Chapter Text
Willy Wonka hated everything about Count Dracula. He hated the way he laughed, the oh-so-endearing smiles he’d offer, he hated the sharp nose that would just let his pale features glow whenever the light hit his face, and he especially hated the way those gorgeous eyes would soften whenever he sent those tempting glances his way. Everything about this man made his heart pound until he was sure that it would burst from his chest.
That particular morning, Will was watching as the count slid another wonka bar across the mahogany counter to a delighted customer. It had been so good for business, switching the audience from human to monster after his factory had been shut down, and Count Dracula had been more than delighted to help provide a substitute for all of monster-kind to enjoy.
Gosh, just the thought of Dracula being so kind as to let him and his colony of oompa loompas stay had caused his heart to melt and his cheeks to turn rosy hues.
Willy smiled at the child’s delight as the parents took the keys to their hotel room. He loved seeing the joy in a child’s face, and the terror of them falling into a river of chocolate, but that was neither here nor there, as Dracula called him over with the wave of his hand.
“Wonka?” Called Dracula with a softening smile that made Willy grab his hands and kiss him right there.
“Yes, Count?” Wonka responded, his face ever reddening as he twirled around a candy wrapper in his pocket.
“I… I need you to assist me with a very important matter, dear friend. You see… My sweet Mavy-Wavy. She needs a caterer for her little Denisovich’s birthday, and I see no better fit for the job than the most incredible chocolatier in this hotel,” said Dracula, with that sweet, sweet face of his.
How could Willy refuse? The man he loved, longed for, and desired so deeply… asking him to help? It would be simply wrong to refuse such a task from the man who had gotten him back on his feet.
Wonka’s reply was quick, stumbled, and spoken like it had been the “I do” he longed for, but knew he wouldn’t receive for a long, long while. “I-... Of course I will, Dracula! I’d… I’d be very happy to help.”
“Then it’s settled, you will be caterer… I know you’ll do well.” The vampire praised. Dracula’s smile rose to those ocean-blue eyes and walked away after brushing his soft fingertips on the shoulder of Wonka’s coat.
God… How could Willy ever focus on baking when he would forever be stuck with the memory of that simple, satisfying touch? He prayed he not overmix when he would inevitably fall into daydream over that beautiful, beautiful man.