Chapter Text
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and Hill stepped out into the sleek, glass-paneled lobby of Jittangkul Biosciences International, loosening his tie as he exhaled the last of the boardroom tension from his meeting. It had been two hours of polished negotiations and strategic talk with the Jittangkuls—productive, but draining. All he wanted now was a cup of coffee and a few quiet minutes to himself.
He wasn’t expecting to nearly collide with someone carrying a stack of folders.
“Whoa—sorry!”
Hill steadied the person instinctively, blinking when familiar eyes blinked back up at him. “Easter?”
“Phi Hill?” Easter’s voice was just as surprised, a small, startled laugh slipping out. “What are you doing here?”
Hill’s expression softened immediately, something fond flickering behind his eyes as he took in the sight of the younger man in a white lab coat, ID badge clipped neatly to the collar. “I could ask you the same thing. I didn’t know your internship here had started.”
Easter chuckled, shifting the folders in his arms. “Yeah, it did, just last week. I’m rotating between the research division here and the clinical practice at one of their branches. It’s… a lot, but it’s fun.”
Hill’s smile lingered, warm and maybe a little too tender. “Of course you are.”
Easter raised an eyebrow. “Of course I am what?”
“Of course you’re already splitting your time between two departments,” Hill said, amusement threading his tone. “You don’t do anything halfway, do you?”
Easter shrugged, grin tugging at his lips. “What can I say? I like keeping busy.”
Hill’s lips curved into a small, thoughtful smile as he watched Easter balance the folders against his chest, still radiating that mix of focus and ease that always drew his attention. “So,” he said after a beat, tilting his head, “since you’re already here and I’m done with my meeting… how about lunch?”
Easter blinked. “Lunch?”
“Mm.” Hill slid his hands into his pockets, voice casual but eyes holding a spark of intent. “Unless you’re too busy splitting your brilliance between research and practice.”
Easter laughed, shaking his head. “I actually have an hour before I need to be back. But it’s just lunch, right? I can’t exactly be late for lab briefings.”
“Perfect,” Hill said, already pulling out his phone as if the decision had been made. “We’ll keep it close. There’s a little bistro around the corner. Quiet, fast, and I’ll have you back with time to spare.”
Easter eyed him with mock suspicion. “You seem very prepared for this.”
Hill’s smile deepened. “What can I say? I don’t like wasting opportunities.”
“Opportunities for what?” Easter teased.
Hill shrugged, gaze steady on him. “Spending more time with you.”
That earned him a soft snort and a shake of the head, but the faint color on Easter’s cheeks betrayed his amusement. “Fine,” he relented. “But I’m holding you to that one-hour promise.”
“Deal,” Hill said, his voice low and certain as he gestured toward the exit. “Lead the way, Mr. Intern.”
Easter rolled his eyes, but the small, unguarded smile that followed stayed as they walked side by side out of the lobby, the air between them lighter than either had expected.
The little bistro Hill had mentioned was tucked just around the corner—all warm wood interiors, the smell of roasted coffee beans, and a quiet hum of conversation. It wasn’t flashy or extravagant, but somehow that made it feel more intimate.
Hill held the door open for Easter with a small, courtly gesture. “After you.”
“Such a gentleman,” Easter teased, stepping inside.
“I try,” Hill replied with a grin, following him in.
They were seated quickly by a window table, sunlight spilling across the tablecloth. Easter had barely picked up the menu before Hill waved the server over, speaking with the ease of someone who’d already decided.
“One iced americano, and one iced cocoa,” Hill said, “the salmon risotto, and the beef tenderloin—medium rare. Oh, and extra bread, please.”
Easter raised a brow, lowering his menu slowly. “Did I… order without realizing it?”
Hill leaned back in his seat, utterly unbothered. “You like risotto, and you always steal half of your friend's steak anyway. I’m just saving us time.”
A laugh slipped from Easter before he could stop it. “You say that like you own the place.”
“I don’t,” Hill countered, eyes glinting with mischief. “But I do plan on owning this lunch hour.”
Easter rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, fingers drumming lightly against the table. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And yet,” Hill said, tilting his head, “you’re still here.”
Their drinks arrived, and Easter took a sip of his iced cocoa, trying and failing to hide the amused smile curling at the corners of his lips. Hill watched him over the rim of his own cup, gaze softer now, like he wasn’t just observing, but memorizing.
