"Where are we going?" asked Simon.
"Let's head to Oxford Street" said Andy.
"Nah. Too many pigs around there during the day wanting to know why we're not in school. Let's go to the East End. We'll get the bus to Liverpool Street and grab a train."
With that, they left the flat and headed for the lift. Immediately he started walking Simon was aware that the tracksuit was making a lot of noise; with every step the material on each leg rubbed against itself creating a `swishing' sound as he walked. If he took his hands out of his pockets, then the arms also joined in; his cock had been hard for what seemed like the whole day by this stage and it did not show any signs of going down any time soon. In fact, walking behind Dale who was positively shining in his red Lacoste tracksuit and Andy, whose tracksuit bottoms definitely revealed at least part of the outline of his boxers, Simon could not see how he would not be aroused for the entire day. He stopped to light a cigarette, and then half ran to catch up with Dale and Andy. Of course, when he ran the tracksuit made even more noise, which only served to turn him on even more!
Dale and Andy turned round to see Simon, slightly out of breath, smoking his cigarette as he caught up.
"Good idea" said Dale and pulled out his pack of Mayfair, offering one to Andy.
"Don't mind if I do"
Dale lit them both with his Zippo and they started walking again. The courtyard in the estate was quiet as it was during the day. A couple of mothers were out walking with their prams, but there was no sign of any of the youths which Simon had seen last time.
"I need to pick up some more blow" said Dale. He took out his mobile and dialled a number.
"Yeah mate, just a Henry today. Can you tick it? Still waiting on some cash. Yeah, no worries, cheers mate." Dale put the phone back in his pocket. "I'm going to meet him in C block. Be about 10 minutes. You guys can wait by the park."
"Ok" said Simon and Andy almost simultaneously, looked at each other and laughed.
They sat on the swings; Simon watched Dale walking off towards a corner of the park. At one point, he walked through a flash of sunlight and his red Lacoste tracksuit almost glowed in the intense light.
"That's a cool tracksuit" said Andy.
"It's very noticeable!" replied Simon.
"That's the point. When you wear this gear it's about being noticed. People think we all dress the same and copy each other, but it's not about that. We wear shit because it'll make us get noticed. Look at Dale's gear: that tracksuit costs £160 brand new"
Simon nearly fell off the swing in shock.
"Fucking hell!"
"Yeah. And he has a few Lacoste tracksuits as well. Lacoste will always get you noticed. Other tracksuits are about the colours and the way you wear `em. Hooded gear is good. Wearing the hood up is cool because it's about the style; it doesn't just hide your face, but there are different ways of wearing it. You can wear it over a cap, over a scarf, or even wear it over only half of your head. The trick is to set a new style; if people copy your style then it's cool."
Simon was listening intently to every word. He decided to try it out; he reached over to his hood, and pulled it up over his head, making sure to cover only half his head.
"That's almost it. You need to tighten the drawstring a bit though." Andy reached over and altered the hood slightly, then tightened the drawstrings so that it remained in place. The sight of Andy reaching over him and almost dressing him nearly sent Simon's cock over the edge; precum was oozing from his cock and he could feel the area around his balls becoming sticky. Andy's puffa body- warmer rubbed against his tracksuit making the familiar sound of nylon rubbing against itself.
To compose himself, Simon reached into his tracksuit pocket and pulled out his pack of Marlboro. He took one for himself, and offered the pack to Andy.
"Marlboro reds huh? Proper man's cigarettes" joked Andy.
He lit his cigarette, and then offered the light to Simon. Andy took a cheek-hollowing drag from his cigarette, inhaled deeply, and then took another hard drag, drawing the smoke deep into his lungs for several seconds before exhaling.
"Definitely the strongest fags" he said, wisps of smoke escaping from his nose and mouth as he spoke. He took another deep drag.
"How long have you been smoking for?" asked Simon.
"Since I was about 9. I used to steal fags from my mum. She never noticed; always had loads of packs around the house." As if to prove the longevity of his habit, at this point Andy coughed; a really deep phlegmy cough which seemed to emanate from the bottom of his lungs. Eventually, he hacked up a piece of phlegm and spat it onto the floor.
"I hate it when can't get it clear! You know when you cough and sometimes it feels as if you can't free the phlegm?"
Simon had yet to experience this but, judging by how long Andy had been smoking coupled with the pot and the buckets he wasn't surprised at his coughing exploits. He watched Andy as he smoked his cigarette; every drag he took was like a caress – he almost kissed the cigarette into his mouth, swallowing nearly the entire filter in the process. On removing the cigarette from his mouth he inhaled sharply, drawing the smoke deeply into his lungs where it lingered for a few seconds before he exhaled a large cone of smoke. Simon was a more relaxed smoker; he took shorter drags and didn't inhale so deep, but he wanted to try Andy's technique. He also took a long, hard drag on his cigarette, and inhaled the smoke deep into his lungs, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling. His reward was a slight feeling of light-headedness just like after the first cigarette of the day. He hadn't noticed Andy observing him during this time.
"Damn! It looked like you were making love to that fag mate!"
"Just trying to get a decent drag. Once you get used to the strength they don't seem strong enough anymore." Boasted Simon.
"I know what you mean. Hey, you're pretty cool mate; I always thought you were one of the geeky kids with no life, but you're sound."
"I like to have some fun as well. How come I haven't seen you around at school very much?"
"I don't go that often; can't be fucked. I'm failing pretty much everything anyway, so it don't seem worth it. Besides, I'm suspended at the moment; I was caught smoking a spliff in the toilets. Nearly got fucking expelled for that!"
Simon looked at this bad lad, wearing his white trackies, yellow hoody and navy body-warmer with a New York cap to top it off. He looked the part as a scally, and his behaviour certainly seemed to fit the part, but Simon couldn't help but think he was actually a nice guy; a little rough, certainly, but from talking to him he thought that he could certainly be a friend. Of course, he'd like him to be more than a friend: a very close friend, or even better would be great!
"What's your moby number?" asked Andy.
Simon read out his number and Andy sent him a text. "Ok, that's my number."
They smoked in silence for a couple of minutes.
"That's a sweet trackie you're wearing there mate." Said Andy. "I always liked that one on Dale."
Simon was shocked. He was unsure how to respond to his; was Andy saying he liked the look of Dale in his tracksuit?
"You look surprised." Said Andy, looking at Simon. "Aint a guy allowed to admire another guy's clothes?"
"I guess so." Stammered Simon
"I just think that tracksuit looks hot on you; you got the look just right with the red hoody underneath. If you had a cap or beanie then it would look well hot."
"Thanks. I've never really worn shit like this before."
"You should. It really suits you."
Just then, Dale emerged from the corner of the park.
"Sorted." He said. "Got something else for laters as well."
Simon was intrigued, but didn't press Dale for details as he was busy trying to tuck his cock back into his boxers without anyone noticing. His conversation with Andy had almost pushed him over the edge. Was Andy gay? Surely a scally like him hated gays?
With that they headed out of the estate towards the main road...