Listen to "Falling Slowly" by Glen Hansard.
I like this couple a lot more than for just cheap sex it seems. So be patient for the fricking lemon. Very soon, I promise.
His fingers traced a path across her cheek for his lips to follow. She didn't notice how hard she was breathing until his kiss silenced her. Slow, deep, sensual were the movements of their lips melded together.
"Asami," he reverently whispered as he kissed down her elegantly pale neck.
She loosely draped her arms over his shoulders as his burning hot breath teased her. Suddenly, the air around her was much too suffocating and hot. She wanted to rip off her clothes and scream at him to fuck her right then and there. Visions of the two writing in unadulterated, very rampant pleasure pressed against the back of her eyelids. He pulled on her earlobe, earning a breathy moan from her. She mentally chanted yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
No.
Dammit, she had to win. A part of catching and keeping a man is to not have sex with him on the first date! Has she forgotten Mako-the-traitor already? She ignored the rules and the stupid games and tried to really connect with the man and what happened in the end? Exactly, he cheated and left for another woman. If she wanted something real with Iroh (which she genuinely did), she had to play coy. Relationship games exist for a reason.
His very large hand cupped her breast and it was all she could do to keep from arching closer. Maybe just a prolonged tease this one time. Sex is parted thighs and a lot of delicious pounding but one little not-so-innocent touch wouldn't…
No.
She pushed his chest lightly and looked up at him. Ah, he was deathly serious at the moment, his half-lidded eyes dark with lust and mild irritation, his lips drawn into a thin line of displeasure, and his jaw clutched visibly tight. A god among mortals. Electricity pounded into her stomach. She wanted to bow down and worship. A part of her wanted to throw a tantrum at stopping this but she was a lady.
She uttered the death blow. "I'd rather not risk Zan walking in."
Protest almost formed on his lips. He composedly said, "As you wish, Ms. Asami."
Oh that hurt. What's worse is she planned to stay aloof for a few more days. She almost wondered how he'd react to that. But at least he still promised to teach her how to fight which guaranteed she'd see him soon before he left. She had to repeatedly remind herself that this was the only way to win. The words sounded hollow in her heart.
Soon they quietly made their excuses to exit the modest tea shop. The ride home wasn't as thrilling as it had been the first two times. As if conspired to by the weather it poured heavily. The icy wind lashed against them. Thunder boomed threateningly and she was glad when they finally got to the Air Temple. She took her time getting down without a care for her ruined hair and makeup. The lingered a few seconds near the mongoose dragon, not wanting to say goodbye.
Dripping from the cold rainwater, Asami chastely kissed his cheek. That seemed to console him quite a bit since he smiled back reassuringly. Everything will be alright.
She turned around with the grace of a ballerina and started to walk inside.
"Asami!" he shouted, fear singeing his tone.
Wide eyed, she spun back just in time to see him jump in front of her. Both his arms were extended out in different directions. Thunder roared this time loud enough to make her scream when he turned to face her. His coat was scorched, revealing second degree burns on his chest but he betrayed no pain.
He smiled, amusement lighting his features. "It's nothing. I redirected most of it."
It. Lightening. He jumped in front of a lightening bolt for her. He saved her life.
Struck speechless, she opened and closed her lips. A few tears mingled with the rain on her cheeks. Her hands were trembling as she grasped his.
"Korra!" she screamed, running inside with him in tow.
A few hours shy of daylight, the Avatar wouldn't be in the most agreeable mood at being rudely disturbed from her sleep. But as Asami burst through her bedroom door, Korra immediately saw the other girl's desperation. Asami dragged her out to the foyer where he was patiently waiting.
Iroh shrugged it off, "There's no need to make a scene, Ms. Asami."
Korra examined the worsening burns and shuddered, "Whoa."
"That's not nothing!" Asami cried out, her cheeks reddening. A weaker man would be on the floor thrashing in pain. Powerlessness seeped into her as she watched Korra heal him. Everything she's been working to accomplish, every little trick and manipulation, was rendered absurd. She was never winning. She wasn't even playing. Because there's a difference between the relationship game children play and the real relationship two people form with one another. Especially since General Iroh is not Mako. Her biggest mistake in confusing the two guys.
"I think it might scar. I might be able to heal that too but it'll take some time. Until then, you'll have some really wicked red scars," Korra told him.
He nodded, "Thank you for your assistance, Avatar."
Asami wanted to scream at how calm he's being. She asked out of frustration, "How can you just – aren't you in pain?"
"It barely stings."
Korra knew better than to get into the middle of this. Deciding it was for the best, she quickly slipped out of the room to get back to sleep. Not that they noticed.
"I can't believe you would do that. You got seriously hurt because of me."
In his usual, calm and proud tone, he said, "You might have died. This is nothing in comparison."
She dropped into the chair next to him. Defeated, she cupped her face in her hands. "I would be the one who almost gets struck by lightening."
"And I want to always be the one who saves you."
Asami could only look at him for a long time. The silence was thick yet not uncomfortable. It was more so one of contemplation.
When she spoke again, she broke one of the greatest rules of the game: telling him everything.
"When – I was young, a gang of firebenders broke into my house. My mother was killed by them. It was so long ago, I can't remember the day or even what she looked like. I didn't think it bothered me but now I know how much it did. I would use her pictures as a template for how I do my makeup, hair, and dress. I used to hate fire. Just seeing it on the kitchen stove was enough to make me burst into tears. But I eventually saw how wrong that was. My father didn't. He's in prison now because he couldn't separate good fire from bad.
Now that I'm older, I've once again been very burned by fire. I want to say that it didn't bother me either but now I know how much it did… I forgot that all firebenders are not the same. Now I know you won't burn me. I'm sorry I didn't trust you before, General Iroh. I like you much more than I should."
He silently watched in admiration as every emotion played on her delicate features: sadness, bitterness, regret, understanding, and finally compassion. It was very humbling for him. He was moved by her story more than he could comprehend.
"You never told anyone this?" he asked though he knew the answer.
Her eyes dropped to the floor. That was answer enough. "Not really."
Iroh took her hand and kissed it. "I'm sorry you've suffered, Asami."
This brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes. He was the one with burn marks yet he was consoling her. She had made herself vulnerable and he didn't break her. Her fingers lightly trailed along the intricate design of the red scars that splattered his chest. When she was sure she wasn't hurting him, she threw her arms around him. She sat in his lap, her face buried against his neck. Too weak to do anything else, she wept in his safe arms. He ran his hand through her long black hair and whispered how much he likes her too.
They stayed like that until dawn, only parting to go to their separate rooms for sleep.