Read All About It by @starlightments
Wanted to draw ANOTHER Klance fanart for this pride month, specifically my favorite klance fanfic AND favorite scene 😜😜🙏🏼 THANK YOU FANFIC GODS
"And god, Lance thinks, this must be everything that Keith despises so much—the gawking, the gossiping, being in the center of it all—but no one would ever be able to tell just by looking at him. Right here, he holds himself tall, still as marble, his face a perfectly chiseled blank canvas, fully absorbed in the blues of Lance’s dumbstruck eyes. What the hell are you doing, Lance wants to yell at him, but he doesn’t trust himself to open his mouth without his whole damn heart falling out of it. He can already feel the frenzied beating behind his molars, pulsing like a time-bomb, and the suspense of it is downright excruciating.
Especially as Keith begins reaching for the front of his jacket, gripping tight with both hands, and then—hesitates.
Lance chokes on his own spit so violently he thinks he might puke.
In slow-motion, Keith’s fingers pull the fabric apart, clasps popping open one by one, and the entire galaxy shrinks smaller and smaller with each piercing snap.
The rest goes something like this: the jacket slips off his shoulders and drops to his feet. Someone in the audience gasps, and then everyone begins howling and cameras are flashing and clicking and tweeting in rapid succession, and Lance is pretty sure he dissociates for a solid minute because—
Right here—looking like an ethereal god under the sun’s glare, or some sort of celestial fantasy come to fucking life—Keith is wearing a bright red jersey. A bright red jersey with big white block letters stitched onto the front. Big white block letters that spell out:
Lance’s eyes blow impossibly wide, aching inside their sockets, and he has to clap both hands over the lower half of his face just to keep his jaw from unhinging to the ground. He must look positively batshit crazy right now, all red-faced and frazzled in a way that’s going to make him cringe later when he watches the inevitable line-up of social media posts bombarding his timeline, but that’s, well... something of a secondary priority right now, honestly.
“Guh,” he garbles into his palms.
Maybe the first priority should be remembering how to speak.
Then Keith curls his lips, small and crooked and seemingly pleased by the miserable attempt at speech. He extends a hand, steady and fearless, waiting for Lance to take it.
“Let’s do prom, loverboy,” he says and a deafening screech ripples through the crowd."
