A warm body pressed against his own. Charlie moaned, tangling his fingers in soft, silky chocolate hair. Someone kissed him, fiercely, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "You are so...eatable," Wonka's voice whispered, voice thick with lust, and Charlie shivered. His eyes fluttered closed as Wonka's mouth closed around him, sucking. Charlie gasped, his breath hitching as Wonka took him deep-
Charlie woke up gasping, his sheets soaked. He felt himself throbbing and wrapped a hand around his aching length, confused. What was going on? And why did he have that dream about Wonka?
He went into his bathroom to clean himself up. Once the aching had subsided, he stood there for a moment before he thought of who to ask for help. He didn't know the Oompa Loompas well enough, and Wonka's room was right across the hall.
Sighing, he went to the chocolatier's room and knocked. "Mr. Wonka, I need help," Charlie called. After knocking a few more times, Wonka answered the door, squinting and blinking, his hair a mess. Charlie stared - he'd never seen Wonka after just having risen from sleep before.
"Charlie? It's the middle of the night. Is everything okay?" Wonka asked.
"I think I wet the bed," Charlie said, "but I haven't done that in so long. And I felt a pain in my..." He trailed off, face reddening.
Wonka stared at him for a second, confused, before his eyes widened in comprehension. "Oh," he said. "Let me get you some clean sheets, kay? I'll have the Oompa Loompas wash yours."
"Wait...Can I stay with you?" Charlie asked. He didn't want to be alone.
Wonka hesitated, then nodded, opening up the door all the way so Charlie could enter. He followed Wonka to his bed, and the older man wrapped his arms around Charlie. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about, my dear boy," he murmured. "All boys go through it sooner or later."
"Mr. Wonka," Charlie sighed, snuggling closer to him.
Wonka smiled in the darkness, falling asleep shortly after.
Charlie was fourteen when he and Wonka had their first fight.
Wonka was busy, and Charlie was not allowed to use any equipment in the Inventing Room by himself. Knowing this, he was bored one day and wanted to try out an idea while Wonka was outside the factory. Wonka returned and caught him, and when he yelled at him, Charlie jumped and dropped a beaker. "What are you doing?!" Wonka rushed over to him, checking him for injuries. "You KNEW not to come in here, yet you disobeyed me?! This is about trust and safety, Charlie!"
"I - I'm sorry, Mr. Wonka," Charlie said, his heart sinking and vision blurring with tears.
Wonka signaled the Oompa Loompas to clean up Charlie's mess. "What on earth were you thinking?!"
"I was thinking that you don't trust me and that's why you won't let me work in here by myself!" Charlie shouted. Wonka jumped, taking a step back. "We could get work done so much faster if you would just believe in me! But you don't!" He glared and ran out of the room, ignoring Wonka's calls.
Wonka found him about a half hour later, having his hand wrapped by an Oompa Loompa in the infirmary. Bits of glass had been stuck in it and Charlie had needed stitches. "You okay?" he asked, sitting down beside Charlie on the bed.
Charlie sniffled. "My hand is," he replied coolly.
"All done," the Oompa Loompa said, taking the discarded bandages and thread to throw them away as he left, leaving the two alone.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you," Wonka said. "I just feel so protective of you...I couldn't stand it if something happened to you because of me." He picked up Charlie's injured hand and ran his thumb over it. Charlie felt his heart speed up just a little bit faster.
"I don't blame you," Charlie said. "I just want you to trust me."
"My dear boy, I do." Wonka's shoulder brushed his, and Charlie was finding it difficult to breathe. "Why don't we go back to the Inventing Room when you're feeling better and the mess is cleaned up, and I'll teach you about safety, kay?"
Charlie nodded. His and Wonka's gazes met, and suddenly, without Charlie knowing who initiated it, they were kissing. Wonka's lips caressed his in a deep kiss, his tongue darting out to lick at Charlie's bottom lip. Moaning, Charlie allowed Wonka entrance, the feeling of Wonka's tongue against his strange and new. Their kiss grew heated, and Charlie gathered the courage to slide his hand up under Wonka's shirt.
Gasping, Wonka pulled away from Charlie's mouth, though he seemed reluctant to do so. "Oh my, w-what are we doing?" he gasped, his lips swollen from kissing and his hair a mess from Charlie's hands running through it. Adorable. "We can't do this. I'm sorry, Charlie."
"Mr. Wonka-" Charlie started, but it was too late. Wonka was already leaving.
