This ended up being written in two parts. The working titles were "Bruce and Will, Besties" and "Where did this even come from!?"... so~
Final title from "Stars" by Fun.
Written for a prompt at the Hannibal Kink Meme. The entire prompt was "Will Graham/Bruce Banner", and I ran with that. So.
Originally posted on AO3 under FictionalFaerie~
ONE
Will's packing up his stuff for the evening, finished with his last class of the evening and wondering how it is that he managed to land a class in that last batch of the day- probably payment of some kind for how he misses so many classes nowadays, Jack Crawford's influence be damned- when Kate, another Forensics professor, sticks her head in his door.
"I got Will duty," she says with a smile, "I'm supposed to remind you that we have a reception dinner type thing tonight for the lecturers that all got here today."
He smiles back at her, kind of, not really looking up from his bag. She's nice enough, and he enjoys her company when he finds himself in it, but that's not enough by far to convince him to go to one of these horrible receptions, "Ah, thanks for reminding me. I got the memo, but-"
"Yeah, see, higher ups are on our asses. No buts on this one, Will. We're all required. Apparently some of these lecturers are Big Deals."
He rolls his eyes at the emphasis, but decides to follow her anyway as he shoulders his bag. He can either argue with her and later on the higher ups, or he can go eat some free food and hide awkwardly in a corner hoping no one will try to make small talk with him. Honestly, as tired as he is, the second sounds like less work. Maybe everyone will be so torn up over the lecturers that he can get away with it, even.
Kate must have been right about the whole Big Deal thing, because the food is kind of delicious. Usually it's lackluster, even at the required things. If they've pulled out this kind of fare, the lecturers must be kind of important.
He's got his plate at a table in the corner of the reception hall, trying to make himself smaller than the plant decorating it so that no one will see him and come to rescue him from being lonely. He's just started looking over some notes on the Ripper, who Jack is convinced is about to hit again, when a guy drops into the chair next to him, sighing a bit.
The guy starts when he notices Will, and rambles out an apology, "Sorry, sorry. I can move, this one just looked free and… hidden."
Will notes the way he twitches a bit when people pass too closely by and how he keeps his eyes averted, so Will takes pity on him, "As empty as anything else you'll find. And definitely the most hidden. Chose it for a reason. You're welcome to stay, if you want."
The guy smiles at him and seems to relax a few notches, "Thanks. Tony shooed me away, I think he could tell I was starting to fray."
"You're not one of the lecturers?" Will asks, shoving a roll in his mouth as he finishes the question.
"Oh, no, I am. I'm just here with a few friends and all, they're lecturers for this round, too. I'm, uh, Bruce."
Will nods his hello, glad the guy didn't shove a hand out to shake or something, "Will Graham. I teach a couple of classes on forensic profiling."
He goes back to scanning the notes as the guy nods, taking off his glasses and cleaning them, relaxing even more as some folks pass by without flocking to talk to him. They all seem pretty intent on getting to one guy who seems to love all the attention. Will glances by him quickly, but looks at him for a better look when he realizes, "…is that Tony Stark?"
The guy laughs a little, "Yeah. He's doing a series of lectures on the sort of weapons you can deal with in bigger situations, things that have been illegally obtained from various sources. He may not make weapons anymore, but he knows more about them than anyone else in the business right now, I'm pretty sure…"
"We seriously got an Avenger to do a lecture?" Will asks, laughing as well, "She wasn't kidding when she said the higher ups were excited about the Big Deal lecturers."
"All of the Avengers, actually," Bruce replies, "Uh, you've got Widow doing a few lectures to put the fear of God into men who might underestimate women… Captain America's doing a few lectures on creative leadership under duress, Hawkeye got roped into some arms training, and Thor's doing some stuff with adapting to cultures in order to have better relationships with foreign countries? I'm kind of bummed I'll be missing those, actually, but I think Hawkeye's going to record them, so…"
Will takes it in, impressed that the Academy managed to pull that sort of thing off, "So, Stark… Widow, Captain America… Thor, Hawkeye… that leaves the Hulk. You said all, so is he giving any lectures?"
Bruce laughs again, "Yeah. I'm actually giving a few lectures on gamma weapons, which the supervillain community is picking up on lately, and until they make the big steps to show off that they're a supervillain, they're the sort of folks the FBI has to deal with, so even though it seems a little farfetched, it's surprisingly pertinent."
