Gabe’s heart was going to rip out of his chest, invincible or not.

August had no business, no right, to look at him like that.

And okay, it didn’t help that he was exceptionally (like, exceptionally) hot. 

But Gabriel understood the boundaries of a professional partnership like theirs, and petty things like attraction were easy to discard in the name of an appropriate and stable working relationship. Gabe was attracted to plenty of other professional and semi-professional Guardians, inappropriateness of that attraction be damned, and he always kept it HR-friendly. 

The media hated him, but the press had rarely caught a whiff of a romantic scandal. There was a very simple reason why: because when it came to romance, Gabe knew when to leave well enough alone.

Hopefully he still did.

So where did Augustus Wright get the nerve to show up in the tightest fitting black nylon outfit Gabriel had ever seen, glasses nowhere in sight, dark hair slicked out of his eyes and expression on his face like it was his only mission in life to clean up after Gabe’s messes?

Atrocious behavior. Utterly indefensible. 

“Right,” Gabriel said finally, throat full of metaphorical glass as August’s strong fingers tightened around his shoulder. “Bus 4.”

Maybe he could get Larissa to try to light him on fire again. 

Maybe this time, it would take.

“You’re kidding.”

Johann glared at them from his seat next to the plane window. Gabe cleared his throat, inclining his head. “Obviously we’re not kidding, Johann. These are our seats. So move your bag.”

Johann grumbled something unintelligible but put his backpack underneath the seat in front of him, staring daggers at nothing in particular. 

August slipped past Gabe before he could protest, taking the middle seat and storing his own bag.  “You should take the aisle,” August said belatedly. “You had the longer drive to Ifran, use the time to stretch.”

Gabe swallowed and nodded.

The flight was, apparently, to the very northernmost reaches of Canada. Or at least, that was what the flight desk’s monitor had said when Ifran’s buses arrived and they were filtered through customs en masse. Gabe silently thanked his mom for forcing him to wear wool socks and bring an extra set of layers in his bag. He may have been impervious to frostbite, but he could still feel himself freeze slowly from the inside out if he were in subzero temperatures for long enough. 

Thanks mostly to, you know, his constant need to breathe.

Johann stayed quiet once they’d sat down, so Gabe and August took the opportunity to rest and prepare for a long few days.

Or, that was what they’d intended to do. 

But when did anything ever go according to plan?

Gabe was resting his eyes when he heard it, head nestled deep in his bunched-up hoodie. A deep, bone-shaking thunk that shattered the peace of the cabin.

“Did you hear that?” August said, more to himself than anyone. Even Johann sat up straighter, looking alarmed. 

“Do you think they’re starting the scenario early?” Gabe asked, clinging to optimism. He peered up front, where the facilitators had been sitting. They’d begun to bustle around, speaking frantically into their handheld radios and gesturing for the students to sit down. “I guess not.”

The oxygen masks dropped unceremoniously from the top of the cabin, the voices around them rising as the plane shuddered and began a rapid descent.

Gabe and August shared looks, Gabe rising to his feet.

August looked between Gabe and Johann, eyes just ever so slightly widened. 

"Well, it looks like the plane's crashing." August wrinkled his nose. "Any ideas?"