Summary: Macao and Wakaba have never been professional, so why start now?
Pairings: Some parental Macao/Romeo (though it's questionable to who the parent is) and some Macao/Wakaba friendship.
YouTube Prompt: Crack video with any two male characters to 'If You Were Gay' from the Musical Avenue Q.
Macao and Wakaba reluctantly made their way into town to meet with the Mayor after a gruelling six hour train journey that they couldn't smoke or drink on. They very rarely took jobs, especially jobs outside of Magnolia, after all they were lazy old gits who much preferred chilling in the guild, drink merrily, smoke lots, and wind up all the youngsters with a perverted commentary on all their activities.
But they had no choice this time round.
Apart from the fact they were strapped for cash and Wakaba's wife wasn't letting him come home until he brought back some money, Romeo wasn't giving them a choice this week. He had literally picked a job of the request board (something about fighting a monster), shoved it in Macao's hand, before he then pushed him out of the guild building and got Mira to lock the doors on him.
Sometimes Macao wondered exactly who was the parent in this family.
Macao shook his head, and focused at the task at hand. Information gathering so he knew what exactly what he had to do. They were greeted warmly by the Mayor's secretary and were then instantly ushered into the office in which a thin, balding, man in a suit rushed round his desk to greet them.
"Hello Fairy Tail," he shook Macao and Wakaba's hands. "I'm so pleased to see you. My name is Mr Abrahall, and-"
"A Bra Hall!" Wakaba cried out, his cigar dropped out of his mouth. "Where?!"
"My God," Macao tried to keep the dribble of blood from running down his nose, "is it literally filled to the brim with bras?"
Mr Abrahall blinked. "I beg your pardon?" he asked bewilderedly.
"You just said there was a Bra Hall."
"No I didn't," Mr Abrahall said slowly, "I said my name is Mr Abrahall. Abrahall not a Bra Hall."
"What sort of bras do you collect?" Wakaba smirked. "I like lacy ones in exotic colours. They're really sexy."
"Never mind that," Macao elbowed Wakaba, "the better question is where all the bra-less ladies that he took them from are?" he drooled at the thought of all those breasts – err, he means ladies, yes the ladies themselves not their body parts. That would be weird. "And everyone knows that black in any form, lace, leather, or satin, is sexier."
"I don't know," Wakaba shrugged, "there's something really risqué about white lace."
"Only if you have weird virgin fantasies, nah," Macao shook his head, "you had it better the first time round. Exotic colours, with lace, and maybe a teeny tiny bow in the middle to draw your eyes in." he then turned to face the mayor. "What do you prefer? Or do you just collect any old bra?"
"…..I think you should leave now."
"….And that's why," Macao concluded his story seven hours later, "I am home a week earlier than planned. What's for dinner?"
"Oh Jeeze," Romeo face-palmed, "and this is why I'm the breadwinner of this household."