As expected, the first few days in this new bunker were suspenseful and tense. Most conversations were kept quiet and private, as though everyone was concerned about keeping an unknown entity unaware of their presence. Enjolras visited Grantaire and would sit outside his door, talking to him through it, with him sitting only a few inches away on the other side. The longer he went without presenting symptoms, the more cheerful both students became.

The same could have been said for Claquesous if he hadn't reacted so badly to the boredom. Montparnasse kept him company as much as he could, but it wasn't much of a stretch to assume that the cabin fever would have been a hundred times worse when confined to a single room. Knocking on the door haphazardly as he took his place outside, Montparnasse listened for the sound of movement, his reply coming a few seconds later.

"What?"

"It's me."

"Doesn't change my question. What do you want?"

"I figured you'd want someone to talk to, but I can fuck off if you'd prefer –"

"Talk to me when I'm out of here. Which will be when, exactly?"

"Another day or so, if you're completely symptom-free. How're you feeling?"

"It'd better be – and I'm fine. As I keep telling you."

"Don't get pissy with me. If I had my way you would have been out yesterday and Babet would still be here."

"Ah, yeah…how is the life-saving poet? Enjoying his new position as ginger Jesus?"

With a snigger, Montparnasse rested his head against the door.

"He's alright…a bit soft, but he's snarky when he wants to be. Fun to wind up."

Rolling his eyes, Claquesous pushed his hood back to scratch absently at his scalp, letting his eyes close as he tried to shrug off the fatigue pulling at his mind. They didn't talk for much longer; evidently the builder's fuse had gradually been getting shorter and shorter, and Montparnasse hadn't been one stupid enough to get on his bad side more than a few times. Excusing himself, the student pushed himself off of the floor, and tugged at the hem of his shirt as he headed off. On his way back towards the dorm, he ran into none other than the poet himself, who met his eye with an instant look of airy, yet cautious suspicion. The corridor was more than wide enough to let them pass one another without difficulty, and yet they both came to a slow halt a few feet away from one another.

"It's a little late for our young saviour to be going walk-about, don't you think, Prouvaire?"

"I could say the same for you." He replied dryly, moving to walk past him. "I wonder if your parole officer knows you're out."

Quickly traipsing the same way, Montparnasse gave him a smirk, and pushed his hands into his pockets as they sidestepped in unison to the right once more, clearly getting the reaction he wanted when Jehan gave him an annoyed glare.

"Did you want something? Or are you so bored that irritating me is your only solution?"

"A little of both. More so the latter."

"Fantastic. Well can we do this another time? I need to talk to Grantaire, preferably before he falls asleep."

"Oh, really? What're you going to talk about?" Blocking his path once more, "Maybe thank him for volunteering for you? Try and justify your place here by having someone else tell you how happy they are that you got your turn?"

"I don't need to justify anything to anyone, you obnoxious prat. Now let me past."

The fact that his voice was so soft and calm only made the retort that much more surprising – so much so, Montparnasse almost did as he was asked. But, as usual, he opted to see how much he could get away with – how much farther he could push before he got to see Jehan react like that again. It was funny, and also rather endearing, in a strange sort of way. Shortening the distance between them just a bit more, the jailbird widened his smile, but only a little as he spoke once more.

"Oh, you don't know how much I like hearing you call me names. Do it again."

"I would say something like 'I'll do much worse than call you names if you keep this up', but I doubt you'd do much more than laugh at me."

"No, no – see now that I'm excited to see happen. What would you do, hypothetically? Knock me out? Give me a bloody nose, perhaps?"

"I don't need to stoop to your level to make my point clear."

"Oh, go on – stoop. I can promise you it's far more fun running in my circles."

"As much fun as a black eye, or a stint in jail, I imagine."

"It's not that bad – besides, I'd keep an eye out for you. And I'm sure you'd look adorable in your mug shot"

"I'm not sure looking 'adorable' is something you should focus on in prison."

"It is if you have a face like yours"

The comment – whether he was actually being flirtatious or just a dick – made Jehan shift his weight a little awkwardly, glancing away for the moment until he managed a reply.

"You have such a way with words..."

Rolling his eyes, now less in irritation and more in weary surrender, Jehan eventually let himself smile – just enough to give Montparnasse a fleeting feeling of victory. After a moment, he stepped to the side, finally letting Jehan pass him. Taking his chance with a short, relieved exhale, he looked back only once as he went on his way. Montparnasse continued on towards the dorm, grinning wickedly to himself. He had no real interest in the poet, but the banter was entertaining enough. Or at least, that's what he'd say if ever he was asked.

Flirting was something he definitely enjoyed, but what made it better was when the other party reciprocated, whether it was just playful or perhaps leading to something more. He'd tried many times with Éponine, and sometimes, if she'd been in a good mood, she'd played along for a while. But it was obvious that he'd be fighting a losing battle – the fact that said battle was to Marius of all people didn't lessen the blow any, but he'd managed to suck it up and deal with it. Life was too short to pine after people, but it was just long enough to flirt and fuck and have fun as was permitted.

Back in the medical bay, Grantaire was close to sleeping when he heard a nearby door open and close, with footsteps making their way towards his door. Pushing himself out of bed, he answered the gentle knock with one of his own.

"Enjolras..?"

"Sorry, just me this time."

"Oh, hey Jehan – I wasn't expecting you. Everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. Nothing's wrong. I actually just wanted to thank you"

Stifling a yawn, Grantaire leaned against the wall as he sank into a crouch, turning his head slightly towards the door as he spoke.

"For what..?"

"For offering to give me your place." Despite this being his plan the entire time, the fact that Montparnasse had not only been right about it, but that he'd mocked him for it, made Jehan feel just a little bit stupid for being here now. "That was brave of you."

