Charlie recoiled, collapsing onto the floor, sobbing. Wonka caught him, wrapping his arms around Charlie. Charlie buried his face in Wonka's chest and cried. "What - what happened?" Wonka asked Charlie's parents.

"I went to give Charlie's grandparents their dinner, and Grandpa Joe didn't wake up," Mrs. Bucket said. "He died in his sleep."

"When?" asked Charlie.

"I don't know when, exactly," Mrs. Bucket said. "We found out just now. Someone is on their way to...get the body."

Charlie's eyes widened, and Wonka smoothed his hair back gently. Wonka didn't say anything like it was going to be okay, or tell him not to cry. He just held him.

They had a small funeral for Grandpa Joe the next day. Charlie's remaining grandparents were there, and Mike, and Violet, and Charlie's parents, and Charlie and Wonka. "I regret not spending enough time with him," Charlie said when it was just him and Wonka staring at Grandpa Joe's ashes.

"Hey," Wonka said. "You brought him to the factory with you that first day. He knew how much you loved him."

"I should have been with him when he died," Charlie said. "Instead I was with you."

Charlie was so disgusted with himself and he felt so guilty. Wonka looked taken aback.

"Do you...regret being with me?" Wonka asked him. Charlie looked at him, but he avoided Wonka's gaze. "I see," Wonka said coolly." Charlie didn't have the energy to stop him.

Alone in the courtyard behind the factory, Charlie sniffled. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Mike. Tell Violet I can't do the show anymore, he wrote.

Then, he returned to his apartment. Mike and Violet were out again, and he was alone. Despite himself, he missed Wonka. He went into the kitchen and made himself a rum and Coke, then sat down by the TV and drank while he watched TV.

After his second drink, he picked up his phone and dialed Wonka's number. "Hello?" Wonka asked.

"It's me," Charlie said. He hadn't really thought about what he would say if Wonka answered.

"You, as in the one who regrets what we did?" Wonka said icily. "Yeah, I got that."

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry and...I miss you," Charlie said.

"Don't worry, you'll probably end up regretting that too." A pause. "Are you drunk?"

"Uh…"

Wonka sighed deeply. "I have to go," he said, and then he hung up. Ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

"It's open," Charlie called, assuming it was Mike. It was Wonka.

"You owe me big time," Wonka said, removing his coat and hanging it on Charlie's coat hanger. He went into the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Charlie asked him, sitting up. He groaned and laid back down.

"Making you a cup of coffee," Wonka said, taking some chocolate coffee out of his coat. "It's my specialty." He finished making it and brought it to Charlie. "Drink."

"I don't want-"

"Drink," Wonka instructed.

Charlie did, staring at Wonka. "You can be quite scary, you know."

"Good."

Charlie laughed for the first time since Grandpa Joe died. He leaned in for a kiss, but Wonka put a hand on his chest. "No. Not when you're drunk. Besides, we still need to talk."

"Tomorrow, then," Charlie said. He knew he'd fucked up big time, and he owed it to Wonka to apologize while sober.

The next morning, Charlie woke alone in his bed. Wonka had slept on the couch, though Charlie figured he was the one who deserved the couch and Wonka the bed. "I don't have a hangover," Charlie announced as they ate breakfast. "I thought I would, but I don't."

"That'll be because of my coffee," Wonka said. "I made it specifically to cure hangovers."

Charlie felt ashamed. "Thank you," he said. "And...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. For everything. I was way out of line."

"That you were," Wonka agreed.

"I was never disgusted with you," Charlie said. "I was disgusted with myself, for not being with Grandpa Joe. I thought it was my fault, for not being there with him." A pause. "I could never regret what we did, Willy." Wonka's expression softened. "I was with someone I love, and someone who loves me." He gulped. "I hope."

Wonka got up and sat in the chair beside him, taking his hands. Charlie's heart began to race - Wonka was very close to him. "Charlie, even though I may have been mad at you, I never stopped loving you," he said. "Why do ya think I came here in the snow to take care of you?"

"I thought…" Charlie swallowed the lump in his throat. "I thought you might break up with me."

"No," Wonka said. "Never," he said even more softly, and kissed him just as softly. Charlie clutched the collar on his red-purple coat, pulling him even closer. The kiss was simple and innocent, but it still made Charlie's heart race. It was just lips to lips, no tongue. Charlie ran his hands down Wonka's chest, his hands finding his hips. Wonka's breath hitched against his lips.

They broke apart gasping, their noses still touching. They stayed like that for a minute, catching their breath. "I quit Violet's show," Charlie admitted as Wonka took his hands, lacing their fingers together.

"Why did you do that?"

"It didn't feel right continuing," Charlie said. "Not with Grandpa Joe dead."

"Whatever your reasoning, I support you," Wonka said.

"Thank you." Charlie rested his head on Wonka's chest, and the older chocolatier let him. He wrapped his arms around Charlie, holding him close. They stayed like that for a long, long time, even after their breakfast got cold.