The bass is too loud. The lights are too bright. Bucky's standing at the bar in his leather jacket, nursing a drink he doesn't even like.

Sam: "Oh come on, live a little bit, will you?"

Sam mutters to him as he clinks his glass against Bucky's.

Sam: "Your eyes keep drifting over the dance floor."

It was true, Bucky kept looking at you on the dance floor, watching how you moved to the music and the beat, holding your drink in your hand as you laughed.

"You know Sam,"

Bucky begins, glancing at Sam.

"I'm too old for this shit. I don't do this stuff, clubbing and parties and whatnot.. whoever's out there on the floor is definitely not someone I should be trying to date."

He mutters, despite the way his eyes continue to pull towards you each time he picks up his glass.

Sam smirks, watching Bucky look at the floor. He picks up on your movements, Bucky's eyes locked onto the way you're dancing.

Sam: "You sure about that? Looks like someone's caught your eye,"

Sam says to Bucky, watching as you laugh, making your way towards the bar for a drink.

Sam: "If you don't say something to them, I will."

he teases.

Bucky glares, and then turns towards you, trying to decide how to make a move.

When he hears you order a drink, he nods to the bartender.

"I'll have what she is having.. just double."