Dark Fandom/OTP Challenge - DalKenzie Edition (edited)

Inspired by modern horror

[[AN: yes I am totally counting The Corpse Bride (especially the piano scene) as modern horror and y'all can't stop me :p]]

Chapter Text

So pale, his fingers were- they could have blended in with the ivory and the keys would have appeared to move of their own accord. But of course MacKenzie knew that wasn't the case. He silently watched Dalton continue to play the melody, low and sweet and mournful.

MacKenzie sighed inaudibly. Deep down he knew he couldn't blame the young man (felt so disrespectful to refer to him any other way) for being as upset as he was, but couldn't Dalton face his own inner truth as well, that there was no logical way for them to be together?

He carefully took the unoccupied space on the piano bench. The layer of atmosphere around Dalton was cooled as usual, but not the oppressive dead of winter cold. It was the sensation after the sun had been beating down hard for endless days finally punctuated by a misting rainfall. The cold of relief to provide shelter from reality.

MacKenzie laid a hand on the empty keys, two notes floating up from the pressure. They may have been running counter to Dalton's melody, who knows. He didn't think he knew much of anything anymore.

Dalton paused in his playing and reached a hand over. MacKenzie tried concentrating on the threadbare sleeve cuff as the young man wordlessly adjusted his fingers instead of on the marble-like touch of skin.

Tried.

The hand was drawn away and he pressed on the keys again, something much more musically coherent coming out.

"You're learning," Dalton said simply and went back to playing his bittersweet song.