Will feels his ears turning red as he puts it together, "Banner. Bruce Banner."
The guy, the Hulk, nods with a bit of a smile. "I figured you knew who I was. Which sounds cocky, but really, it's like more people know who I am than don't anymore, so I guess I took that for granted… by the time I figured out that you didn't know, it was nice talking to someone who didn't know, so I just kind of…"
"Yeah, no, I get it. Probably deal with a lot of people treating you like a big gamma weapon yourself, even like this."
"You have no idea," Bruce replies. "I'm going to go grab a plate of that, it's been a bit since I ate… do you want anything while I'm up there?"
Will looks at his plate, mostly picked clean, and then grins, "Yeah, sure. Whatever looks good."
The smile Bruce gives him makes his heart skip a beat in a way it hasn't in a while, and Will decides maybe this reception isn't the worst idea in the world.
TWO
"The problem with this scene, Jack," Will starts replying, letting the frustration drip into his voice, "Is that we're not dealing with a regular killer, or even a serial killer. This guy's going for ritualistic killing, and judging by the level of skill and the pieces chosen, I'm willing to bet its ritualistic killing on a competent- scarily proficient and probably actually capable of conjuring something- level rather than on a batshit crazy level."
"So, what, the competent thing is out of your range?" Jack asks, just as angrily.
Before Will can snap out a remark about not being able to deal with things that don't sing out to the batshit crazy level of him, Beverly slides bodily between them, facing Jack, "Hey, so, Will is creepily right with this one. This is way out of our league. SHIELD seems to have taken over from us, because this whole army of Men in Black just rolled up? Also, uh, the Avengers."
Will watches with satisfaction as Jack's eyebrows shoot almost off his face, "Fucking SHIELD. This was my scene, though."
"Now you know how the locals feel," Bev laughs to him before sliding an arm through Will's and leading him away before Jack can get even more irate and take it out on the nearest warm body.
"Thanks for the out," Will says, bumping his shoulder against hers.
"No problem. He's been kind of a stressed out asshole lately. I think he was hoping this would be the Ripper, so any evidence to the contrary was-"
She's interrupted by someone calling out, "Will?"
He turns and sees Bruce waving at him, wandering over. It's Bev's turn for rising eyebrows. She clearly isn't as obtuse about who Bruce is as he was.
"Hey, Bruce," Will says. They'd had lunch together a handful of times while the Avengers had been lecturing (which, Will had learned, was apparently punishment from their boss for breaking one too many rules and charging into a few incidents without stopping to consult him) (Will had also learned that they had indeed learned a lesson and would be much pickier with their rebellions from then on out), but since the lectures had ended and they'd gone back to New York, the two hadn't spoken.
"How's it going, Will?" Bruce asks, nodding at Beverly, who is still gaping like a fish. Will shakes his head at her, reaching over a finger and tapping her chin, prompting her to close her mouth at the very least. It earns him a thump on the head and an "asshole", but it's worth it for the way it makes Bruce laugh.
"Pretty well, I guess," Will responds. "Bit better now that I'll be able to hold the 'I was right and you were wrong' thing over my boss's head about this one. Told him it was out of our pay grade."
Bruce scrunches his face a bit, "Tell me about it. It's almost out of ours. I think Thor's the only reason we're not being shooed away from it. None of us have a clue, but he's pretty sure they're trying to end the world based on the pieces taken and letters carved in."
"That's… disconcerting."
"You're telling me. He's pretty sure he can figure out who it is, though, and we're working with a magician who seems to have some good leads, so…"
"Please tell me that's the magician," Bev says, finally breaking her silence, clearly trying not to giggle as she nods toward a guy in swirling robes, stroking his beard as he speaks to Thor.
Bruce groans a little, "Yeah. Stephen Strange. He's great, he's just…"
"Aptly named?" Will finishes.
"Exactly."
Before more can be said, Jack's bellowing for them all to get their asses over there so he can talk to them. Captain America's calling his people in a manner much more polite, but inspiring the same sort of hustle out of people.
"See you later," Bruce calls out, waving as he goes.
Will nods a bit, "Sure."
