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By the time it starts raining, Bob and Linda are already too drunk to care.
“Ah!” Linda squeals, delighted by the unexpected drizzle of cold water. “Bobby, do you feel that?”
Bob laughs. Bathed in the glow of a streetlight, Linda looks happier than most people would be while getting drenched.
“Did you just ask if I feel the rain, Lin? Of course I feel it. It’s all over us.”
His words get truer by the second, the rain picking up speed with each passing moment. It pelts them hard, water droplets collecting on Linda’s glasses and obscuring her vision.
“Uh-oh!” She exclaims, hands fumbling as she tries to clean the lenses. “Bobby, don’t let me fall!”
Bob nods, assuring her he won’t. As their taxi pulls up to the curb, he wraps an arm around his wife’s waist to help her inside. Once in the cab, the heat flows pleasantly over their chilly skin.
“It’s…uh…Ocean Avenue.” He tells the driver, some vague societal pressure compelling him to act as sober as he can manage.
“The place is called Bob’s Burgers!” Linda blurts out. “We own it. My husband’s a chef! This is my husband. Tell him about your burgers, Bobby!”
Sheepish at the effusive praise, Bob catches the driver’s gaze in the rearview mirror and offers an apologetic smile. Linda reaches for her glasses, but her motor skills are just shaky enough that she ends up pawing blindly at her face instead.
“Lin, let me.” Bob says, carefully removing Linda’s glasses and wiping the water off with his shirt.
Linda sighs gratefully as he perches them back on her nose, wrapping both hands around his arm in a loving vice grip.
“Isn’t this just the best night ever?” She practically swoons, leaning against his shoulder.
Bob smiles. They’d spent a few hours (and way too much money) at one of Linda’s favorite bars. She even cajoled him into dancing when the jukebox came on, the two of them spinning in circles until the liquor they’d downed couldn’t take any more motion.
“It was pretty nice.” He admits, though he’d initially been hesitant to come out tonight.
They’re the (mostly) proud parents of three children under the age of ten, and each of their kids have been known to cause even the most seasoned babysitters a fair bit of stress.
“It was really nice!” Linda insists. “The perfect night. Just like a fairytale.”
Her hair is wet and stringy, and Bob gently tucks a frizzy tendril behind her ear.
“Like a fairytale.” He agrees, thinking more about the current moment than the night’s earlier activities. “If there was a fairytale about a guy who couldn’t get his wife to stop doing karaoke.”
Linda closes her eyes, humming contentedly, as Bob tucks another loose strand of hair into place. Outside, he can hear the steady patter of rain against the car windows.
He’s reached the ideal level of intoxication—he feels cheerful but not nauseous, carefree but not too drunk to be a responsible parent should the moment call for it. It’s all very relaxing.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Linda asks.
Linda’s alcohol levels are tougher to gauge. She’d eagerly demolished a screwdriver early on in the night, but she complained that the drink tasted strongly of orange juice and not much else. After that, she’d happily sipped on a pina colada and…Bob wracks his brain but comes up empty. At a certain point, he’d stopped monitoring how much his wife was spending and started focusing only on the sound of her boisterous laugh.
“Probably.” He says, imagining the soft bed waiting for them at home. “I can’t wait to—“
“We gotta have sex in this cab.”
The words fall easily out of Linda’s mouth, so easily that they sound perfectly sensical to Bob’s drunk mind. He nods, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial whisper.
“Oh my God. You’re so smart, Lin. We should definitely have sex in this cab. How did I not think of that?”
Were he not drunk, or even if his last drink had been made with vodka instead of the notoriously disorienting tequila, he’d have shut the idea down before it even left Linda’s lips.
Linda giggles, visibly tickled by the outlandishness of her own idea. Bob follows her lead, laughing less at the suggestion and more at his ridiculous, ever-scheming wife.
“You think he'd notice if we got naked?” Linda asks, words slightly slurred. “No, right? We’ll be really quiet about it!”
As she reaches to unzip her dress, Bob forces himself to find some semblance of rational thought. He takes her hand, pulling her close to whisper again.
“Clothes stay on.” He says firmly. “We’ll…um. Wait, give me a second to think.”
His hand is on her thigh now, but his brain is taking extra time to catch up. It moves sluggishly, bogged down by alcohol, and lights up when the thought solidifies.
“Let’s just make out!” He says, whispering ecstatically. “We love making out.”
Linda’s thrilled cackle ricochets through the car. Bob grins, falling into the nape of her neck, and breathes in her scent. It’s quintessentially Linda, a comforting blend of lavender lotion and baby powder that he’s never experienced anywhere else. There’s also the faint smell of booze, but the Linda-ness overpowers that by a mile.