"Nah…it was the right thing to do. Besides, you were the only one who stuck to their cards when they could have changed. I think that was pretty brave."

"Maybe…I just thought it made sense. I wasn't trying to prove anything."

"I know you weren't. Regardless, it does prove the fact that you're more intrepid than you give yourself credit for. And hey, between you and me? I would have liked to have a poet in here in the last round anyway."

"I don't think I would have been much help, but I appreciate that."

"Sure you would have – how about I become a bunker builder when we graduate, then I'll make a bunker big enough for thirty. Then we can all get in, no problem, plus any significant others."

Smiling quietly to himself, Jehan pulled his knees up to his chest, the toes of his shoes only just touching the other end of the doorframe.

"That sounds like a much better deal than this…so…this is where Enjolras keeps disappearing to?" He asked, giving the door a knowing look as if Grantaire could see him through it. On the other side, Grantaire played with the toggles on his hoodie while he thought about how to answer.

"I guess it must be…Not to worry though, soon enough I'll be out of here and no one will have to disappear anywhere."

"Can I ask…what's going on with you two? Obviously you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but if you do I promise I'll keep it secret. It's just, you're both giving off really mixed signals – plus, we're all very curious." After a pause, "…Did anything happen last round? In the other room?"

"If I'm being honest? I don't know what's going on."

"Have you talked about it?"

"Sort of…but, I don't think it'll go anywhere. Even if he's not just playing up to what his card says, he's…"

"He's…what?"

"…Him. And I'm me."

"Grantaire – unless you're clear with him about what you want, your answer will always be 'no'. And he's obviously quite taken with you, in his own way."

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts. Talk to him, get all the cards on the table. If you don't, you'll regret it. Trust me on that."

As promised, two days later the two students woke up and faced the day that they might be allowed back into the group. As decided by the others, both Feuilly and Bossuet went to check on them, one taking a room each and knocking before letting themselves in. Vitals were checked and double checked, temperatures taken and general examinations undertaken. Both came up clean, and although there was a lingering air of caution surrounding them both as they re-joined the others in the living room, soon enough everyone was far more relaxed. After they'd eaten, they settled in their places on the couches as Musichetta brought out her deck of cards, challenging some of the boys to a game, while the others placed harmless bets on who might win, or they just watched, happy for the distraction. Claquesous and Montparnasse were both more than ready for something vaguely entertaining to do, and despite the foul mood he'd been in since entering the bunker and being quarantined, that quickly changed as he took another look at his hand.

Returning to the room with a mug of tea, Jehan eyed the empty space on the sofa near the poker game, weighing up whether or not he should take it.

"You want in?" Musichetta offered, giving him her usual, inviting smile. "You're welcome to join in."

"Come on, Prouvaire." Montparnasse added, countering their poker champion's expression with his own, challenging smirk. "You can learn a lot about someone by what kind of game they play; I wanna see what you've got to tell. Or what you've got to lose."

Eventually taking the invitation, Jehan settled next to Musichetta and shot Montparnasse a glance as his cards were dealt, his tone delicate but no-nonsense, his words once again giving the raven haired criminal a reason to smile somewhat in surprise.

"If you think I'm going to be the one losing, you're sorely mistaken."

Before long, the game was underway, with Grantaire half watching a few feet away, with the rest of his attention on the notebook in front of him. He'd missed drawing, having something to do with his hands – though when Enjolras leaned on the back of the sofa and muttered a low 'let's talk', the lined pages were abandoned just as fast.

Even when they were out of the room, neither said anything until they were a fair distance from their peers. Grantaire was just enjoying being able to walk around the long, winding corridors again, and Enjolras was glad he'd finally be able to have this conversation. But, of course, the ice had to be broken first.

"I'm glad you're out, finally."

"Me too…" Gently nudging Enjolras with his shoulder as they walked, Grantaire just gave him a playful grin as they went, his expression only brightening when the favour was returned a moment later.

"So…you wanted to talk?"

"Yes, I did." Leading them both into the nearest doorway, Enjolras closed the door softly behind them both. He'd inadvertently taken them both back into the relaxation room, but it was back in the garden that he began to broach the topic once more.

"Before this round started, you were going to tell me something. I want to know what it was."

Evidently, this hadn't been something Grantaire had wanted to talk about, and he wondered if Jehan had maybe spoken to Enjolras separately. Not that it mattered – there wasn't getting out of it again. Perhaps now was the time. Shrugging somewhat helplessly, Grantaire smiled uncertainly as he scratched at the skin around his thumb.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Enjolras. I know what your answer will be, there's no point in me telling you-"

"Do me a favour and stop assuming you know what I'm going to do, especially when I can't judge it for myself yet." Enjolras replied, taking a seat at the end of Grantaire's bench. "Just talk to me. Whatever it is, it concerns me – I have a right to know."

He couldn't look at the blond now, not properly. Part of him wanted to tell him, but with every second that passed in awkward quiet, Grantaire could feel his nerves quickly fading again.

"And I have a right to not make a complete ass of myself…Enjolras, I don't-"

"It can't be that hard to say, Grantaire."

"It is – well, it's not, for some people. Look, can you not just assume we're better off just like this? Our own ignorant bliss paradox?"

Sighing, Enjolras fixed him with a stern, yet curious look, making it almost impossible for Grantaire to take his eyes off of him.

"Just…tell me."

Feeling himself being backed into a corner, there was a long pause before he decided on what to do. His mouth opened before he could psyche himself out of anything else, his words fell out before he could catch them – 'Can I show you instead?' - And once he'd been granted permission, he seemed to move on blind chance alone as he got up from his place, both hands found their resting place on either side of his companion's face, and his lips finding their own seconds later against Enjolras'.