Imperfect

Imperfect

Rated: PG

Pairing: Charlie/Mike

Summary: Mike thinks that Charlie smiles too much and he hates that Charlie always smells like candy. A boy’s jumbled thoughts on the person who has changed his life.

Mike is far from perfect.

He has never been the same since stepping out of Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory. One does not get shrunken to the height of a few inches and then stretched to ten feet without coming out damaged—both physically and emotionally.

He is only six feet and a few inches now, after Charlie and Wonka (Wonka was rather reluctant but Charlie had managed to persuade him) built a machine that condensed things as opposed of stretching them. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience for Mike, and being compacted had been almost as bad as being stretched. He had screamed and screamed and demanded for the machine to be stopped. He is still tall, but at least he can (kind of) pass under doorways and not have to bend over whenever he is inside a room. Unfortunately, despite all the Wonka-Vites he had stocked up on, he is still unnaturally skinny and has a strange sickly, grotesque look to him—the natural one of someone who’s body had been forced to defy the laws of nature. His features still appear disconcertingly flat.

Mike has never been a bright, sunny, naïve boy, but after being thrown out of his own home, he has become bitterer than ever. He lashes out at whoever annoys him and rarely feels sorry for it because at least they’re not deformed. But sometimes Charlie is the victim of his harsh words and it is only then that Mike feels horribly guilty. Sometimes he says terrible things without meaning to—they just come out—and Charlie’s face crumbles and his eyes get suspiciously wet and he runs out of the room and refuses to speak a word to Mike for a long time. Mike usually feels so bad that he cannot eat and shuts himself up in his room and tries to lose himself in his video games.

Once, Mike had said something horrible about Charlie’s family and they hadn’t spoken for three days straight. Mike had tried so hard to apologize—even sending Charlie flowers by Oompa Loompa—but Charlie had refused to comply. Mike hadn’t eaten a single morsel of food and he hadn’t been able to get any sleep, either. He had even vomited twice. It had taken Wonka casually mentioning his sickliness and refusal to eat anything to get Charlie to see him. And when he had seen the ghost of a boy Mike had become in those three days, he had cried his eyes out. For weeks later, he had taken to smothering him even more than usual—Mike still blushed at the memory of the overly sappy words Charlie had repeated to him over and over again, followed by long, lingering kisses and warm, loving hands that traveled his body and left tingling trails upon Mike’s skin—and treating him as if he was fragile glass just waiting to shatter.

Charlie Bucket, the boy who has brought light to his life and changed him and saved him from an unimaginable fate. And even if he has never said it to Charlie’s face, he loves him with all his heart.

They have their ups and downs, just like an ordinary couple. Sometimes Charlie annoys the hell out of him, with all his upright morals and childishness and his stupid obsession with candy. Sometimes Charlie comes back from experimenting with Wonka and he smells so sweet that it hurts Mike’s senses. Sometimes Charlie is so selfless and generous and good that Mike just can’t stand him.

But it is Charlie who gives Mike a home and food and a ‘job’ so he can eventually support himself. It is Charlie who wants to share the Factory with him—even though Wonka is adamant that his life’s work should never touch the hands of a “television brat”—and it is Charlie who showers him with affection and pecks his cheek sweetly and holds his hand in public, not caring about the disapproving looks they receive from passersby. It is Charlie who makes him feel loved and special and like he is actually worth something. It is Charlie who sneaks into Mike’s room every night and climbs into his bed, and without a word, wraps himself tenderly around Mike and makes Mike feel safe and secure and appreciated. And most importantly of all, it is Charlie who takes all of Mike’s shit, lets him know that what he says is unacceptable, and yet comes back every time and forgives him and gives him yet another chance.

Mike knows that Charlie deserves someone better than a twerpy teenager who never looks quite normal, even though most people cannot put their finger on why he looks so wrong. He knows that Charlie is too good for him. But Charlie has promised forever—Mike knows that this is highly improbable, but for once in his life, he hopes that he will be proved wrong—and Mike is going to hold on for as long as he can, because he doesn’t think he could ever love anyone else the way he loves Charlie.