Revolutionary War Roleplay! [CLOSED]

Bailey sat up, arms lifting up in a broad stretch.

George's eyes flickered away, a blush rising to his cheeks at the sliver of skin visible at Bailey's waistline when he lifted his arms.

He let his arms down and scratched his belly, sighing contently.

George glued his eyes to the bedsheets, exhaling softly through his nose.

"I'm sleepy.." Bailey sighed softly

"Do you want me to leave? So you can go back to sleep?" He tugged lightly at his shirtsleeve.

"no," Bailey shook his head, "I like you here."

George nodded in response, then went still, as if waiting for his companion to make the first move.

Bailey began to smile, slowly.

George, who's focus was still directed mainly at his bedsheets, began to anxiously chew on his lower lip.

Bailey reached over and pulled him towards himself

He let out a tiny yelp of surprise, but quickly succumbed to Bailey's strong arms, pink spreading like a wildfire across his face.

"Are you okay?" He asked, very close to his face.

"Yes—" he practically squeaked, heart pounding.

Bailey leaned in– for a long time, simply hovered there.

George's eyes, which were round like copper coins, flickered down to the man's lips. His heart thundered away—he hardly dared to breathe for fear of scaring Bailey off.

The soldier pressed his lips to George's. Oh, the thoughts flew like thunderstrikes, what kind of terrible consequences could birth from this. But Bailey was never one to think too strategically—After all, he was only the drill sargeant. Strategy and worrying of the future was the job of the General.

George thawed instantly, the kiss shattering whatever remained of his fear of the future, his hesitation, everything that had been barring him off from Bailey. He melted against the other man, eyes falling shut, heat and adrenaline flooding his body.

Bailey didn't let it last very long. Not because he didn't like it, but because he wanted to make sure George was okay with it. He took a good look at the other's face, "Are you okay?"

“Y-Yes,” George murmured, adjusting his position slightly.

He smiled a little. "Was that your first?"

"There's too much to talk about," he murmured vulnerably.

"We have time," she whispered.

John flickered his eyes back to her face, speaking quietly, "I'm losing my best friend," he spoke. "I don't feel the same,"

"Oh, I'm sorry," she murmured, gently touching his shoulder.

He looked down, pushing wet hair from his face. "I'm cold," he murmured.

"Would you like warm clothes to put on while those dry? I can make you something to eat. Are you thirsty?" she asked quickly.

He nodded to all of those, leaning to peel off his sodden shoes.

She rushed away to prepare everything for him.

He sat down on the couch, his expression heavy. He knew he shouldn't be here, but he kept telling himself nothing would happen.

She returned with warm, dry clothes. "Here, Monsieur."