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No Distractions - AU Keith (Barbarian 2022)

Title: No Distractions Warning: 18+ smut, coarse language, alcohol consumption, and mentions of a toxic relationship. Summary: A woman escaping her past finds herself in a double-booked Airbnb, unsure if she can trust the kind stranger she meets there. Note: I won't elaborate on my absence from the fandom in this note, but after watching Barbarian, I absolutely HAD to write the scene we all wished for. This piece has no horror elements and no spoilers for the movie. So, even if you haven't watched it, you may still enjoy this smutty little one-shot I whipped together super quick. A like, comment and mostly, a reblog would really make my day. Come on, Bill fandom. I know you're still breathing!

The flight was one of the worst 3 hours of her life, and the last few weeks had already tested her limits. There was not one but two screaming children on board, her seatmate was a flatulent chatterer, and the frequent turbulence reminded her that she was suspended above the clouds, at nature's mercy.

But those weeks were behind her now. All that remained between her and a clean, warm bed was a keypad which clicked and blinked green after she punched in the 6-digit code.

The apartment was a chilly 66 degrees—much cooler than any place should be in the fall, but the space was larger than the photos on the booking app, so she forgave the frigid temperature and kicked off her shoes. She dropped her bags on the floor and flopped onto the plush, grey sofa. A laminated sheet on the table outlining the renter's rules, the wifi code and a few nearby restaurants hooked her interest just as her stomach rumbled.

Though a hot meal after bland, overpriced airline food sounded like heaven, the fluffy throw pillows and steam-cleaned cushions of the sofa beckoned her. She laid down and soon fell asleep to the sound of sweet, sweet nothing.

As she sank into a dream, the bedroom door opened, and a tall man stepped out into the hall. He entered the living room, first spotted the bags next to the sofa, froze, and looked around for other irregularities. The vibration from a phone startled him, and he peered over the back of the sofa and found a young woman very much asleep. Her mouth was open, a trail of drool seeping from her lips and onto the throw pillow. The phone rumbled and rumbled.

"Um... Hello? Miss? Uh, hey. Wake up."

The girl snorted but did not wake. He leaned over, tapped her on the shoulder once, and then stepped back to avoid flailing limbs. Her eyes rolled under the lids, and when she realized what was happening, she jolted upward with a yelp.

"Who the fuck are you?" She asked.

"Uh, I'm Keith. But um, I think I should be the one asking who you are and why you're in my Airbnb."

"What are you talking about? I'm renting this place."

"That's impossible."

"No, it's not impossible. Look," she said, grabbing her phone off the table and ignoring the several missed calls. As she fumbled for a confirmation email, she dismissed another call. Keith grimaced at the small print on the screen.

"I can't really read that without my glasses," said Keith. "But I believe you. There's obviously been some kind of mistake."

"No shit," she said.

Keith held his hands behind his back and went quiet. She deflated on the sofa with a groan.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I've had a hellish few days, and it's just my luck something like this would happen."

"Let me call these idiots and see what we can do."

She stood and gathered her bags in a hurry. "No, no. I should go. I mean, you were here first. You have dibs."

Keith grabbed her shoulder, and she flinched. He withdrew his hand immediately and stepped away, palms open.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. But we should work this out. And, it's rather late," Keith pointed at the balcony doors and the blackness beyond the pane. "I can't put a lady out on the street. That would be terrible. Let me make the call, and maybe we can figure something out. Or at least get your money back."

"That will still leave me without a place to stay. So, I should probably find a hotel before it's too late."

"Please, I'd like to make this right. Let me at least call. You can take the bedroom if anything, and I'll sleep out here. Just for tonight."

She clutched her bags, eyes searching for anywhere to land except Keith.

"I swear I'm not a creep," he said.

"I don't know if you saying you're not a creep helps at all."

"You're right... Fuck, this is not good."

"Nope," she said.

As the awkward silence deepened, her phone vibrated in her hand.

"Uh, do you need to answer that?"

She swiped the caller away again and dropped the device in her pocket. "No."

"Just 'cause I noticed you were getting lots of calls as I came out here and found you. Not that I was out here for long! That'd be weird. I was just... Well, I wasn't sure if I should wake you, but then I thought, of course, I should wake her, and your phone was just ringing and ringing. Maybe someone was trying to get ahold of you for something important. I don't know. I'm totally rambling now, and you probably think I'm a psycho."

Despite his unforeseen presence, Keith was not a man she would classify as creepy. He had big, kind eyes and seemed concerned for her well-being.

