Title: Our secret
Category: Books » Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Author: The Queen Of Broken Hearts
Language: English, Rating: Rated: T
Genre: General
Published: 08-07-08, Updated: 08-07-08
Chapters: 1, Words: 1,192

AN: I know, I know… I should finish what I start instead of re-vamping old stories, but sometimes an old story just needs a little help to get back on its feet.
Our Secret is one of my earliest stories; and while it has been revamped in the past I thought it could use another face lift to go with my new style of writing.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from this story besides the very basic plot (is there even a plot?) The characters belong to whoever they belong to, and I think the rest of the world is very grateful for this fact; as I am a horrible person and do horrible things with other peoples characters :D

Warning: This story is a slash story which means it has a relationship between two male characters. If this offends you or bothers you in any way once so ever I suggest you hit the back button and find a story more suited to your tastes.

Thank you!

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Sitting in the plush window seat, a pillow tucked against his chest, Willy Wonka stared out at the snow covered front lawn of the factory; feeling a somewhat hollow sensation in the general area of his heart.

"Will?" The voice that spoke was timid, not frightened but filled with nerves.

Willy found a bitter smile on his lips when he turned his head and regarded the teenage boy framed in the doorway by the light spilling from the hall. "What is it, Charlie?" he asked.

Charlie Bucket had changed in the six years since he arrived at the factory. He was almost the same height as his mentor, and his mousy brown hair was teasing the nape of his neck. The shocking eyes regarded the chocolate maker with a solemn knowledge.

"I can't sleep," Charlie admitted. He stood there in childish, cloud covered PJ's, his hair mussed from sleep, but those eyes held something that wasn't the fright of a normal nightmare.

Any other night Willy would have sent Charlie back to his room without a second glance. They were already walking on thin ice with his parents these days; the whispers in the news papers had begun to reach the Bucket family's ears and they were none too pleased by it.

"Do you need to talk about it?" he asked.

Charlie smiled faintly, just a twitch of his lips. He stepped into the bedroom and let the door swing shut behind him with a solid thud. The room always amazed the teenager; it clashed so perfectly with the man that most people saw as childish.

The bed was a huge thing, set in the center of the room and covered in red and black pillows. The comforter was a fluffy thing; full of feathers and fluff, colored a deep, deep red. The sheets with silk and the color of spilled ink. The walls were a reach chocolate cream, looking perfect when paired with the dark wood of the floor.

There was only one window in the entire room, usually closed to the outside world. Tonight the drapes were drawn back and the light from the world outside spilled around Willy's slender frame as he followed Charlie's progress across the room.

The teen settled himself on the edge of the bed, sighing softly. "I… in the dream, mom and dad were making me leave the factory." He explained. "it scared me more than anything I've ever dreamt before." He tried to laugh it off, rubbing the back of his neck.

Willy didn't smile, he didn't laugh it off like he usually did, or try to tease Charlie back into a good mood. He turned his head and looked out the window for a long moment. "Have they been talking about that?" he wondered. "leaving, I mean?"

Charlie shook his head. "Not with me, no… but, I heard them discussing things with Grandpa Joe," he made a face. "They believe what the papers are saying."

Willy snorted. "The papers say many things, most of it untrue."

"True," Charlie tilted head to the side, wishing the Willy would at least look at him. "Is it untrue?"

Willy's shoulders stiffened. He turned his head and regarded the teen. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Do you love me?"

Willy scuffed loudly, laughing very softly. "Of course I love you, Charlie, what are you going on about?"

Charlie rose from the bed and crossed the room. He stopped in front of the man and laid a hand on his shoulder, watching the way he recoiled from the touch. "Do you love me?" he repeated. "love,"

Willy stared up into those too knowing eyes and tried to look away. "Charlie…"

"Don't look away!" Charlie grabbed him by his shirt jerking him off the window bench and onto his feet. "Damn it, Will, I have to know!"

Willy's eyes narrowed. "Let. Go. Of. Me." He hissed through gritted teeth.

Charlie closed his eyes and cursed before loosening his grip. "I need to know…" he whispered. "I need to know before they make me leave you."

"Charlie…" Willy shook his head. "Your parents aren't planning on leaving…"

"You don't believe that any more than I do," Charlie whispered. "You know they are, they just haven't said anything yet. They'll do it quietly because that's how they are, they wouldn't want to shame you or anything."

Charlie lifted his gaze and met the inhuman lilac colored eyes. He had never seen eyes that color before; and doubted he would again. He reached a hand up and laid it against the pale cheek of a face so perfect it could have been carved by a master of art. "Would saying that I love you mean anything or am I just wasting my time here?"

Willy flinched away from Charlie's hand. "You're sixteen," he whispered.

"That's not a no," Charlie added hopefully.

Willy laughed weakly, shaking his head in amusement. "It means no… for no at least." He flinched when the words were out, hating what they implied, but hating himself more for feeling the heat that was dancing through him at Charlie's touch.

Charlie's lips twitched again. "Fine, fine, two years is a small price to pay…" he grinned suddenly. "Well, I guess I better get back to bed…" the grin widened. "can I have a kiss goodnight?"

Willy's eyes widened. "Charlie, I just told you…"

"There's nothing that says you can't kiss me." Charlie protested. "Please?"

Willy stared into the pleading brown eyes and sighed. He cupped Charlie's cheek and leaned forward, brushing a chaste kiss to the pale lips. "Good night, Charlie." He whispered.

"Good night, Mr. Wonka."