A/N: Hello lovely readers! Quick note here before you start reading-this is actually an heavily abbreviated version of my Day 7 Honor fic. The full fic is rated Mature, and I wanted to keep my Irosami week collection rated T, so the full story can be found under the name of "Practice Makes Perfect: Honor."

Go read the whole fic there, or enjoy the shortened less-smutty version here. Happy end of Irosami week!

Irosami Week Day 7 - Honor

Asami uses her feminine charm to cause her boyfriend to forgo his honor for one night.

Asami knew about honor.

Or, perhaps more accurately, she knew about "honorable" men and "dishonorable" men. The expensive and uptight tutors she had been subjected to throughout her childhood were none too vague on that front. An honorable man would hold open the door for you, lend you his coat when you were cold, and wouldn't lay a hand on you until you were safely married.

A dishonorable man, on the other hand, could be found in the seedy bars littering the working class areas of the city. He would have a menial job if he was employed at all, would spend most of his time inebriated, and would pressure "sweet" and "innocent" girls to do things they should only even consider with a husband.

And if her tutors could see her now, laying on her boyfriend's bed and blushing under his feverish kissing and roaming hands, they would tell her that she was dishonoring her entire family.

It was this situation, this feeling, fresh and raw like a new patch of skin growing after a burn, that made her question everything she had been taught. She felt oddly caught in the middle of her teachings, stretched on either side like both of her arms were being tugged in opposite directions. Iroh was an honorable man, she knew this to be true. He was polite and kind and would never take advantage of her. But when he kissed her right there and ghosted his hands up and down her sides like that, she knew that he didn't want to stop.

And what was worse, she didn't want him to stop. Not at all.

"Asami." His breath was hot and wet as he left kisses on her neck, right below her left ear. He bit her earlobe and rolled it between his teeth, leaving her gasping for breath.

"Iroh..." The name rolled off her lips like a fog, the feeling of his hands and his lips on her leaving little room for anything else. "Don't stop." She reached forward and undid the loose tie at the front of his tunic, letting the soft fabric slip off his shoulders. Only at his surprised jerk did she realize that, no matter what they had done in his personal quarters below the ship deck before now, they had always remained fully clothed.

He pulled back and gave her an inscrutable look. She knew this routine, they had danced it many times before. He would invite her to dinner on the ship, saying that he missed her and that they didn't get to see one another enough. She would comply, riding her motorbike over to the moored United Forces barge and spending dinner with her boyfriend and his crew before retiring to Iroh's personal chambers. Sometimes they would talk and sometimes they wouldn't talk, but it seemed like the not-talking option had been more prevalent recently.

Yet all the evenings ended in the same way: with Iroh standing up stiffly and explaining that he wanted to respect her honor before sending her on her way home.

Asami looked into his amber eyes and set her jaw. Not this time.

"If you say anything about my honor, I will throw you out the window. Don't think I won't."

His laughter was low and rumbling, and she felt it reverberating her bones as he rested his body on top of hers and gave her a not-so-chaste kiss.

"I am so far from my honor right now, I don't know if I'll be able to find it again."

Asami smirked and wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. She reached up to brush a kiss to his cheek and whisper in his ear.

"Good."