forum Revolutionary War Roleplay! [CLOSED]

Started December 04, 2018 by @KalamariCakes

tune

(XD)

George shook his head, amused. “Sit down, Bailey.”

"Youu sit down, fiendish sir!" He cried dramatically.

(He’s killing me 😂)

“I am sitting,” he laughed, “Come here…”

(chants
sit on his lap, sit on his lap)

He sauntered over, looking like he was walking on stilts the way the drunk man swayed. Among the other drunk patrons, Bailey was free to act crassly without drawing much attention. He bent in front of George and picked up his hand, put the wooden pawn in George's palm. "Take care of it," he spoke in a drunk whisper, "It's insumamontibstantially.. special," he misspoke terribly.

“It’s what?” George tilted his head and gave another perplexed chuckle, closing his fingers above the pawn.

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.