But that's how serial killers find their prey, she thought. However, there was something about his demeanour that denounced any kind of predatory inclinations. He stood with a slight hunch, perhaps because she was significantly shorter than him, tripped over his words, and fidgeted as he spoke. But would she recognize a violent criminal with these disarming behaviours at the ready? She had watched too many documentaries about killers to absolve him of all suspicion.

"I don't think you're a psycho, but this is still a weird situation."

"Hold on," said Keith. "Let me grab my phone."

He left the living room, and she peered down the hallway, hoping he didn't come back with a gun. When he showed up with his phone in hand and nothing else. she sighed with relief. Keith had no pockets in his sweatpants to conceal a weapon, and he moved toward the balcony to peer outside as he called the apartment's owners.

"Voicemail," Keith sighed. "Says they're on vacation in Hawaii. Must be nice."

"Yeah, guess so. How convenient."

"Look, I have this place booked for the next week. I don't mind leaving for the night and giving you the space so you can at least rest up. Then tomorrow, we can figure something else out."

"That's not fair," she said. "Plus, if you were going to do anything, you still have the passcode."

"True, I guess. Shit. Well, my initial offer still stands. You can sleep in the bedroom—it's nice, and I barely even touched the bed, so it's not like... dirty, er anything. And um, I'll take the couch."

She giggled. "You're like seven feet tall, and that couch isn't even big enough for me to sleep comfortably."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm adaptable. I grew up in a huge family with limited space. I'm used to squeezing into tight places."

"I don't know, Keith."

"Barricade the door if you want. I promise on my dog's life that I won't do anything to harm you," he held out his phone to show her an image of himself and a golden retriever with its tongue lolling to one side. Keith looked elated in the photo with a wide, toothy grin. She set her bags down.

"The problem is, I booked this place for three days."

"I'll find somewhere else to stay tomorrow. You can have the place. Hell, you can have my whole booking if you want. Stay until the end of the week, on me."

"Then you waste your money," she pointed out.

"That's fine. I can get a credit. I'm sure I can work something out with the booking app. And money isn't a big deal anyway—I mean, it's all good."

She studied him, noting all of his prominent features in case she had to provide a physical description. He was well over six feet, with unruly brown hair, light green eyes, and a half-inch horizontal scar on his cheek. He had no tattoos or other discerning marks, but his strange eyes were enough to set him apart from anyone. Most of his features were remarkable in some way; full, deep pink lips, an upturned nose, a dimple on his chin that only showed when he spoke or smiled. There was no forgetting Keith's face.

"Everything about this is a bad idea, but strangely enough... I trust you. Although, maybe I'm too tired to judge the situation properly."

"You can take a photo of my ID and send it to someone you trust. Does anyone else know you're here? If not, you should give them the address."

"No, nobody knows I'm here, but I'll take you up on your offer."

Keith retrieved his wallet and pulled out his driver's license, library card, gym membership and every other piece of identification he had with his name on it. She chuckled at his rigour and handed him back the cards after she finished snapping shots.

"Your library card expired," she said.

"I guess I should get that renewed, huh?"

"Expired four years ago. You don't do a lot of reading anymore?"

"Oh, I read. I just use a Kindle now. I feel bad about it, though. Kinda miss going to the library every couple of weeks."

"Me too."

Keith presented her with a burrito shop loyalty card. "Take a picture of this one. It's got my phone number on it. That's traceable, right?"

A blush crept over her cheeks. There was still a nugget of worry sinking in her chest, but Keith seemed genuine, and his awkwardness buried her apprehension as they worked out the details of how the night would play out. Keith surrendered the bedroom and helped her move her bags while repeatedly promising there would be no funny business. She accepted, and once she retired behind the master bedroom door, she changed into pyjamas and fell asleep without a moment to decompress from the odd situation in which she had found herself.

The next morning, she dressed and made her way into the kitchen, where Keith was busy flipping bacon and tending a pan of scrambled eggs. When he noticed her, his concentrated face slackened, and he waved with the greasy spatula.

"Morning. I wasn't sure if you were a coffee or a tea person, so I made both."

There was a full French press and a steaming teapot on the table beside a bowl of sliced oranges. She sat down in the warm beam of light shifting in from the window and pretended not to watch the man in the kitchen cooking and whistling like nothing about their encounter was peculiar. He brought her eggs, bacon and toast, then sat across from her, poured himself coffee and dug into his food. She picked up her fork and analyzed the meal before her.

He could poison me. He could drug me and...

"Not hungry?" Keith said.

"Very. It's just..."

"I promise I didn't lace your food with cyanide or anything. Wanna switch plates?"

She laughed as he presented his already half-eaten portions, and he shrugged. "Sorry, I guess I didn't think about how this could be risky."

