Chapter Text
Between the two of them, Polyurethane tends to be a bit more honest when expressing his feelings.
Hold up, don't go, just wait a minute, give him a sec! Polyester’s cooking, he swears. It’s not like he’s making this observation without nuance. Listen to him carefully - his younger brother is merely more honest. He’s not saying his brother knows what his feelings are, much less that he’s capable of verbalizing them aloud. What he is saying is that he’s better at forgoing any obfuscating veneers about things, that’s all.
Now, Polyester is aware that most people don’t actually know this. They are always together, and they tend to voice similar comments and critiques and thoughts and feelings and whatever else there is - and therefore it’s no surprise that people think they’re interchangeable. However, (and it bears repeating for the folks in the back) the point still stands: his brother truly is, and is most staunchly so, more honest than he.
So when Polyurethane expresses doubt one day while walking down the halls of Heaven’s Office of Ethics, it gives Polyester pause.
“We’re fam for real for real, right?”
Polyester glances over at his twin. Polyurethane keeps his hands folded behind his head, attempting a casual demeanor despite wearing a scowl on his face.
Ahhh. He knows what this is about. A grin breaks over Polyester’s face, and he nudges Polyurethane with an elbow. “Duhhh, obviously. We’re his kids. Dad’s just got, like, a weird way of showing love. Not everyone gets it, but if you know, you know.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “True enough, bro.”
Still, he doesn’t look convinced, and so Polyester takes a minute to choose his next words. “Don’t worry about it, Polyurethane. There’s always a reason behind the grind, you know that. Say, how about I make your favorite for dinner tonight? Spicy hot chicken - it’s been a while since we’ve let loose and ate some junk.”
“Deadass?!” Polyurethane removes his hands from his head to clasp them in front, eyes sparkling. “You serious?! You’ll make it extra spicy, right? Carolina reaper hot?”
Polyester winces a little inside. Truth be told, he’s not the spice fanatic that his brother is, but what can he do? “Sure thing, bro.”
“Yes! And can we-”
“Polyester.”
Both boys snap to attention, heels clicking together as they stand ramrod straight. Down the hall, His Highness waits by a door. His eyes sweep over them, pausing briefly on Polyurethane’s profile before fixing on Polyester.
“In my office. Alone.”
“Yessir!”
Another stare, and then His Highness enters the room first, letting the door fall shut.
Both boys inadvertently release a breath.
“Well, that’s my cue,” says Polyester.
“It’s always you,” Polyurethane complains. He pauses, the frown on his face persisting for a little too long. “Hey, if His Highness is-”
“It’ll be fine. I’m sure he just wants to brief me on our next mission.” He grasps his brother’s hand, gloved fingers tightening around his rough, calloused palm. “Believe me, bro. There’s nothing to stress about. We’re the perfect duo n’ all.”
Polyester doesn’t miss the dark flicker in his brother’s eyes, something that might be approaching skepticism, or, worse than that, disappointment - but the emotion is gone quickly, smoothed over by tranquil and trusting teal. “Yeah. Course we are.”
He brings his other hand up to ruffle pink strands. That does the trick - Polyurethane whines, and Polyester laughs in response before slipping free of their grasp. “You get the groceries, I’ll come back to cook?”
The mention of dinner brings a grin back to his brother’s face. “Bet! See ya later tonight!”
Such cheer is immediately sobered by entering His Highness’ office. Polyester makes sure that the door closes quietly behind him before approaching and taking a knee, shuddering when he touches the floor. The air here has always been cold, kinda like ice (despite Heaven’s ambient temperatures). Seriously, the frigidness is sooo uncomfortable, and it’s far too similar to the thin atmospheres of Earth, even down to the tiny crystals that percolate into his lungs.
His Highness’ voice is low, gravely, and so very different from the boisterous and bumbling uncle he presents himself as in public. “Polyurethane is having complaints, I see. Is there something you wish to tell me as well?”
Polyester keeps his eyes anchored to the ground. Of course his brother would have complaints - their birthday had just passed. “No, your Highness. We’re taking care of ourselves just fine.”
“You may forgo formality for now. Raise your head and look at me, my son. Is there really nothing you’d like to say?”
He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Forgo formality? Who is he kidding? How could he treat His Highness as casually as he does his brother? However, a command is a command, and he lifts his head with a smile fixed in place. “It’s all good, your Highness. We’ve been chillin’, no prob.”
They regard each other thus for a little while longer - Polyester, still kneeling on the ground, His Highness, still seated in his chair. A beat passes, and then His Highness sighs, fingers pinching the high bridge of his nose. “I turn my back for a second, and he’s entered his rebellious phase. Pierced ears? Black nails? Wearing black at all, when I raised you to carry the dignity of angels. If I’m not more strict on him, I fear he’ll turn out as morally bankrupt as that idiot brother of mine. That man’s charges, too - how many years has it been since they’ve been banished to Earth? With still nothing to show that they’ve reflected on their behavior.” A pause. “Heaven has already become far too disorderly for me to worry about your brother. If only he were more obedient like you.”