As they head toward Jack, Bev punches his arm hard enough that he's going to have a bruise there in a few hours, he's sure, "You fucking asshole. Why didn't you tell me you knew Bruce Banner?!"
"…it never came up?"
THREE
The scene is still rattling around inside of him when they get back to the hotel. The forensics guys head back to their room, discussing some journal Zeller's brought with him that Bev is eager to completely disprove. Jack's gone off on his phone, talking quietly to Bella and pretending he's not as worried about whatever it is they're discussing as he is. And Will... Will is left alone with the new ghosts he just acquired.
He really needs to sleep tonight, considering the fact that he hasn't slept in a few nights, jittery and nervous for reasons he can't even figure out.
That leaves a few options, the most appealing of which is easily the bar down the street. It's a terrible little dive of a thing, but that's probably for the best. The way things have been going, there's no way to guarantee he won't have some sort of zoned out freak out episode and some fancy bar wouldn't really be a great place for that...
So he changes shirts, checks that his wallet is in his pocket, and heads that way.
He's three drinks in, listing slightly to the side, when someone slumps down next to him and orders two drinks- one for themselves and one for Will. He turns to squint one eye at the newcomer, and breaks out into a grin as he identifies them.
"Bruce!" The delight in his voice takes him by surprise. Drinking was clearly the smart choice. Maybe the good mood will carry over into his dreams tonight.
Bruce gives him a smile, ducking his head as he does. Bruce never tries to make eye contact with him... that's one of the things he noticed right away and appreciated about Bruce.
"Hey, Will," Bruce finally responds, after the bartender has brought them their drinks. "What brings you to New York?"
Will frowns, looking down his nose and into the glass, "Work, of course. Caught a pretty rough scene, so we're here for the night. Maybe tomorrow? Definitely tonight, though."
"Well, it feels really crass to say that's great, because that's definitely not what I mean, but it's good to run into you..."
"Yeah, what are you doing here, anyway? I'd think drinking would be kind of detrimental to your... state? What's the right word for... is there a word?" Will asks, taking another drink.
"Not at all. I've got a pretty tight rein on it, but some nights you really just have to get away from everyone, right? I mean, I live with a batch of personalities that are kind of... large. It's have a drink or two in a bar where Tony's not likely to roll through, or it's run away to Costa Rica or somewhere. And I'm pretty sure SHIELD wouldn't actually let me get that far, so... drinks!"
Will nods at him, "Solid reasoning."
"I do try."
Will glances down, grinning when he realizes just how close Bruce is sitting and the way Bruce has angled himself toward Will. It's pretty nice...
A drink later, they find themselves making out like teenagers in Will's hotel room, legs tangled together and hands shoved up under shirts. They don't get much further, though, as Bruce's phone goes off and Will can feel himself drifting as Bruce fumbles to answer it.
Bruce runs a hand over his face as he talks to whoever is on the other end of the line, and looks apologetically at Will the whole time. Will just waves him on, nodding his understanding, and then slides into the best sleep he's had in well over a year.
FOUR
Will's proud of himself for not falling asleep during the show. It's just... not really his thing. He can appreciate the music and the time and dedication and talent, but he hasn't been sleeping well and the whole thing mostly just serves as a lullaby. Hannibal doesn't seem offended, luckily, and afterwards doesn't comment on it if he noticed.
Instead, he suggests dinner, which Will agrees to. He follows along to a restaurant that seems to know Hannibal, despite the distance from his home, and they end up seated immediately. He nods when Hannibal suggests ordering for him, still trying to clear his head and wake up, and thanks the waiter who brings them their drinks.
Hannibal, thankfully, picks up most of the conversation as they await the appetizer he's chosen. "Thank you again, Will, for attending this with me. I did tell Miss Vanderson that I had no need of two tickets, but she would hear nothing of it. She was quite appreciative of some help I gave her a while back... it would have been a shame for that second ticket to go to waste..."
"No, I'm really glad you invited me. It was really gorgeous. A little... beyond me at points, but gorgeous."
Hannibal smiles at him, and Will has to avert his eyes. Hannibal smiles so rarely, and Will's noticed it's mostly at him when he does, and he's not quite sure what to make of that.
Hannibal is about to say something else when someone falters by their table, and Will finds himself grinning up at Bruce.
