When Hunk first told him that one of Lance’s strengths was stealth, he choked. Hard. Because that couldn’t possibly be true. Lance was… well, Lance.
Loud and obnoxious. He was made to be seen, to lure people in and keep them there.
And that was exactly what he did.
He made heads turn, became the centre of attention. It was foolish of Keith to think that Lance would handle stealth any other way than he handled the rest of the things he did.
He lit up the room by simply being there. It seemed impossible for him to step into one unnoticed.
And he didn’t have to.
He hid in plain sight, donned and wore another person’s skin like one would wear a coat. Like he did it everyday. Juggling multiple personas, like it was nothing, sliding from one into another in a matter of sentences.
Countless times has he watched him change the line of his spine, pull back his shoulders where there were usually slouched, hold his tongue when Keith was already expecting a comment, demand respect with a voice forged with steel, seduce an entire audience with eyes glinting like the edge of a blade.
He was a smile as sincere as a child’s in one second, the cold metal of a gun barrel against the skin of a throat in the next.
His stealth was the art of performance, imitation, blending in by being seen. Pulling on Keith like flame did with a moth, made him question everything he saw, while still making him starve for more.