Note: Good lord… been a very, very long time since I wrote anything for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Needed a change from my normal fandom writing, so… meh! Charlie/Wonka fluff

Enjoy!

Note 2: Slash themes, Pairing: Charlie(adult)/Wonka. Read if you choose!

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Candy Wine

It is a strange and frightening thing to watch the faces of loved ones change, growing heavy with the weight the world places on them. Nevertheless, there comes a moment when understanding dawns, and you realize that all you love will eventually die.

Charlie Bucket had just begun to understand the weight of age, and time. The weight of it was on his shoulders today as he sat in the Chocolate Room, legs tucked up beneath him, watching the chocolate bubbling up the tubes.

"Happy birthday to me," The young man whispered as he shifted himself on the candy mint grass, drawing one knee up to his chest, chin resting on top of it. He folded his arms around his knee, eyes closing as tears threatened.

"Charlie?" That voice.

Charlie lifted his head, turning to look over his shoulder. "Mr. Wonka," He greeted, voice breaking around the edges.

Mr. Wonka said nothing more as he lowered himself down beside the young man, reaching out to lay a hand gently on his shoulder. It was that motion that let Charlie know that something was wrong, in all the years he had lived at the factory, Mr. Wonka had never happily allowed physical contact with anyone.

"My Grandpa… is he…?" One word, but Charlie couldn't bring himself to say it.

Mr. Wonka gave a the slight nod of his head. "Yes, I'm afraid he is."

Charlie looked away quickly, hiding his face against his knee again.

Mr. Wonka sighed quietly and shifted closer, wrapping one arm around the young man's shoulders, drawing him in close. "I'm so sorry, Charlie." He breathed. "I'm so sorry…"

Charlie bit down on his lip for a moment, "You could've done something to save him." He whispered voice hot with anger. "You have things in the factory that could've saved him… why did you let him die!" Charlie shoved away from the older man, tears running down his cheeks.

Mr. Wonka sighed again and shook his head. "I'm not going to defend my actions, Charlie. You're upset… and you have every right to be. But understand this, I may have things here that can cheat death, but no man should live forever." He got to his feet, brushing the mint grass from his pants. "When you're thinking straight again, come find me. I'll be in the inventing room. We need to talk." He turned and headed across the grass, towards one of the elevator doors.

Charlie watched him go, hands curled tightly into fists.

It took most of the day before Charlie began to regret his harsh words. He paced his bedroom, absentmindedly fiddling with the various things he had collected over the years. At twenty-four, the factory had been Charlie's home for what seemed forever. He loved the place. He loved the workers, he loved learning how things were made –

And some small part of him loved his mentor, too.

It was subtle emotion, gentle. Nothing extreme, simply a thought in the back of his mind whenever he noticed the Chocolate Maker doing something childish, or adorable. Seemed strange that a grown man could be called adorable, but Willy Wonka somehow managed to pull it off.

Charlie's shoulders slumped in defeat as he finally gave up and headed towards the bedroom door, stepping out into the hallway. He knew the factory like the back of his hand. Knew which hallways to take, and which ones would lead to trouble.

Sometimes he thought he knew the place better than Mr. Wonka.

The Inventing room was difficult to get to, but Charlie used the time to get his head on straight. By the time he came through the doors and spied his mentor sitting half asleep at the desk, he felt calmer.

His footsteps were soft as he moved across the room, stopping beside the desk. Reaching out, Charlie ghosted his fingertips over the pale cheek, smiling when Mr. Wonka shifted, lilac eyes opening. "Good morning." Charlie greeted, "Falling asleep at the desk isn't good for you, you know." He added.

Mr. Wonka's lips twitched ever so slightly. "Tell me something I don't know," He agreed, straightening up and stretching his arms above his head. "You'd think after this long I'd know better."

Charlie leaned his hip against the desk, eyebrow quirking. "So, you wanted to talk to me?" he probed as the silence began to stretch between them.

Mr. Wonka leaned back in the chair, blinking up at him. "yeah," he nodded. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry…"

Charlie reached out and laid his finger against the other man's lips, watching the confused expression on his face. "Don't. You were right… no man is able to live forever, and my grandfather lived a long life. I'm just in a sour mood… kind of sucks when the only person in your family who didn't cut and run dies on your birthday."

Mr. Wonka reached up, hesitating for a second, and moved Charlie's hand away from his face. "Don't you have a date tonight?" He wondered suddenly. "With that girl… uh…" he winced.

"Melissa?" Charlie smiled.

"Yeah, that one."

"I cancelled it." Charlie shrugged. "Didn't much feel like social interactions tonight." He pushed away from the desk. "But I do feel like a bottle of wine and some good food… could use some company, too, if you're interested."

"I don't drink," Mr. Wonka reminded him, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet. "But I wouldn't say no to dinner with you."

Charlie's grin widened. "Sounds like a date," he smirked.

Mr. Wonka rolled his eyes, "Don't push your luck, smart-ass."

Charlie knew he'd had too much to drink when he went to stand up and the room began spinning. Bracing a hand against the table, he snorted quietly. "I'm toast." He whispered.