"Will Graham," Bruce says, grinning back.
"And Hannibal Lecter," Hannibal responds, raising an eyebrow and giving that hint of a smile Will's noticed he gives. It's enough to make most people think he's smiling, but Will knows it's merely to look polite because of that.
"Sorry about that," Bruce replies, dipping his head and looking uncomfortable, "Bruce Banner."
"Lovely to meet you, Mr. Banner. How do you know Will, if you don't mind me asking?"
Will finds that he's rather frozen on the spot, completely confused as to what to do here, as to how to diffuse the tension that's racing through the air.
"I was a guest lecturer at the Academy," Bruce replies smoothly, seeming (rightfully, Will supposes, all things considered) nonplussed by Hannibal's slight hint of hostility. Whether it's because he hasn't noticed (Will's pretty sure he only noticed because he's so attuned to Hannibal nowadays) or because of his not inconsiderable talents at taking care of himself, Will isn't sure.
"And now we are all here at the same restaurant. What a happy coincidence," Hannibal says.
"Yeah," Bruce responds, and before he can turn to talk to Will more, someone's standing up on the other side of the restaurant, waving at them.
"Bruce! Buddy! Did you get lost? I mean, I know it's a big place, but..."
"Jesus, Tony," Bruce grumbles under his breath. "Listen, it was great to see you, Will."
"You, too, Bruce," Will says.
"Yes, Bruce, lovely to meet you. Do enjoy your dinner," Hannibal answers, smirk returning.
He runs into Bruce again in the restroom later, when he's excused himself while waiting for dessert.
Bruce is about to leave when he comes in, but hovers by the sink, waiting him out. "Listen, sorry for interrupting your date. I didn't mean to piss your boyfriend off like that, it was just genuinely great to run into you..."
"Oh, no. Not boyfriend. Not a date. Just, uh, friends. He had an extra ticket to a show?"
"So, he took you to a show and then to a fancy dinner?"
"Yeah. He's a particular sort of person... definitely not a boyfriend, though... even if, when you put it like that, it does sound like I might accidentally be on a date..."
Bruce nods, "Been there. Hey, here's my business card. I realized that we've run into each other enough and I actually like talking to you- which is not something I say about most people- so I thought, hey, if you ever wanted to get in touch with me..."
Will accepts the card and fumbles with his wallet long enough to pull out one of his own, made up for him as a Christmas present by Kate a few years ago, but not out of date, so...
"Enjoy the rest of your date, Will," Bruce says, winking, leaving the bathroom before Will can respond.
When he gets back to the table, Hannibal is waiting patiently with their desserts. Will only feels slightly guilty as he settles into his seat.
FIVE
Will gets home kind of late, slamming his car door just to relieve some of his frustration. They're getting nowhere on a case they picked up a week ago, and Jack keeps bugging him, wanting to know if he's sure of what he gave them to work with, and could he have missed something, and is he sure the Ripper doesn't tie into this one? On top of that, Hannibal was irritable at their session this evening, leaving Will's skin crawling around angrily at the unwelcome change in his friend's usual demeanor.
He pauses halfway to his porch, though, cocking his head and taking his glasses off to address the man sitting on his porch reading. "This one of those 'sometimes it's drink or run away' times?"
"Something like that," Bruce responds. "Ran away. Could use some booze, too, though..."
Will nods, "We can arrange that. Grab your bag, come on. Hope you don't mind dogs."
For the first time since that night in New York, Will begins to fall asleep without any issues. This time, though, he's curled around a warm body, face pressed into warm skin. He can't help running his hands over Bruce's back.
"Sometimes," he murmurs into Bruce's skin, "I have nightmares... night sweats... that sort of stuff. It can be... off putting."
"I think I can handle it. Like I said... tight rein on this thing," Bruce says. After a beat, he adds, "Sometimes I talk in my sleep? Mostly equations, stuff I've been working on, trying to figure out... I've been told I can get kind of... heated about it?"
Will laughs into his skin, sleepy and content and just... happy. That's what it is, he realizes with a start- happy.
"Think I can handle that," Will answers, and Bruce grins against him.
Sleep comes quickly, and if either of them do anything other than sleep, the other doesn't seem to notice.