"I never apologized, by the way," said Iroh. His voice was slightly slurred. Four glass tumblers of Queen's Lightning sat empty in front of him. "For calling you an idiot. That one time. You weren't there." Mako had no idea what the man was talking about. He'd never seen someone go from fine to drunk so quickly, especially a man of Iroh's size. He'd remembered too late that the general rarely drank.
"Er, no problem," he said.
"I owe you everything," Iroh continued. His dark hair, neatly combed back for the event, was starting to fall forward into his eyes. "If you hadn't been an idiot and left her, Asami might not have even looked at me." Mako highly doubted that. Iroh was 6'1", strikingly handsome, a real-life prince, and, beneath his heroic exterior, a truly giant dork. Mako couldn't imagine anyone better suited to sweeping someone like Asami—also a rich, gorgeous nerd—completely off her feet.
"I used to hate you, you know." Mako blinked. What? Iroh smiled, his golden eyes a little unfocused. "Nothing personal," he said slowly. "Jealous, really. For stringing her along, for pushing me out. Yeah, there was a time I wanted to pound your face in." Iroh shook his head. "I'm glad that's over. You're a good man, Mako. I'm happy we can be friends." Mako just stared at him. He'd always thought the jealousy had been the other way around. Not because he still had feelings for Asami, precisely. Just because Iroh had always looked so damned happy.
Thankfully at that moment Asami herself wandered over, Korra in her wake. "There you are," she said. She put one hand on Iroh's shoulder. "Between your family and the UF crew it seems like everyone in here is wearing the same red coat." Asami glanced down at the empty tumblers, then across the table at Mako. He gave her a little shrug. Asami's eyes narrowed. "Iroh," she said, "can I borrow you for a minute?"
Iroh looked up at her. "You're beautiful," he said. Asami smiled and pushed his hair out of his eyes, then kissed him on the forehead.
"Love you, too," she said. "Come on." Iroh grinned, then heaved himself to his feet and followed her. Korra plopped down in his place.
"You're welcome," she said.
"Thanks. That was getting... interesting."
Korra glanced behind her at the departing couple. "I can't tell if I'm happy for her or if I want to vomit," she said.
"Can't it be both?" Korra grinned. Mako glanced around. "No luck with the UF boys, then?" The group Korra had been talking to were now clustered by one of the bars, deep in conversation with two young Fire Nation women.
"I might have done better if my supposed wingman hadn't been over here getting the groom shitfaced," she said.
"Sorry. It had to be done." Mako looked around again. It seemed like they were the only ones still sitting at a table. "Want to dance?"
Korra shrugged, then got to her feet. He followed her out onto the dance floor. The song was fast, something he didn't recognize. He'd never considered himself a great dancer, but his years as a pro-bender had taught him enough about how to move his body that he passed for competent. Korra was usually a little better, but tonight her timing was off. Mako realized that, while they'd probably had about the same number of drinks, he outweighed her by nearly 50 pounds. He'd have to keep an eye on that.
Mako saw her wobble slightly and reflexively put one hand on her arm to steady her. Korra looked at him, her blue eyes curious. He kept his hand where it was.