"Sorry, Keith. I don't want to suspect every little thing could be a trap. It's all the true crime documentaries. You never know."

"I get it. Hey, you don't have to eat. I promise I won't be offended."

She prodded a slice of bacon, decided it was too tempting to ignore any longer, and took a bite. Keith smiled around a mouthful of buttered toast.

"So, what are your plans for the day?" He asked.

"Well, I'm kind of on vacation."

"Kind of?"

"It's a long story."

Keith looked at his watch. "I have time. I have to head out in about an hour for a meeting."

"I just needed to get away, which is why I booked this place for a few days."

"Wouldn't have something to do with the person whose calls you've been dodging?"

She picked at her nails under the table and sighed. "It does."

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me. You have that air of a person on the run from something."

"I do?"

"You have an awful lot of stuff for someone only staying for a few days. I know ladies like to travel heavily, but that suitcase is massive. Also, the phone calls."

"It's that obvious?"

"I can piece it together. And I don't mean to pry, but there's a tan line on your ring finger."

"Okay, detective."

"Sorry. Am I wrong?"

"If only you were."

"Hey," Keith reached across the table and touched her wrist for a second. "It's okay. I'm a safe person to talk to. Or you can tell me to shut the hell up, and I will."

"It's fine. I just didn't think it was so obvious."

"Call me over-observant."

"Well, thanks for being so nice and letting me stay the night. I guess we should discuss what the next move is?"

Keith gulped down his coffee and took his empty plate to the kitchen sink. "How about later? I'm going to hop in the shower and go to my meeting. I'm sure you'd love some time to yourself."

"Sure, I guess."

"Just promise me one thing," Keith said. "You won't just up and leave while I'm gone. Okay?"

"All right."

"Promise?"

"Sure," she laughed.

"Great. So, I'll see you later then?"

"I guess you will."

Keith nodded, and his chin dimple flashed with his smile.

They both made good on their promises; Keith returned after work with four different types of corked wine, and she didn't vacate the apartment. He came back with abundant energy, striding all over the apartment, setting the bottles on the table, and whipping open the curtains. She watched him fluff the couch pillows, retrieve wine goblets and rattle on about how busy the day had been.

"You hungry? Maybe we should order in for dinner. Also, I don't know what wine you prefer, so I bought red, white, rosé and pinot noir. Oh, shit. Are you a chardonnay girl? Shit, I should have gotten some while I was at the store—"

"Keith! It's fine. I don't really drink wine anyway."

He smacked his forehead with a groan. "God, I'm such an idiot. I should have called you before assuming. Wait, I don't even have your phone number. Wow, I'm dropping the ball all kinds of ways."

"I thought we were going to talk about our, um... Temporary living situation?"

"Yeah, we will. I just figured it'd be more pleasant to do so over dinner."

"How about you sit down? Might make talking a little easier."

"Yeah, sure. You're right."

She joined Keith on the sofa, and the proximity made her feel terrible for having made him sleep there the previous night. Guilt crept over her, and she felt like an intruder all over again. Keith assured her that her presence was welcome and offered to buy dinner despite her many attempts at convincing him otherwise. Soon, they were eating Thai food, the subject of one of them leaving the apartment long since forgotten under flowing conversation and laughter. Keith popped open the red wine, and she decided to take a small pour in the heat of the moment.

His charm wore her down throughout the evening, and she decided she wanted neither of them to leave the apartment. Keith returned the sentiment, and they agreed on one more night of him on the sofa and her in the bedroom.

At ten o'clock, after they had showered and mostly sobered up from splitting a whole bottle of wine, she tiptoed into the living room, but Keith was not in sight. She circled the sofa and found him sitting cross-legged on the floor, hands relaxed in his lap, eyes closed, wearing only sweatpants.

"Uh, whatcha doing?"

Ten silent seconds passed before Keith opened one eye. "I'm meditating. You should join me."

"Really?"

"Yes. Come."

She sat across from Keith and mimicked his position. "So, what does this help with?"

Keith drew a long breath through his nose without opening his eyes and expelled it steadily. "Mindfulness. Calmness. Decluttering the brain."

"Okay, what do I do?"

"Close your eyes," he said.

"Done."

"Now, think of nothing."

She nodded, unsure of how to stop thinking. At first, she wondered how silly they must have looked sitting on the floor with their eyes closed, then wondered if this was part of Keith's nightly routine and chuckled at the thought of the man sitting in silence for extended periods. He hushed her, and she bit down on her lip to keep her reactions under control.

"Can I be honest?" She asked. "I don't know how to stop thinking."

