Jackson remains quiet for a moment, eyes trailing over the expanse of Mark's chest, silently contemplating something. He reaches up and pinches the material of the elder's shirt between his index finger and thumb. "Is this cotton?"

What is Jackson getting up to now? Mark tilts his head in confusion. "Yes?"

"Oh," Jackson slides his hand down Mark's chest and rests it on the elder's crotch. "Then this must be felt."

Mark blinks in surprise. "Why it is, actually. I got them on a sale last Saturday. I wasn't really sure if they would match anything in my closet, but now that I'm wearing them they don't seem that bad, do they?"

"Seriously? They're perfect." Jackson's eyes light up in delight. "Where did you buy them? I've been looking for something like this forever but they're impossible to find."

"At the flea market at the square round the corner." Mark does a 360-degree turn to better showcase his pants, satisfied with the envious gazes he's garnering from Jackson. It isn't everyday the self-proclaimed most fashionable member of the group gets jealous over another member's fashion items and boy, is it fun to rile the younger up.

Mark inwardly pats himself on the back for a job well done.