When Starsky and Hutch need a little more lubrication to get things to slide.
Double drabble– prompt words jam and toast.
“It’s jammed in there really tight, Starsk.” Hutch grimaced, trying to twist enough to loosen it up.
“Just a little to the left?” Starsky gasped, wiggling his hips to try and coordinate his movements with Hutch’s. He brought both arms up to grab Hutch’s shoulders for leverage.
“I can’t…” Hutch took a deep breath, glancing into Starsky’s eyes. “Maybe a little more lubrication?”
“Yeah!” Starsky craned his neck, seeing the desired bottle. “Can you reach it?”
“Not with the two of us so close together.” Sliding sideways a little, Hutch felt things shift and turn. “You doing okay like this?” He cupped Starsky’s hand, pulling it to one side and slightly underneath.
Starsky closed his fingers around the shaft, trying to dislodge it without injuring himself. “Grab it while you can! This is awkward, but I’ve just about got it!”
Hutch grabbed the slippery stuff, applying it liberally. Starsky cried out with excitement, his muscles cramping when he was suddenly able to move it. Fluid gushed out when he let go, splattering them both.
“Damn.” Hutch sat back, Starsky abruptly in his arms. “Starsky, that pipe is toast, we’ll need to call a real plumber.”
Laughing, Starsky grabbed the telephone.
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