The Traded Pants (It's confusing)

Okay here it goes. I knew this dude; he had dirty blond hair, a little curly at the ends. Somehow I knew him, he said.
“I like your pants.” I looked.
“I like your pants.” I told him, he looked at me and said.
“We should trade pants.” I agreed, but they were the same color and same kind of skinny jeans. We didn’t go into separate rooms. It took him 10 minutes to get his skinnies off; he finally did. I got where he couldn’t see my lower half, and pulled mine off in a flash. He looked at me.
“Nice legs.” He said, I just looked at him, the reason we traded pants was because — our fit each other’s better. And then the woods caught on fire, and I had to put a cheat code in so I could flip the house back to normal.
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This are dreams journal just so you know, I find my confusing and atypical