“Please rest assur-” He clears his throat to rid himself of his overly formal tone. “It’s nothing to worry about, your Highness. Polyurethane’s just been interested in fashion recently. Highkey, there’s no one more dedicated to your cause than him.”
“Oh?” His Highness arches a brow. “Even more than you?”
Polyester keeps smiling, though he feels a drop of sweat bead on his temple. He’s said what he’s said. Despite Polyurethane’s so-called “rebellious” streak, he knows that his brother is far more dogmatic, far more zealous about their father’s values than himself. “He’s a certified bussin’ enforcer. Eats and leaves no crumbs.”
His Highness once again gives a prolonged stare, then eventually sighs. “Go and fulfill my bidding, my son.”
“Yes!”
The door opens, the door shuts. The air of the hall is instantly much warmer.
Polyester breathes deeply, defrosting the chill in his lungs while resting a hand over his chest. Beneath his palm, he can feel the faint beat of his heart, the nervous fluttering of a butterfly’s wings. Solo meetings with dad are always a bit spooky, but, if he’s being honest…
A small grin worms its way onto his face. They’re spooky, yeah, but he kinda likes getting called out. It’s the only time they ever really get to interact, and, like, that was almost some praise, yeah?! Okay, not exactly, and it was sorta backhanded, but it was implied right? Hahaha, he feels like he can definitely do his best for the rest of the day!
Hm… dad sure did seem upset by Uncle Liniere and his kids though. Maybe if he and Polyurethane head down to Earth to punish the sisters, that’ll pick up his mood? Yes, that sounds like a good idea. He’ll pitch it to Polyurethane later.
Polyester sets off with a slight skip in his step, humming cheerily. He got to chat with dad today, and he’s hanging out with Polyurethane for dinner tonight. Yes they have work tomorrow, but the grind’s not even that hard tbh. This life is good. This life is great! All he has to do is lock in to keep the status quo.
It’s perfect.
Between the two of them, Polyurethane tends to be a bit more honest when expressing his feelings.
So when he says something along the lines of, “Like, hand the sisters over, and no cap, we’ll lowkey just let you go” - well, uh! It makes him nervous.
It’s just weird, y’know, cuz, like, Polyurethane’s more of a “doer” than a “negotiater”, and like, he wasn’t really “negotiating” when he was threatening the Anarchy sisters with the sharp end of his greave, or destroying security cameras, or-
So, like, what gives? What’s changed, exactly? Dad’s plans would’ve doomed that human either way, and Polyurethane’s always been the more enthusiastic executor between the two of them. Why give the human an out?
( Those sisters have poisoned him, he privately thinks. However, seeing them stand up for their family, even when confined to a cube - it had shaken him, too. )
It’s okay. Polyester doesn’t have to dwell on it. A lot of things have shaken up the status quo recently - the forced vacation with their dad, the way dad’s been softening up a little around them, this sort of weird “on probation” period they’re having after resuming angel duties, but it’s fine, it’s fiiiine. So Polyester’s relationship with dad and work have been changing, but he’s still got dinners with Polyurethane-
Polyester struggles to open the door to their shared home in Heaven, shuffling the grocery bags around to reach the knob. “Yo!” he calls once he manages to get inside, kicking the door behind him. “Your usual blend was sold out. I grabbed a different one!”
“Huh?” Polyester can see his brother’s head pop up over the top edge of the couch. “Oopsies. Was it pricey?”
“Not too bad.” He toes his shoes off, then ambles into the living room whilst digging for said blend. “Peep this shit.”
Polyurethane gasps, spine straightening. “Bro! Lowkey, isn’t that like, the matcha that’s been going viral lately?! No way no way, you’ll whip it up for me right?!”
He chuckles. “Sure, bro, but let’s have dinner first. What’re you feeling? I’m thinking spicy hot chicke-”
“Ah, no dinner for me again tonight.”
…
What?
“Lowkey, I’ve got a hangout with the Briefmeister and Chuck. They’re actually pretty valid, can you believe it?” Polyurethane gets up from the couch and stretches his arms above his head, popping his shoulders. The crack of bone is sharp in Polyester’s ears. “Like, I figured with their weird old-fashioned mindset the vibes would be off, but actually they’ve been trying to respect the work-life boundaries! I was like, no way fam, that totally fucks.” Now he rolls his head side to side, another crack, crack. “Anyway, I’ve been running into them during ghost hunts, and after shift once dude outta nowhere’s like, ‘let’s do a screening for Dances with Wolves’, and I was like, go off bro! Betty!”
When Polyurethane turns to him with a smile on his face, Polyester realizes he still hasn’t responded.
“Uh, wow, no cap bro!” He laughs, though it sounds flat to his own ears (dammit, he fumbled). “Didn’t see that one coming.”