"Talking doesn't help. And it's not that you must stop thinking; it's about trying to find your inner quiet. Turning off the voices in your head that feed you lies throughout the day. Those who say you're not good enough, not smart enough, or worthy of love or respect. Purge the junk thoughts. Dismiss the lies you tell yourself. They aren't coping mechanisms, just trash. And breathe deeply through your nose."

She took in a long breath.

"Don't keep it in. Release it. Slow and steady."

Keith grabbed her hands and arranged them palms up on her knees. He held them there and continued his long inhalations until her breaths fell in sync. Her nose made a whistling sound, and they both giggled.

"Clean out the worries. They don't serve you. Recognize the control you have of your life and decisions. You make your own happiness. Concentrate. Breathe. Don't let the pretty girl distract you."

Her eyes popped open while Keith's remained closed. His mouth twitched. He squeezed her hands, urging her to shut her eyes again.

"No distractions."

"Keith."

"No. Distractions."

She had had enough and flipped their hands to pull him closer. The wine still lingered in her blood, and the absurdity of the situation bolstered her bravery enough to kiss him. He smiled against her mouth, released her hands and shuffled his fingers through her hair, clutching her head at the right angle for him to take over when her nerve wavered.

"I said. No. Distractions." Keith kissed her between words, his own claim unconvincing. Her lips were as soft as he imagined, and his chest fluttered. Fated they were to end up like this, he thought to himself. From the moment he saw her asleep on the sofa, he had battled urges to flirt with her. Now, she had come to him, and the room grew hot.

Keith pulled her until the only thing she could do was climb over and settle in his lap with her legs wrapped around him.

She pulled away in mid-kiss, expecting him to flash his silly grin, but his eyes had grown heavy, and his mouth sought hers again. The weight of his desire had squashed all traces of giddiness. They kissed until she felt a twinge between their clothed groins. Finally, Keith looked down, breathless.

"I want to... You know. But I don't want you to feel obligated."

"I don't."

"Like you don't feel obligated or don't want to?"

"I want to, silly."

"Okay," Keith nodded. "Good."

She shimmied off of him, and he climbed onto the sofa backwards to not break eye contact. Once settled, she shifted between his knees and ran her hand over his hardness until he bristled with arousal and his sweatpants did little to conceal him. He blushed as she tugged his waistband and helped her remove the article. He sat naked, legs splayed, wonderment wide in his eyes. There were dozens of things he wanted to say, but before he summoned the courage to speak, she grasped his length, stood it up and licked him from base to tip, stifling all but a long moan. She did this a couple more times, then surrounded the head with her lips.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," said Keith.

She kissed his thigh, his groin, the drop of precum collecting at the tip of his cock, and giggled. "You're beautiful."

He grinned sheepishly and watched with an open jaw as she slathered his length with saliva and made him disappear down her throat a few times. When she came up for air, she pressed her lips to his frenulum and hummed.

"Your cock matches you perfectly. So long and pretty."

"Come on," Keith chuckled, cheeks pink. "I'm not pretty."

"Okay, you're gorgeous then."

"You are."

"And you're so nice. Please tell me nobody out there thinks they're dating you."

"Nobody thinks that. I'm really and truly single. Why else would I be letting you—oh... Oh, wow."

She clouded his thoughts again with one hand surrounding his shaft and the other massaging his balls while she circled her tongue around and around the head.

"For the record, I wasn't being nice hoping to seduce you," Keith said.

"No, you're just very polite, aren't you?"

"Of course."

"Are you gonna come soon?"

"Hell no," Keith sat up and urged her to stand. She shed her clothes, took his hand and climbed over his lap again, knees sinking into the plush cushions. "Oh, yes. Fuck me, pretty girl."

He pressed into her slowly, and she gasped from the sudden fullness. Clinging together, he rocked his hips forward once, letting her get used to the sensation before he settled back, marvelling at the naked body perched atop his. Keith let her find a rhythm, having no complaints about how she wished to move. He gorged on her body and whimpered as she swivelled her hips.

"You look so good riding me."

She accepted the compliment and pressed her arms against her breasts, squeezing them together until he latched onto a nipple. He gripped her hips, stroked down her back and gave her a light spank. When he drew back, his teeth had his bottom lip in a violent hold. She noticed the dimple on his chin, the scar on his cheek, and the eerie green eyes glazed over with lust. Unforgettable features contorted in pleasure, and she felt wanted for the first time in too long.

Keith placed her on all fours and gave a few gentle strokes before he increased his pace. He didn't want her to feel as though he was jabbing her, but a wave of fierce desire spurred him, and he pulled her in to meet his thrusts every time until she gasped.