Wonka didn't speak to Charlie for several days after The Kiss. When he did, he acted as though nothing had happened. And so life went on, but Charlie still thought of it every day. Every day he thought of how good the kiss had been, and dreamed of feeling those lips on his again.
One night when he was sixteen, Charlie returned home from a party, drunk. He'd been out with some kids from his high school and returned to the factory late. He knocked on Wonka's office door, knowing the chocolatier would be up late working on the finance part of the factory. "Come in," Wonka's voice called. Charlie knew him too well.
He pushed open the door and almost stumbled over the threshold. Wonka turned in his chair. "How was the party?"
"Good," Charlie slurred.
Wonka's eyes widened. "You're drunk."
"Maybe," Charlie said, sitting down on Wonka's lap. The chocolatier gasped. "Kiss me."
"Charlie," Wonka gasped, his breath hitching. It was a warning.
"No. I can't go on like this. Pretending like we didn't bloody kiss two years ago, and you just pretended like nothing happened," Charlie said angrily. "You never talked to me about it."
"Now, when you are drunk, is not the time to discuss this," Wonka pointed out, his voice cool and distant. "Go to sleep, and if you're still interested in the morning, then come find me."
"I want you now," Charlie whispered in his ear, and Wonka shivered. His lips trailed down Wonka's neck, and the older man leaned his head back, moaning. Charlie's hand slid down to Wonka's lap, where he was growing hard.
Suddenly, Wonka's hand reached out and grabbed Charlie's wrist. "I'm not doing this tonight," Wonka insisted. "I mean it."
Charlie sighed, noting Wonka's obvious signs of arousal - dilated pupils and the now very noticeable bulge in his lap. "I'm not forgetting this, then," Charlie said.
Wonka snorted. "That depends on how much you've had to drink, my dear."
Charlie flushed in embarrassment and got off Wonka's lap, heading for the door and closing it behind him.
The next morning, Charlie found Wonka in the Inventing Room. "Hi," he said shyly, much less bold now compared to the previous night.
"Ah, Charlie. Come to have that talk?" Wonka said, his eyes glittering mischievously.
"Don't embarrass me any more than I already am," Charlie groaned.
Wonka chuckled, and Charlie glared at him as he approached him. "I don't mind talking about it, Charlie," he said. "Just not while your rational mind is clouded with alcohol."
"Then why didn't we talk about it two years ago?" Charlie asked.
"After we kissed, I was trying to figure out how I felt," Wonka admitted. "I wasn't sure if my feelings came from the heat of the moment or if I actually had romantic feelings towards you."
"And?" Charlie asked. "What did you find?"
"I found that you make my heart race," Wonka said, stepping closer to him. Charlie's own heart sped up. "I found that you're the only family I need, and that some things are stronger than blood."
"Like what?"
"I love you, Charlie." Wonka took his hands, and Charlie gasped. "And I realized over the past two years that this is the most real thing I've ever felt. You have no idea how hard it was for me to pull away last night, when that was the last thing on my mind."
"Oh? And what was on your mind?" Charlie asked breathlessly.
"This," Wonka said, and kissed him. Charlie melted against him, his knees weakening. He could hardly breathe as Wonka pressed him up against the table, kissing him harder. Charlie moaned, clutching the collar of Wonka's red-purple coat because he was unsure what to do with his hands.
Their kisses were hot and hungry, and Charlie pulled away to speak. "I want to go further," he gasped as Wonka's lips trailed down his neck and kissed his throat. He tugged at Charlie's neckline impatiently, trying to get the fabric out of the way. Charlie had other ideas. He unbuttoned Wonka's trousers and tugged them down, wrapping a hand around his hardening length.
"Oh!" Wonka cried out, whimpering as Charlie bent down on the ground and took him in his mouth. Wonka's eyes fluttered closed and his knees trembled as Charlie's tongue wrapped around him, whimpers and moans escaping the chocolatier's lips. Charlie savored the noises his lover was making and took him deep. "Ch-Charlie," Wonka gasped, his hands fisting in the younger man's hair.
It didn't take long for Wonka to come, and Charlie swallowed, choking for a minute due to his lack of experience. His mentor's semen was sweet, which didn't surprise Charlie. Wonka stood there gasping, his pupils dilated. "That was incredible. You're incredible," he said, pulling Charlie into his arms.
"Not as incredible as you," Charlie said, wrapping his arms around Wonka's neck. "I love you, Willy."
"And I love you, my dear Charlie," came Wonka's reply, followed by another kiss.