ finally walked over to his table, looking so utterly nervous that it made Bucky's stomach flutter. 

A fluttering stomach... was he a teenager again? He was way beyond the getting off, getting out stage so it surprised him when he felt that childish feeling again. He wasn't positive, but he thought it might have been a good think. After all, his therapist said that he may have lack of interest in other in a romantic/sexual nature from the PTSD. It was a relief that the therapist was wrong.

"Hey there," Bucky returned, grinning back. 

Like the gentleman he was, he held out a hand and said, "Bucky Barnes. That was great DJing, man! It's a breath of fresh air to listen to someone tastefully choosing music for once."

He didn't want to come off too strong to him, so he went back to his non-creepiness (at least, he tried) by attempting to be polite. He sometimes forgot his manners in that respect.

"I lived in Brooklyn for a time, then moved over into Manhattan for a bit, not for long though. The rent there is crazy high," Bucky snorted, setting his drink down and fiddling with it as he tended to do while talking with anyone, "If you been there, you'd know. I like it here much better, it's a hell of a lot more quiet than bustling Manhattan. And no danger of alien attacks."

Bucky laughed at his joke, knowing so many movies made alien attacks happen on poor New York, New York.

"I mean, I miss living in the place where my mom raised me. It's unusual, but this is a good move for me. And I love to spend time at the clubs, so this was a good find. And... I think I like it even better now," Bucky ventured to hint at the fact that Daniel made this place better for him. 

He give a little smirk, almost becoming more shy now that he said something of that manner.

To not-so-gracefully correct this, he started to ramble again, "So! You've travelled a lot, huh? Just like adventuring or do you DJ at other places?"

Bucky could imagine this guy getting invited to other clubs, his DJing was that smooth.

Bucky felt himself blink, not because the job sounded ridiculous. He was a self-proclaimed actor. That's about as ridiculous as jobs got. More, it was how amazed he was that he actually did more things besides DJing. This guy definitely wasn't one dimensional. Bucky didn't know what to say about the ghost hunting. In his mind he visualized Daniel in the place of one of those clairvoyant characters from The Conjuring or Insidious, fighting demons and staving off possessed conduits.

"No way! What's the scariest encounter you've had so far?" Bucky found himself asking bluntly, his voice overly curious and excited. He skipped over all the questions that people normally had like 'what makes you think ghosts are real?' or 'Just how crazy are you?' Thing was, he believed in demons and ghosts. He had a very open mind and knew there were forces in the world that regular people didn't understand. He just simply liked to learn more.