Andrew opened his dressing room door and raised his eyebrows when he saw Jack lounging across the sofa, totally naked aside from a pair of white briefs. "What are you doing?" he asked, rolling his eyes.
Jack grinned. "I'm lying on your sofa."
"Why the fuck are you doing that?" Andrew asked, not as surprised as he would have been a few years ago, but still slightly taken aback.
"I met Michael Vaughan at the weekend," Jack said.
"So, he told me a couple of stories from back in the day," Jack replied and Andrew could swear his grin was getting wider by the second if that was even possible. "Turns out cricket isn't quite as boring as I first thought."
"What did he say?"
"He said it's all about having a very big, hard piece of wood and wearing whites." Jack gestured to his underwear. "And he said it's all about drilling the ball down the ground. So, I was hoping that rather than drilling a ball down the ground, you could drill me instead."
Andrew stared at him, saying nothing.
"Come on, Flintoff. Why have you fucked Michael and not me? I'm offering myself to you here, just come and get it."
Andrew began to grin, laughing as he pulled his shirt off. "Are you serious?"
"Of course I'm fucking serious!" Jack said, almost sounding outraged his friend didn't believe him. "I bought these bits of cotton for this very occasion. They're previously unworn, you know."
Andrew undressed, and watched Jack swallow as he looked up at his body. He began to walk towards the comedian, his cock hardening as his eyes drifted over Jack's body. He hooked his fingers in Jack's underwear, pulling them down in one quick motion, before pushing Jack into the sofa and straddling his hips.
Jack made a soft noise, grinding his hips into the sofa. Andrew leant down and bit Jack's neck. "You're not going to walk straight at the end of this," he growled.
"That's the plan," Jack grinned, turning his head to capture Andrew's mouth in a hard kiss.