"Does that hurt, baby?"

"No, it feels amazing."

"Okay, just let me know if I'm doing it too hard."

"You can go harder."

Keith scoffed. "Really? You want it harder?"

"I like it a little rough."

"Wouldn't wanna hurt you, gorgeous."

She twisted around and nodded. "Fuck me real good, pretty boy."

His cock twitched as she turned away and watched their reflection in the balcony window. The mirrored show didn't last long, for Keith flipped her and pressed down with all his weight. His stubble tickled while he kissed and nuzzled her neck and found her opening again. He sank in with a sigh. The lull was short-lived, and soon, he pounded into her with most of his strength. Though she had requested it, he hadn't the heart to make her wince, but what he did give her made the most beautiful sounds leave her lips, and he had to kiss her again.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come soon. I don't wanna make a mess."

"Come inside me," she said.

"You sure?"

"Yes, Keith."

He locked his elbows and closed his eyes, focusing on the tightness surrounding him, the slick noises, the little mewls and whimpers she made. When he looked down at her breasts bouncing from his motions, he groaned and pulled air through his teeth. She was so beautiful the way she looked helpless yet delighted to have him inside her.

"M'gonna come so hard inside that cute little pussy, baby. You ready?"

She nodded, biting her lip.

"Yeah, you like it when strange men fill you full of cum? You like that shit?"

"I love it," she moaned.

"Oh, that's so nasty. Letting someone you don't even know blow inside your slit. Fuck, I don't think I can take it anymore."

True to his word, Keith's muscles flexed, and a shuddering orgasm ripped through his body, spasming in his legs and dripping out of him as he groaned and his eyes rolled. There was no time between him pulling out and forcing her back onto her stomach. He lifted her hips and watched the cum dripping from her hole, making glistening streaks down her thighs. He lapped her clit with a curled tongue as she stuffed her face into the cushion to muffle her moans.

"Now it's your turn to come for me," his breath was hot on her backside, convincing. "I'll lick your pussy until I have you coming on my face."

Keith rubbed his tongue back and forth against her clit while he clutched her open and let the warm fluid flow. What he gathered in his mouth he spat back on her. He growled and nipped her in several places, replacing his tongue with his fingers so he could catch his breath and rearrange her yet again.

On her back, legs spread, Keith gorged on her pussy until her thighs shook, and he had to cover her mouth to ensure the neighbours didn't hear. He nodded, tongue flickering, eyes on her face.

"Come for me. Come on my tongue, baby. Can you do that for me?"

Her response came muffled under his palm, but she nodded and squeezed her eyes shut. He had found the sweet spot, the exact motion needed to make her orgasm, and when she did, her pelvis jostled, and she tried to pull away. But Keith pinned her and didn't stop until she climaxed and came up to another.

"Yeah, come on my face again. Keep coming for me, pretty girl. I want it all."

She lay on the couch, ears ringing and heart thumping as she gasped for breath. By the time Keith released her, she had lost count of how many times the unbearable wave of pleasure had come and gone. Keith offered his hand, and she took it, unsure of what might happen next. He led her to the washroom and motioned her to enter.

"Go pee, and then meet me in the bedroom."

"I... can't keep going."

Keith kissed her on the cheek, chuckling. "I know, sweet thing. I'm not gonna fuck you anymore. It's time for bed. But you should pee first. It's important."

"Oh," she said dazedly. "Right."

She did as suggested and met Keith in the bedroom, where he was already in his boxers and under the covers. He drew back the corner of the duvet and patted the mattress. Once under the covers, they snuggled up close, their noses an inch apart. He kissed her forehead and sighed.

"I just wanted to say... I don't normally do this kind of thing. It goes against what I believe in," said Keith.

"What do you mean? Were you saving yourself for marriage?"

"No, silly. I'm not really a one-night stand person. I don't usually have sex with girls I just met. So, this is a bit strange for me."

"Are you saying you want to do it again?"

"It's not that simple. Of course, I'd like to do it again. I just hope this wasn't a one-off thing for you. I mean, if it is, I'll respect that, but... I don't know. I like you, and when this week is over, I'd like to keep seeing you."

"My life is very complicated at the moment," she admitted. "I want to see you again—I mean keep seeing you—it's just that I'll be going through some big changes."

"That's fine. I'll be here for you."

"Thank you," she whispered.

Keith kissed her and tucked her head under his chin. She pressed her face into his chest and tried not to think about how odd it was to feel this way about someone she had just met. But there was something special about Keith. He was warm and welcoming, and she needed warmth now more than ever.

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