forum Revolutionary War Roleplay! [CLOSED]

Started December 04, 2018 by @KalamariCakes

tune

He bent down really far, almost fell– and braced himself on the seat of the chair, beside George's leg. "It's special," he slurred, "That'ssss an order, soldier," he grunted lazily.

George’s eyes flickered down to Bailey’s hands then back up to his eyes. “Yes, sir.”
(Wait, are they at home?)

Nah, not yet )

"Yeah?" He breathed back in a rasp. His breath smelled like fermented raspberry.

(Oh okay
Cos I asked earlier if we were skipping to when they got home, and you said yes)

“Yeah.” George swallowed anxiously.

OhH my baD, BUT i have an idea for their horseride home to make up for my mistake xD ;) )

He smirked crookedly, "You're so.. Mm." Bailey snorted softly.

(lol sounds good)

"I'm so what?" George really was doing his best not to become distracted by Bailey's gorgeous, lopsided smile, but he was failing miserably.

"So very." He cooed obsessively.

By now, George's cheeks had flushed a rosy shade of pink. "So very… what?"

"So.. very," he struggled to express himself, he was close enough that George felt his breath brush across his cheeks.

His heart thundered in his chest like a stampede of wild horses.
"Very—Very what?"

"Mm.. There's.. Too many words." He hummed drunkenly.

George had forgotten how to breathe. Bailey's mouth was so close…. so close…. "Right. Um—Thank you."

"Mm." He grunted again, dilated eyes fixating on George's nose.

"Do you—Should we go home?" he offered, swallowing. "You're—You're pretty drunk."

"Prolly," he sighed, and slumped down on George.

The Quaker man laughed from where he was topping drinks, "I can help you get him on a horse," he offered.

"No-!" Bailey gasped dramatically, "I'm fantastic!"

George's face went bright red at the sensation of Bailey's body blanketing his. Acutely aware of every place their skin met, he nodded quickly towards the bartender. "Yeah—Thank you."

After some messy maneuvering, George and Mr. Hawsworth managed to get Bailey onto the horse. George would have to sit behind Bailey and steer– to make sure the man didn't slide off. Between George's arms, there was a gauruntee he couldn't squirm away.

George thanked Mr. Hawsworth and spurred the horse forwards, leaning heavily on Bailey.

"You smell like bourbon," Bailey rambled, peering up at him, "I'm.. Mm, I'm burning up right now.."

"It's freezing, Bailey, and I barely drank anything," he protested, surprised when he didn't stammer once.

"Lemme– lemme cool down!" He demanded like a toddler. He became surprisingly annoying when drunk.

"How am I supposed to do that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow despite his evident nerves.

"Lemme offfffff.." He pleaded in a long whine.

"We're almost home…" George muttered. "Come on, just a bit longer."

Bailey started to worm his way from George's hold, irritating his poor horse in the process, who huffed at its owner with frustration.

"Hey, hey, calm down," George hastened to say. "Um—here, I'll make you a deal."

"What?" He breathed in a huff.

"Stay on the horse and be good until we get home. Then—Um, you can have any reward you want."

"I'm going… To have a heat stroke," he gasped in retort.

"Come on…." he persisted, leaning back a little.