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Autumn into Spring	By : Moonpup Category: A through F > Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Views: 5852 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Disclaimer: If I owned Charlie, The Chocolate Factory or Willy Wonka instead of Roland Dahl you think I’d be disclaiming them????
Warnings: slash M/M Adult Charlie and Wonka. Nothing really terrible, that is to come in later chapters, mwahahahahahahahaaaaaa!
Inspiration: Des’ree: “Kissing you” and “Children Arrive” from the Finding Neverland Soundtrack.
AUTUMN INTO SPRING.

It had been too many years.
Too many years since Charlie came here.
Too many years since his amazement in child-like glee at the world to which Mr. Willy Wonka inhabitant. The sights and smells and the Oomph Loompas.
Charlie was now Sixty-Eight years old.
Wonka was even older. God knows how old.
They were in the inventing room, like always, thinking and creating, like always. Years of routine had got to them and both were now feeling the strain of old age on their shoulders.
“I think that’ll be it for today, my dear.” Even in old age Wonka’s eyes still held the excitement and energy of imagination. Even when his body had given up and he was no longer terrible eccentric, just very old and weary.
Years had been kind, their hair was now grey but still full, no baldness for anyone! Wrinkles were a fine network across their skin, as if Mother Nature had tried to let on their age in the most humane way possible.
Charlie smiled as Wonka faffed away the Oompas who, in all their god kindness and devotion, were trying to help him get up.
“I don’t need any help! Go on!” he was being bad tempered in a good natured way. He held out his arm and Charlie took it as they walked slowly down to corridor from the inventing room to the river boat.
His smile turned to horror when Wonka coughed and brought up blood promptly collapsing on top of some Oompas.
“Willy!”

The doctor came out of Wonka’s room, with that look on his face that tells you everything and nothing at the same time.
“Mr. Wonka is incredibly old, I have never seen the like of it!, but as with all his body cannot cope, I do not think he will live more that three days.”
Charlie nodded, mute, and carefully walked in, not only to be as quiet as he could, like most people like to do because they think it will help the unfortunate individual, but also because his arthritis was up with a vengeance.
Wonka’s room was dark, no windows, dressed in purple. Oompas were around, doing bits and pieces the doctor no doubt instructed them to do, all very quiet, no singing and the occasional sniffle.
One of them pulled a chair close to the bed and a few more helped Charlie down onto it.
Wonka’s thin white face was relaxed, drugged, asleep too old and too ill.
Charlie took his hand and sat there staring, Wonka soon to be deceased, RIP with all the love of chocolate filled children everywhere.
“Charlie?”
Wonka’s eyes slowly opened and winced in the light in his room, one of the Oompas turned it out. He turned and looked at Charlie, his purple eyes now dulled to a grey blue.
“I am here Willy.”
The hand in his tightened a little and a smile not unlike his usual graced his lips.
“I do not wish to die.”
“No body wishes it, but it happens to all, to loved ones and nameless faces.”
“But what will happen to the factory? The Oompas? Charlie you aren’t going to be around forever either…”
Wonka’s eyes closed for a moment, a wave of pain rippled through his body.
“Shhhhhh….” Charlie reached to stroke back the hair from Wonka’s forehead.
“I shall deal with it, have no fear.”
Wonka looked at him, such affection in his face, he reached up to stroke Charlie’s cheek.
“I have none.”
They continued to smile at each other, oblivious to the interesting conversation the Oompa Loompas were having. Clicking, nodding, making gestures, finally they all nodded and two went out.
A single tear ran down Charlie’s face.
“I don’t want to you die either, I want you to live, with me and continue the life we had.”
Wonka closed his eyes again.
“Willy?”
Eyes opened.
“I want that also, I would, however make one small change.”
“And that would be?”
Wonka’s long fingers wrapped around the material of Charlie’s jumper and pulled him down slowly into a soft kiss.
Charlie knew it was going to happen before it did, he saw it in Wonka’s face.
“That would be a change for the better, I feel.”
“Indeed.”
They kissed again. Then Wonka settled back and closed his eyes again. Charlie sat and watched the rise and fall of his chest, listening to the pounding of his own heart, feeling the tears run down his cheeks in abundance.
The Oompas quietly returned, their leader gently tugged on Charlie’s trousers.
Charlie wiped his face, “Yes? What is it?”
The Oompas murmured together and two produced a box, their leader opened it and brought out a bottle. The bottle was gracefully in shape and cut of elegant glass, it’s contents was a liquid in the most beautiful colours of purple, lilac, greens and blues, all the colours ever created.
Charlie looked in wonder. The Oompa leader indicated for him to relax.
Then he got up onto the bed and walked over to Wonka, who acknowledged him with only the slight opening of his eyes. The Oompa leader opened Wonkas mouth and took the lid of the top of the bottle. The lid was a glass orb that also has a long straw like dropper under it that held drops of the substances in it. The Oompa leader held the dropper over Wonka’s open mouth and the drops descended into it.
Then he went over to the confused and bewildered Charlie and indicated for him to open his mouth, which Charlie did. The Oompa Leader repeated the same routine.
At first Charlie thought that it may have been some ritual of the Oompa Loompas, perhaps to say farewell to their master and saviour from their fearful life in Loompa Land. Then swirls over colours over came his sight and he felt like his skin was tingling and he had the vague notation that he had fallen off his chair, the Oompas were around him in strange colours and streaks of stars. Charlie wondered weather they had poisoned him, thinking that he would rather die with Wonka than live alone. Maybe they were right.