“ You’re a genius, Bobby!” She whispers, awe at his intellect seeping into her voice.
Bob nods. Before Linda, he didn’t know it was possible to feel this smart or sexy, but it’s impossible not to get an ego boost from her undistilled excitement about all things Bobby related.
She holds his face gently for a second, catching him off guard with a kiss while he’s distracted thinking about how pretty she is. He kisses back lazily, too sleepy and content to worry about perfect form.
“This is so nice.” Linda whispers.
Her voice is soft, vulnerable— like she’d almost forgotten how good slow kisses could feel. Lately, when they do make time to mess around, it’s usually done in a hurry. There are always kids waiting for attention and burgers waiting to be made.
“This is nice. Really nice.” Bob agrees.
A few minutes ago, he thought making out in a semi-public place would feel electric. He’d been expecting a mix of arousal and jumpiness, turned on by the risk but a little scared of it, too.
Instead, their location becomes immaterial almost immediately. Linda’s lips are on his, and his brain is fuzzy with alcohol. All he can feel, taste, or smell is her. They could be at home in their bed or miles away on a tropical vacation for all the setting matters.
As her tongue slips inside his mouth, any hope of keeping his composure goes out the window. Bob moans aloud, not realizing how much he missed kissing her like this until the moment was in his grasp. Now that it’s here he’s desperate to keep it, his hands tangling through Linda’s hair like the desperation in his touch will make the ride to their apartment slower.
Outside, he can still hear the gentle patter of rain. It feels as though it’s there just for them, falling in this soothing, steadfast way so it can serve as background noise for their tryst. Bob grins into Linda’s mouth, picturing how soaked they’ll be by the time they get inside.
He thinks about the two of them giggling as they navigate their way up their stairs, shushing each other so the kids don’t wake up. He thinks about finding their way to the shower, warm water washing over them and cancelling out the cold rain still lingering on their skin.
Never one to miss out on a joke, Linda pulls away and cocks her head to the side. Mouth now free, Bob giggles at the image in his head.
“What’s so funny, mister?” She stage-whispers, voice certainly not quiet enough to keep their driver from hearing.
“Mm. Sorry.” Bob says, staring at her lips and wondering why they aren’t on his. “I was thinking about us in the shower.”
Linda’s smile gets impossibly wider.
“Ooh! Tonight? Oh, Bobby, that sounds amazing! You can wash my hair.”
Not willing to dull her joy even for a second, Bob doesn’t mention that he doesn’t think he’s fit to be a diligent hair washer tonight. Judging by the fact that he’s lost all sense of time, his drinks must have been stronger than he thought.
“Mmhm.” He says, prepared to agree to anything if it’ll make her start kissing him again.
Linda must feel his impatience, because she slams their mouths together in another passionate kiss. Bob eagerly reciprocates, their tongues mingling so clumsily that you’d think it was their first time kissing.
“We’re doing such a good job at this.” Bob says, words slurring in his rush to give them undue praise.
“I know, right? We’re like…professionals! Professional kissers. Muah!”
Before Bob can even think about forming a response, they’re kissing again and his mind is peacefully blank. Where there’s usually a bottomless pit of anxious thoughts, right now there’s nothing but mind-numbing warmth.
He touches Linda’s chest through her dress, only remembering at the last second that he can’t take her clothes off right here and now. Not that Linda would mind—she’d probably love it. She reaches for the bulge in his pants, and Bob nearly jumps out of his skin.
He quickly reels himself in, moaning softly at Linda’s touch but not completely losing control over it. Even the brief involuntary sound embarrasses him, and he prays the driver is too used to drunk, clingy couples to pay them any mind.
Linda’s lips trail down his neck, and he can’t help but sigh at the teasing sensation. He wants her to climb on his lap, straddling him the way she would if they were at home, but he’s not quite drunk enough to disregard passenger safety laws.
“I….”
Bob loses his words in another kiss, thoughts blurring into nothing as she sucks on his lower lip. Linda practically is in his lap now, pushed so far onto his side of the backseat that her seatbelt is stretched taut.
“Love you too.” She mumbles, the words coming out in a rush.
Vaguely, Bob is aware of the soft, romantic R&B song pouring through the car’s speakers. In his drunken state, he imagines the melody is ebbing and flowing with their movements, reaching a crescendo only when things get particularly heated between them. Linda pulls back, eyes lighting up, and beams at her husband.