Mr. Wonka laughed, coming around the table. He wrapped his arm around Charlie's waist, supporting the other man as they made their way, unsteadily, towards the elevator. "And this is why I don't drink." He mused.

"Rub it in," Charlie grumbled, his head lulling against Mr. Wonka's shoulder. "You smell like candy." He blurted out.

Mr. Wonka blinked a few times, glancing sideways at Charlie's face as the doors opened and he steered them inside. "I work in a chocolate factory… I wonder why," he taunted.

"Wonder if you taste like candy, too."

Mr. Wonka froze, eyes widening. "I…" he trailed off, blinking owlishly at Charlie. "You really are drunk, aren't you?"

Charlie snorted, "No, I've just gone round the bend… and my thoughts are all jumbled inside my head. You always make my thoughts jump around, can't think straight round you."

Mr. Wonka gave a small, amused shake of his head. "I'm going to put this off on the bottle of wine, dear." He smiled.

Charlie pushed away from the chocolate maker just as the elevator lurched. He stumbled, catching Mr. Wonka's arm, and fell forward. They both landed on the floor as the elevator continued to sway and jerk. Charlie blinked down at the other man, watching as his hat rolled away to the other side of the elevator. Black hair was messy now, some of it falling into his face.

A small groan escaped Mr. Wonka as he squirmed beneath Charlie. "You're not allowed to drink anymore, and if you do drink, I'm taking my own elevator." He stated dryly.

Charlie's lips twitched. "You complain, too much. A right buzz killer, that's what you are." He shook his head as he started to get back to his feet, the elevator lurched again, and Charlie braced his hands on either side of Mr. Wonka's face.

The Chocolate marker frowned, eyebrow quirking. "Charlie?"

The young man bit his lip again, "I'm… going to regret this," he mused as he lowered his face, brushing his mouth across the other man's. He felt the chocolate maker go still beneath him as he moved his lips, deepening the kiss. Out of all the insane fantasies he'd toyed with over the years – he'd never imagined it going quite like this.

He also didn't expect to be kissed back, so the feeling of Mr. Wonka's lips moving against his made his eyes snap open again. He drew back, gasping quietly. His eyes were glued to Mr. Wonka's lips, parted and gasping. Glancing up, he watched the color stain the other man's cheeks.

"…Charlie?"

The elevator doors opened. Charlie scrambled off the other man, stumbling as he got to his feet. "S-Sorry," he managed.

Mr. Wonka sat up, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. "…No harm." He said softly. "You're drunk."

Charlie didn't protest the other man's assessment .

"Let's get you to your room, yeah?"

"yeah," Charlie nodded.

They walked slowly door the hall, Mr. Wonka's hand on Charlie's elbow, steering him towards the correct hallways. Charlie was thankful for it, because his brain was so muddled that he doubted he'd be able to find his way on his own.

Finally, coming to the familiar door, Charlie turned towards the chocolate maker. "Mr. Wonka…" he trailed off, not sure what to say.

"No harm, no foul." Mr. Wonka soothed. "Just go to bed, and don't think that just because you're hung over I'm going to excuse you from work." He added with a playful smile.

Charlie sighed, shoulder slumping. No man should be able to look so damn cute… "You're horrible to me," he complained.

"I am not, I'm sensible, you're the one who had too much to drink!" he protested.

Charlie smirked and reached up, snaking his hand around to the back of Mr. Wonka's neck. "Will, you need to stop being so cute." He told him before he leaned forward, kissing him again. He felt a surge of delight when the chocolate maker stepped forward, closing the distance between their bodies. The line of warmth made Charlie sigh into the kiss.

But it was over too soon, Mr. Wonka pulled back, blinking at Charlie. "We can't." he breathed when Charlie's hands came to rest on his waist. "Charlie…"

"Why can't we?"Charlie challenged.

"You're drunk,"

"I'm sober enough to know what I want."

"You've still been drinking, and I won't have this happen when I have doubts about you being in your right mind. Second, you lost a family member today, Charlie… you're hurting, and this just isn't the way to go about things."

Charlie sighed against and leaned his forehead against the other man's shoulder, nuzzling against the side of his neck for a second. "I know what I want." He whispered.

"Then come ask for it tomorrow, when you haven't been drinking." Mr. Wonka challenged, squirming again when Charlie's hot breath ghosted along his neck.

"I need liquid courage to ask you for this," Charlie complained, nipping at the warm skin.

Mr. Wonka hissed, squirming even more. "Enough. I've said all I will say on the matter. If you are still interested when there's no drink clouding your head, then talk to me. Until then, goodnight, Charlie." He stepped back, leaving Charlie leaning against the wall.

"You're so cruel to me." Charlie whispered.

Mr. Wonka's lips twitched. "So you say." He shrugged. "Goodnight," he repeated.

"Good night, Will."

Another twitch of the lips, "My, my… things have changed." He mused.

Charlie's eyebrow quirked.

"You're calling me by my first name now."

Charlie smirked. "Good day, sir."

Mr. Wonka turned away, laughing. "Good day, Charlie."