Would You Dance If I Asked You To Dance?

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A modern au where Bart and Panto are bffs and Panto has been pining over Silas for months, so Bart gives him a little push to ask out his crush for the dance.

Bart had never been one for subtlety. It had got her in trouble a few times, the combination of having no filter and the kind of self-assured confidence most five feet five eighteen year olds lacked. Bart was also not one for losing fights, luckily. Panto enjoyed her blunt sense of humour but even being her best friend (they even had the home-made bracelets to prove it) didn't mean he was immune from Bart's unfiltered honesty.

"Hey Panto, you're staring at him again," she said, nudging him with a sharp elbow.

"I am not staring at Silas Dengdamor."

Bart grinned and pointed her paintbrush at him, flicking specs of sliver in his direction. (They were painting sets of marshmallow mountains.) "Busted. I never said anything about Silas Dengdamor."

Panto sighed. "Look at him, so handsome and striking, I could write poetry about him."

Bart smiled and shook her head. "But nothing rhymes with 'asshole'."

"I would never use such language to describe my love. Beautiful perhaps..." Panto trailed off, staring at Silas again as he painted the set - a simple white cloud (Silas was a good acting but less good at painting and sword choreography).

"His Mom is an asshole," Bart answered, which was partially, true at least.

The Trosts and the Dengdamors had a feud that went back three generations. By the same criteria of petty arguments and pranks, caused by disagreements over which of their families restaurants were better, Panto's own Father probably seemed like an asshole to Silas and the rest of the Dengdamors. Panto wished there wasn't such a long-standing feud between their families: it would have made it easier to talk to Silas without the excuse of the play.

Bart had the calculating expression she usually wore when trying to work out if she could win a fight. (She always won.) "You're letting that fact ruin your chances with him."

"Who says I have a chance with such a beauty?"

"Me." Bart crossed her arms and managed to look very threatening. "The universe told me and I'm never wrong."

"You talk of the universe as if it speaks back."

Bart nodded. "I'm never wrong. I've never lost a fight because I'm untouchable. I knew the exact hair dye to buy for you and..." she gave him a pointed look.

"The first thing Silas said to me was that he liked my pink hair," Panto finished. It was a story Bart loved to bring up whenever they spoke about the universe or his crush on Silas. He wasn't quite sure if he believed in the same way she was (Bart's friendship with Dirk Gently no doubt encouraged that - Panto wasn't sure what happened in Holistic Club).

"The dance is tomorrow." Bart pointed her paintbrush in the direction of Silas, flicking paint onto him again. "Please."

"I cannot just ask him! The stars shine brighter when Silas is in the room. Pray tell, why would he agree to go with me?"

"I have a date and that was easy." Bart had a love struck expression when she mentioned Ken.

"You threatened to kill Ken if he didn't go with you," Panto countered.

"And then he decided that going to the dance with me was better than dying. It was very romantic. And I didn't like, actually threaten him."

Panto specifically remembered her bringing a pair of giant scissors from the prop cupboard (Amanda went for a very creative interpretation of 'Romeo and Juliet') which she pointed at Ken when asking him to the dance. He didn't bring that part up; sometimes it was just easier not to argue with Bart.

Bart wrapped her arm around him. "Panto, look at Silas."

He looked over and made eye contact with Silas, who had been staring at him. He flushed adorably and ducked. Panto waved and tried to ignore the fact he was probably blushing just as much.

"Go talk to him. If Silas brings up the dance, it's a sign from the universe that you should ask him out." Bart gave him a look that made it clear it wasn't optional.

Panto ran his hand through his hair and walked over to Silas. He would brave, for the universe and for Bart.

"Hello."

Silas had a wide-eyed look of panic. "Hello Panto, you look tall today. I mean-"

He laughed. "It's okay. I liked your scene earlier."

Silas bit his lip (which was distracting). "You saw me drop the sword, didn't you?"

"But only once today, that's an improvement." Panto glanced over his shoulder and spotted Bart doing a supportive thumbs-up. "It's a source of endless amusement for the rest of us."

"I'm working on my clumsiness," Silas said, still looking slightly embarrassed. "I suppose amusing you is worth it."

Panto smiled to himself. "Don't let your Mother hear you compliment a Trost."

"Perhaps I should be using my sword against you. Although losing to a Trost is probably worse than being nice to one in her eyes. My brother jokes she would be planning a war if you had got the lead."

"Such a petty feud; I'm glad we both agree."

Silas nodded. "Sometimes I fear it gets in the way of other things."

Panto swallowed nervously. "Like drama club?"

"Perhaps." He smiled like he held a secret in his very soul. "I just hope my clumsiness won't affect my dance skills."

If Silas brings up the dance, it's a sign from the universe. Bart's advice echoed in his mind. Maybe it was sign - or maybe Panto was more of a hopeless romantic than he would admit to himself.

"You were planning on attending the Spring Dance on Friday?" he asked, trying to keep a light tone.

"If I stay on my feet, yes. It is fairytale themed after all. I used to play princes with my brother when we were younger, it got us banished from the kitchen," Silas replied. "What about you Panto Trost?"

"Bart is attending the dance. I was considering going."

Silas shuffled closer on the bench. "Anything I can do to tilt the balance on you attending."

Panto glanced back over at Bart - if there was ever a time for her to be giving him a thumbs-up, it was now. She wasn't looking at them but at her work on painting.

If Silas brings up the dance, it's a sign from the universe that you should ask him out.

"Perhaps if you are struggling to stand on your feet, I could help you. Holding another's hand may be helpful."

Silas' mouth widened into a beaming, dorky smile. "Are you offering?"

He nodded, taking Silas' hand as promised. It was warm and gave him a slight thrill to have finally made a move. "Silas Dengdamor, would you do me the honour of attending the dance with me?"

Silas nodded and his dark brown eyes twinkled with a beautiful joy that warmed the very core of his heart.

"I would love nothing more, Panto Trost."

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