“Right? Even I was shook. Me, hanging with them again? Be for real! But… idk man, I thought I’d give it another try.” Polyurethane snickers and shakes his head, already walking past his brother. His hand briefly lands on his shoulder, heavy, weighted. Damning. “Anyway, that’s all from me tonight. I’ma head out now, bye-ah bro!”
“Right. Bye-”
The door clicks shut.
Polyester runs into trouble that night, out and alone and lost.
Normally he wouldn’t pick fights, and certainly not when he’s without his brother, but it’s not his fault! Those two angels were dissing his father loudly, snickering at his so-called foolish ambitions, calling him some kinda wannabe cult leader. They should’ve expected a comment or two if they were going to gossip within hearing distance.
In his defense, he wasn’t even the first one to throw a punch.
Not that it matters. Not when he’s standing in front of his father’s desk, and Ramie sighs while reading over the report.
“Brawling in a public space? I may have expected your brother to cause such problems, but not you.” He flips to the next page. “The other party refuses to tell me the reason. I don’t believe I can expect anything out of you either, can I?”
Polyester stares at the floor, hands gripped tightly behind his back. “I’m sorry, Sir. I can’t say it.”
A pause. Another sigh. Ramie rubs his temple, seemingly delaying his response. Polyester can’t stand it. Prior to everything that had happened, he would’ve been strict with his reprimands, straight to the point. This floundering father, this awkward sidestepping feels so foreign it makes him want to scream.
This isn’t the affection he’s used to.
Ramie stands from his seat and strides past him. “See that it doesn’t happen again.”
His heart stings worse than the bruise on his cheek. “Yes.”
It doesn’t bother him.
It doesn’t bother him, it doesn’t bother him, it doesn’t bother him! He is not! Bothered! In! The! Slightest!
Everything is fine. This is just a little hiccup in the status quo, but things will go back to normal soon. He continues on his way, working, chores, leisure, sleep, working, chores, leisure, sleep, working, chores, leisure, sleep-
And it works for about a week before the unthinkable happens.
No one could’ve seen it coming. He was in perfect form today, he swears - but just as he finishes his dance with his brother and slips the golden thong around his hand-
A sharp crack echoes through the area, and the glow of his gun dims ever so slightly.
The ghost is defeated no problem, and a shower of Heaven coins rains over them both. However, neither of them are counting their loot, too focused on the faintly fluorescent fragment that’s landed by Polyester’s foot.
Shaking, a hand comes up to gingerly touch his halo. It continues to float above his head, and it - it still works to an extent. However, the large chip in its ring, making it incomplete, is unmistakable.
“W-Wait,” Polyester’s voice shakes terribly. “Bro - Polyurethane. It’s chill, I promise! My halo cracking ain’t even that deep! This’s nothing! This, this-”
But Polyurethane only takes a step back, leaning away from him like he’s some contaminated, dirty thing. The expression on his face contorts, twists almost beyond recognition, and Polyester can’t bear to decipher what it means. “Are you being deadass? You - you’re literally falling, just like those bitchy sisters.”
It’s enough.
“You’re right,” he finds himself saying. He’s not even sure what his own face looks like right now, but each word comes cold, as measured as the stone layered within Heaven’s walls. “I’ll take my leave.”
Polyester’s not actually certain how he’s ended up here.
Everything since his halo cracking has been a blur. He thinks maybe he headed home at some point to pack his bags, but he’s got no luggage on him so that can’t be right. Did he even ride in Double Low-Riser after that shift? He can’t remember. He probably didn’t. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be standing in the streets of Daten City, letting rain pour over him without an umbrella.
The water soaks into his hair, his clothes, his shoes. It makes everything cling uncomfortably, serves to make himself more miserable. Pathetic.
Numbly, he feels himself drag one foot in front of the other. Where he’s walking, he doesn’t know. Can’t even see much through the heavy gray downpour. It doesn’t matter. He just needs to go.
A bird shits on him. A flower pot falls from the top floor and shatters over his head. Then someone else drops a hammer, a water basin, a fifteen kilo dumbbell. To top it all off, lightning strikes, fries him to soot. Heaven must be laughing at him.
One car swerves too close and splashes water over him. Another crashes into him and sends him flying into a garbage dump. He survives, of course. Fallen or not, he’s still an angel.
A wanton moan escapes through a higher up window, and he tilts his head back to find the silhouette of two people going at it. Casting his eyes off to the left, he sees the numerous neon signs and realizes he’s somehow made his way to the Redlight District. Is there even a Redlight District? It’s Daten City, so maybe the entirety of this town is a Redlight District.
Giggling a bit deliriously, he picks himself up and out of the trash. Foul. Utterly foul. A city full of sin and debauchery. Perfect for him, isn’t it.
And just so perfectly, he missteps - slips, trips over some disgusting used condom, and falls headfirst into an open manhole.
Polyester wakes to high arched ceilings, stained glass windows, and Garterbelt hovering over him.
He screams.