Willy Wonka opened his eyes.
He felt fine.
More than fine, he felt good, strong and energetic.
What?
He could get up, he did, gingerly and walked over to the mirror.
And almost fainted, the Oompas holding him.
In the mirror he saw a face, his face but not old and winkled but young and vibrant and full of hope.
He saw his Twenty-Five year old face from the time when he was just starting out, in his little shop of Wonka Chocolate. His hair was shorter, not the bob, he could see the slightly spiked blackness, thicker with youth. His face was smooth and pale, with a hint of pink colouring. His eyes were bright and beautiful.
He was young again.
He turned, open mouthed at the Oompas who stood there, passive faced but pleased with the results.
Then Wonka remembered Charlie.
A groan from the other side of the bed answered him and he went over, picking Charlie up.
“What happened?”
“A miracle my dear Charlie.”
Charlie uncovered his hands from his face and Wonka was looking down into Eighteen year old Charlie’s face, the memory of which he had always held close, every time he had looked upon him.
His hair was golden brown a wispy here and there, slim and well proportioned, toned, feminine body, his eyes wide, bright and very blue full of sweet confusion that made Wonka go to jelly.
Charlie’s jaw hung on the floor.
“How the-? what the-?…”
He touched Wonka’s face.
“Your not old!”
“Neither are you.”
He brought Charlie over to the mirror, and smiled as Charlie’s eyes grew wider.
“I’m young!”
His old man clothes slipped of his hips, wide for a boy, and his jumper was too long.
Charlie turned to look at Wonka.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m perfectly healthy my dear.”
The they both turned to face the Oompa Loompas who had allowed themselves to grin.
“Alright, what did you lot do?, not that we aren’t grateful, but a tad confused….”
The Oompa leader came forth with the bottle, still looking full.
“Anti-ageing, all healing power.” was all he said.
“You cured Willy and made us young?”
Nods all round.
“But why?”
All the Oompas in the room crowded round them and proceeded to hug their knees.
“No go.” they all said.
Willy smiled, Charlie was startled.
“You made us young so that we wouldn’t go?”
Nods all round.
“I suppose that the reward you get for treating them with respect, kindness and friendship.” Wonka looked at him.
“Charlie…”
Charlie smiled, now a shy teen smile, and kissed him.
“I love you too.”
Wonka smiled, his proper crazy smile and they snogged* each other till the Oompas had to pull them off each other, fearing for their breathing purposes.
“I don’t know what to say.”
So Wonka knelt down and gave them all a big hug.
Charlie kissed them, making the Oompas blush like school girls.

Some time later, when they had finally parted to change, Wonka was back in his usually attire of Purple, now younger, he realised that he was younger than Charlie remembered him by, in the days when his Grandpa Joe worked for him. He mused, they would now live beyond all human possibility and even though Wonka had already done this, he felt a strange sense of wisdom in his soul.
Charlie emerged, in Blue Jeans-like hotpants and a long sleeves top that was slightly too big round the shoulders, causing the top to fall of his left shoulder. His top was white with a purple strip going around is chest, he wore no shoes. He looked utterly delicious.
He walked over and placed his hand on Wonka’s cheek, with a look of strange wonder on his face.
“Is this how Grandpa Joe saw you? When he worked for you?”
“I imagine so.”
“It seems strange to see you with out your bob, or so young looking….but I am glad, we can now go on again, like you wished and we do not have to worry about the factory, we’ll be around for a long time yet.”
Wonka took his hand and lifted the other, holding both of them in his.
“With one small change…”
Charlie smiled.
“Yes one small change.”
Charlie still had to get up on his toes to give Wonka a straight same level height kiss. His right leg bent at the knee, like maybe a scatty school girl, except Charlie was neither.
Wonka pulled him in more, wrapping his arms around Charlie’s girlish waist as Charlie wrapped his around Wonka’s neck.
They parted and looked contently on each other.
Then Wonka grabbed his wrist.
“Come on! There is sooooooo little to be done!…wait…..”
“Scratch that.” Charlie smiled, Wonka smiled back.
“Indeed, Much more inventing to be done, my Love!”
Charlie felt a small thrill in his heart at those words.
And ran with Wonka to the elevator, he hadn’t done that in Thirty years….

* Brit slang for a very long deep kiss involving tongues.
CHAPTER TWO COMING SOON!!….I HOPE….
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Autumn into Spring