“I love this song!” She announces. “This is the best date ever.”
Bob nods. He can’t focus enough to remember any other date they’ve ever been on, but the current moment feels pretty hard to beat.
“Definitely. Best date ever.” He agrees.
Linda continues rubbing at his bulge, only letting go when he grabs her wrist. Two can play at that game. He thinks, slipping a hand under Linda’s dress and finding her panties.
He traces a finger over her pussy, relishing in the way she shudders against him. He hears her whine in his ear, a soft version of his name too faint and too intimate for the driver to hear. He pulls her underwear to the side, ready to provoke another sound, but a noise stops him at the last second.
Bob is startled by the sound of a man clearing his throat. He glances up to meet eyes with the cab driver, who looks unfazed by the over-the-top moaning he’s been forced to listen to for the last twenty minutes. Bob turns red, swiftly removing his hand from beneath his wife’s dress.
“We’re here.” The driver announces simply.
Bob blinks, experiencing the confusion of waking up from an unexpectedly long nap. Linda seems somehow more aware of their surroundings, and she snatches her purse up before opening the door.
“Thank you!” She says brightly. “I promise we didn’t do anything too bad. Just first base! Maybe second. Sorry. That basketball stuff always confuses me. But anyway, thank you! Love your music choices, by the way. So retro! Goodnight!
By the time she finishes her rambling, Bob is still glancing around in confusion. Was the drive really over ? Just like that? Linda grabs his wrist, pulling him toward her, and he wakes up enough to stumble his way out of the car and into the street.
“Uh…sorry. About all that. The…well, you know.” Bob says, tossing the apology over his shoulder at the still unbothered driver.
Once back on their familiar street, Bob starts to feel less like he’s sleepwalking. He looks at their restaurant and then up at a glowing streetlight. His heart leaps, remembering that he’s only a few minutes away from looking in on his sleeping kids.
Linda links their arms together, waving at the Ferris wheel down the street with no concern at all for the fact that it’s raining.
“Goodnight Wonder Wharf!” She calls cheerfully, as their taxi drives away. “Goodnight beach!”
Bob pats her arm, a gentle way of getting her to quiet down. They make their way to the sidewalk, the rain nothing more than a light mist now. Bob stares down at Linda, her glasses once again becoming blurred by the pouring water. He removes them, dutifully wiping them off, and makes sure their arms stay linked as they head for the door.
As they reach it, Bob realizes how reluctant he is to go inside. It’s a surprising feeling, considering how cute his kids look when they’re sleeping and how much he loves climbing into bed.
He turns to Linda, pressing a kiss to her head. Cold rain brushes his face, so light now that it almost feels like a breeze. Linda seems to understand implicitly that Bob will miss their alone time when it’s gone.
She rests her head on his chest, and he can feel her breathing in his scent. He can’t imagine it's good— likely a blend of sweat and liquor—but Linda has no problem seeing past that.
“I had fun tonight.” She tells him, looking up with flattened hair and big, earnest eyes.
“Me too, Lin.” Bob says.
Linda runs her hands over his messy hair, trying in vain to tame the damp strands into something presentable. They both laugh when she fails, and Bob finally decides to go fishing in his pocket for keys.
“Are we still on for that shower?” Linda asks. “Cause you kinda need it, sweetie. No offense, but rain isn’t enough to get the smell of that bar off of ya.”
Bob sniffs himself inconspicuously. Sure enough, an underlying scent of cigarette smoke has somehow seeped into his coat. He wrinkles his nose, unlocking the door and holding it open for Linda.
“It’s not just me, Lin.” He reminds her. “Remember the beer you spilled on your dress? That was like…two hours ago. Or, I don’t know. What time is it now?”
Linda ignores his question, staring instead at the small beer stain soaked into her dress.
“…oh yeah.” She says. “Ew. We stink! We really do need a shower, Bobby. A real one! With shampoo and everything.”
They bring their voices down as they walk up the stairs, careful not to wake the children fast asleep in their bedrooms. Bob guides Linda with a hand on the small of her back, not quite trusting her to stumble toward the living room in one piece.
“I’ll wash your hair if you wash mine.” He promises.
“Yay! I mean…yay.” Linda speaks too loudly at first, quickly correcting by softening her voice again. “Thanks for taking me out on the town, Bobby.”
He smiles. Going out is decidedly not his thing, but Linda has a talent for making everything fun.
“Of course. Want to do it again in…four months? Or whenever we can afford the babysitter?”
Linda grins, her eyes already glinting with ideas for their next date night.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Bobby.”