The Chocolate Factory
Title: The Chocolate Factory
Fandom: Charlie and The Chocolate Factory (yes disturbing I know)
Pairing: Willy/OMC
Rating: R (for wankage)
Summery: Willy Wonka regrets.
Length: Fun Size
Written for: Glitter Trash Slash http://community.livejournal.com/ficofthemonth
Whack, whack, whack, Willy jacked off, dreaming of pretty glam boys and girls with cotton candy hair and gum drop eyes. Club kids, with wild clothes and perfect rock n' roll candy colored angel faces.
Let music pound, and lights shine through sugar staind glass, but it was never as good as the real thing. He finished with a malcontent sigh, body spilling what looked like cream inside a chocolate easter egg over his stomach, he glanced down over his lean pale chest, almost fascinated at the sight. He's almost tempted to taste it, but he knows it's bitter.
Too tired, too tired of it all. Pretty dark eyed boy, pretty dark eyed man, with thin drawn mouth and pale skin. He glanced at his gloves, the ones he wore to keep him separate from other humans, glanced at his long fingered, beautiful bony white hands.
He bit into a perfect nail, it tasted of sin; he wondered if he could make a candy for nail biters, he'd never been one before, but sexual dissatisfaction could make a man crazy, and he was a man, despite how hard he tried to be something entirely different.
Willy Wonka... the brilliantly bizarre candy sprite was a man, a lonely, dissatisfied man, whose lover had left him a week ago. He'd subsisted on chocolate, mixed drinks that tasted like candy, and flavored cigarettes ever since, he lived in a sugar coated depression wrapped up in bright shiny cellophane. He remembered Joe, seeing him for the first time in gaudy makeup and bright clothes, Willy had thought he looked like candy, but those rich cocoa brown eyes were what had got him, those chocolate colored irises seeming to gaze into his soul, as if for the first time someone actually understood him. He swore his lover's sweat had tasted like peppermint... but Joe had gotten sick of him, the way one gets sick if one eats too many fun size candy bars. Willy had gone from entertaining, to tolerable, to downright annoying, and now the only person he'd cared about... was gone.
Fandom: Charlie and The Chocolate Factory (yes disturbing I know)
Pairing: Willy/OMC
Rating: R (for wankage)
Summery: Willy Wonka regrets.
Length: Fun Size
Written for: Glitter Trash Slash http://community.livejournal.com/ficofthemonth
Whack, whack, whack, Willy jacked off, dreaming of pretty glam boys and girls with cotton candy hair and gum drop eyes. Club kids, with wild clothes and perfect rock n' roll candy colored angel faces.
Let music pound, and lights shine through sugar staind glass, but it was never as good as the real thing. He finished with a malcontent sigh, body spilling what looked like cream inside a chocolate easter egg over his stomach, he glanced down over his lean pale chest, almost fascinated at the sight. He's almost tempted to taste it, but he knows it's bitter.
Too tired, too tired of it all. Pretty dark eyed boy, pretty dark eyed man, with thin drawn mouth and pale skin. He glanced at his gloves, the ones he wore to keep him separate from other humans, glanced at his long fingered, beautiful bony white hands.
He bit into a perfect nail, it tasted of sin; he wondered if he could make a candy for nail biters, he'd never been one before, but sexual dissatisfaction could make a man crazy, and he was a man, despite how hard he tried to be something entirely different.
Willy Wonka... the brilliantly bizarre candy sprite was a man, a lonely, dissatisfied man, whose lover had left him a week ago. He'd subsisted on chocolate, mixed drinks that tasted like candy, and flavored cigarettes ever since, he lived in a sugar coated depression wrapped up in bright shiny cellophane. He remembered Joe, seeing him for the first time in gaudy makeup and bright clothes, Willy had thought he looked like candy, but those rich cocoa brown eyes were what had got him, those chocolate colored irises seeming to gaze into his soul, as if for the first time someone actually understood him. He swore his lover's sweat had tasted like peppermint... but Joe had gotten sick of him, the way one gets sick if one eats too many fun size candy bars. Willy had gone from entertaining, to tolerable, to downright annoying, and now the only person he'd cared about... was gone.