Word count: 206
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Mark loved to randomly dance from time to time when out on the streets. Not like the way he did in their practice room but dancing nonetheless. Sometimes it didn't go as planned.
When he'd done a split to impress his fans, his pants failed him. It didn't sound a lot and he doubted someone noticed except for himself. His pants somehow ripped at his backside and he had been careful when backing away.
"Are you alright?", Jackson asked him. Mark was blushing furiously.
"What?", Jackson asked and was getting nervous. Why was Mark blushing.
"Ehm, my, uhm...my pants ripped."
Jackson looked at him for two seconds before doubling over laughing. When he came up for air his eyes were filled with tears from laughing too hard.
"It's not funny! There's a hole at my ."
"Good thing I refuse to let people stare at that."
Jackson took off his jacket and wrapped it around Mark's waist to cover it. Due to the jacket being plaid it only looked fashionable together with Mark's pitch black clothes.
"And the fashion king did it again!"
Mark smiled.
"Thank you."
"Anything for you sweetie. Now, we should reunite with the others before the fans start questioning why we're alone."

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