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    Summary

    “You know he came with us right?” Zayn rolls his eyes, gestures to his own costume, his loose khaki bell bottoms. “We’re the Mystery Incorporated. You’re literally standing there in a fucking Scooby Doo onesie. Harry begged to be Daphne and even bullied Liam to at least wear the fucking turtle neck. It’s obvious he came with the group. He’s part of the group!”

    “He came with Niall.” Louis corrects, tugging a little on the zipper of his outfit, tugging it up and then down, peeking at his tattooed chest piece, the small patch of hair between his pecks. Zayn watches him do it, licks over his bottom lip slowly but surprisingly doesn't reach out to touch. “And only because we need to win the costume contest to pay off Liam’s fine. Which, might I add, is entirely his own fault. We’re just charitable friends.”

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