It was the little things he noticed: the way Easter stirred his drink absentmindedly, the slight furrow of his brows when he was thinking, the way his smile always started in his eyes before reaching his mouth. He looked… comfortable here. At ease. Like this was where he was supposed to be.
“Stop staring,” Easter said suddenly, not even looking up from his glass.
“I’m allowed to stare,” Hill murmured. “Especially if it's mine.”
“Yours?” he echoed, raising a brow. “Last I checked, you were just friends with my best friends’ sugar daddies. Or boyfriends. Whatever label they’re using these days.”
Hill didn’t even flinch. Instead, he hummed thoughtfully, swirling his drink before meeting Easter’s gaze again—steady, amused, and maybe a little too fond. “Well… not yet,” he said easily. “But I was hoping to shoot my shot.”
Easter blinked, caught off guard for half a second before recovering with a smirk. “Shoot your shot? Over risotto and iced cocoa?”
“Over you,” Hill corrected, leaning forward, elbows resting on the table. His tone was light but there was an honesty under it that made Easter’s chest tighten unexpectedly. “And before you ask—no, I don’t think I’m moving too fast. I like it at this pace.”
A small, surprised laugh bubbled out of Easter. “You’re unbelievable. Aren’t you supposed to be the careful one? The planner?”
“Careful doesn’t mean slow,” Hill replied, lips tugging into a faint smile. “And planning doesn’t mean waiting.”
Easter shook his head, still smiling, still trying to ignore the way his heartbeat had quickened without permission. “You’re ridiculous, Phi Hill.”
“Maybe,” Hill murmured, his voice dropping just a little lower, “but I’m ridiculous about you.”
Easter groaned and hid behind his hands, but he was laughing too and helplessly amused. “You’re so dramatic.”
“Only when it matters,” Hill said, grin widening as he watched Easter’s ears turn pink.
Hill let the quiet stretch just long enough for Easter to take another sip of his drink. Then, as if it were the most natural question in the world, he asked, “So… how’s the internship going?”
Easter glanced up, a little surprised at the shift in topic. “It’s going well,” he said, setting his glass down. “Busy, but I’m learning a lot. More than I expected, actually. They let me sit in on some of the formulation reviews last week.”
Hill arched a brow, genuinely intrigued. “Formulation reviews? That sounds… advanced.”
Easter shrugged lightly, like it was nothing. “It’s good experience. I get to see how the pharmaceutical side connects to the clinical side. It’s not just textbooks anymore—I actually see the decisions being made, the way trials are planned, how it all feeds back into veterinary care.” His smile softened, a rare kind of pride flickering there. “Makes me feel like I’m not just running on theory.”
Hill leaned forward, chin propped against his hand as he studied him. Easter spoke with that quiet ease again, the kind of ease Hill had noticed earlier—the kind of ease people didn’t usually have in the shadow of a corporate giant like Jittangkul. And it made Hill wonder, not for the first time, if there was more to Easter’s place here than an ordinary internship.
Still, he only nodded, lips curling into a slow smile. “Of course you’re learning a lot. You’re the type they’d be lucky to keep.”
Easter rolled his eyes but didn’t hide the faint color rising in his cheeks. “You’re just saying that.”
“No,” Hill said, calm and certain. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
Their plates were cleared away, the last of the bread basket gone, and Easter checked the time on his phone with a small sigh. “Ten minutes left. I should head back before my supervisor starts looking for me.”
Hill nodded easily, reaching for the bill before Easter could even think about it. “I’ll walk you back.”
Easter looked up, one brow arching, a playful spark in his eyes. “Walk me back? What, the big CEO suddenly has nothing better to do?”
Hill’s lips curved. “Maybe I don’t.”
Easter leaned back, studying him, then grinned. “You just want to spend more time with me.”
The accusation hung between them like a dare, but Hill didn’t bother denying it. He leaned in slightly, his voice warm, steady. “You’re right. I do.”
Easter blinked at him, caught off guard by the honesty, before breaking into laughter—bright, amused, but touched in a way he didn’t quite mask. He shook his head as he gathered his folder. “Phi Hill, you’re impossible.”
Hill only stood, offering him a hand as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “And yet here you are, letting me.”
Easter rolled his eyes, but he didn’t refuse when Hill fell into step beside him, matching his pace as they left the bistro and headed back toward the glass tower of Jittangkul.