entitled: the gentleman
summary: Where Korra drinks and Iroh is not impressed with the outcome. —IrohKorra. Canonverse.
rating: T
disclaimer: I do not own.

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General Iroh did not like to drink.

He just wanted to make that clear to a certain Avatar that was pushing liquor in his direction expectantly.

"Korra," Iroh said sternly, his face serious, "I don't drink."

Korra smirked—tauntingly.

"Don't, or can't?"

Iroh stiffened slightly, but smiled. "Now, now," he said through clenched teeth, patting her head lightly—because truly, she was a child—"We both know you can't provoke me."

Korra swatted away his hand and persisted. "Scared you can't hold your liquor, General?"

Iroh tried to he well-mannered—a gentleman—so he but this as courteously as he could.

"Adults," which, that's him, "don't play silly little drinking games with children," and yes, he meant her, "Finish your drink Korra, and I'll take you back to the Air Temple."

Tenzin had asked Iroh to take Korra out while he "dealt" with Bumi. Tenzin had looked rather serious—and agitated as Bumi's voice boomed in the background—when he made the request, so Iroh accepted without question.

Korra pouted. Iroh gave her his best I-know-you-think-I'm-dull-but-at-least-by-the-end-of-the-night-I'll-be-sober look. Perhaps it turned out a bit more condescending than he had expected, because Korra called for four more glasses of "the strong and expensive stuff," and informed him that he was paying—because he was an adult and a gentleman and all that.

Iroh didn't look amused.

Korra was content with this.

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Korra had barely finished her first glass and Iroh could already tell she wasn't going to make it.

"I should get you back," he said, more to himself than her. Because she was obviously in the stages of drunk-yet-in-denial.

Korra shook her head, "Nnnnnoooooooo," she wailed, hugging her drink, "I'm not done yet!" Then she pointed to the three drinks waiting for her, "And there's still more! I must finish!" she cried, doing a dramatic fist pump. "The Avatar does not quit!"

Iroh messaged his temples. Because, why him?

"Look, Korra—"

"I'm not a kid Iroh!" Korra stated, jabbing her pointer finger into his chest. "Treat me as an equal!" she demanded in her flailing state of drunkenness. "I can freak'in handle it!" People were beginning to stare.

Iroh decided that they should probably leave before the Avatar embarrasses herself and him.

"Come on—mmphh!"

Korra was kissing him, her one arm wrapped around his neck and her lips crashing into his.

Iroh tried to pull away but he should know better than anyone, that the Avatar does not do anything halfheartedly. He could pull away if he wanted to, but he didn't want to hurt her—or embarrass her, drunk Korra or not, in front of the people of Republic City.

So Iroh did what he thought a gentleman would do given the circumstances of the situation and the particularly troublesome person he was dealing with.

Iroh kissed her back.

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Korra had broken away first and said something along the lines of, "I think I'm going to be sick," after kissing him no less, and ran out of the bar. Iroh tried to follow her but Korra shot him a dangerous stay-where-you-are look.

After five minutes, despite her glare that hardly fazed him, Iroh went to look for her—after paying the ridiculous bill, of course.

Korra was sitting, her back propped against the side-wall of the bar, looking completely miserable with her knees pulled up to her chest.

Iroh let out a light chuckled that quickly earned him a hateful glare, which just amused him even more. Korra was a lot less fierce, a lot easier to tease, when she was completely mortified.

"So maybe we should have that drinking competition after all," Iroh proposed in his kind, gentlemanly, and slighting provoking, way.

Korra would have said something foul but her head was spinning and so she opted for what was most prominently on her mind. "I can't throw up. I feel like I'm dying, Iroh."

"Spare me the details Korra," Iroh replied with yet another chuckled that tickled her fingertips—not that she would stand a chance in a fight against Iroh in her current condition.

"Just take me home," Korra mumbled—exhausted and defeated.

Iroh strolled over and with his back facing her, kneeled down on one knee.

"Get on."

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Despite his determination in getting Korra back to the temple, Iroh didn't have the heart to wake his sleeping crew. Nor was Naga anywhere in sight.

This was a problem.

Sighing, Iroh decided that Korra would have to sleep on the ship tonight.

And given that he was a gentleman, Iroh wanted to protect the fools that might make the terrible mistake of disturbing Korra's sleep—because she was knocked out cold by the time they reached the ship—whether it be in the night or in the early morning.

Korra would sleep in his chambers.

And he would, grudgingly, sleep on the floor, or at his desk, or somewhere close by, so that when she wakes up, Korra would see him. Because there's a high chance that Korra would not remember the events of tonight and wake up thinking she was kidnapped or something and proceed to blow everything up if she did not see a familiar face.

Setting Korra down on his bed, Iroh didn't believe Korra could ever look so… not-fierce. Iroh pulled the covers up to her neck and tucked a loose stand of her hair back behind her ear.

Gazing down at her, Iroh did an ungentlemanly thing. But given that it had been a night in which many gentlemanly things had been done, he hoped he would be forgiven.

Iroh gave her a light kiss on her forehead.

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(Because if he had kissed her on the lips, she would have surely woken up.)

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fin.

endnotes: I know he's not that much older than Korra, but Iroh seems like such an adult. I think their relationship would be something like this.

Or maybe I just like fluff. Whatever.