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The Rum Tum Tugger doesn’t care for a cuddle…
And, of course, he didn’t—not from any of those who so desperately wanted one, anyway. If he sprawled across Mistoffelees’s stomach in the sun, or curled around the smaller cat when they slept, well, that didn’t count. Mistoffelees, who was oh-so-unimpressed with his ego and persona.
The Rum Tum Tugger is a terrible bore…
On some level, Tugger was aware that Mistoffelees did it to wind him up, that he knew Tugger would respond to mockery and feigned indifference as he did not to the drooling adoration he got at every turn.
He knew, and he didn’t care. Mistoffelees needled him, and he jumped away, stung, to flaunt himself at his adoring fans, to assure himself that he still had it—because what else could an ego that size conceal but incredible self doubt?—and then run back to the slim dark cat for a scrap of attention. See, Mistoffelees? I’m great! Everyone loves me! Love me, damnit!
And of course Mistoffelees knew that if he ever did give Tugger the validation he forever sought, the other cat would flee in a heartbeat. Only those who saw through him, who didn’t want his attention, were deemed worth of it.
So Mistoffelees smirked to himself, and needled Tugger, and watched him rub all over the queens, and knew at the end of the day who he’d always be with. No matter how Tugger tried to make Mistoffelees jealous, they both knew who he was and was not truly interested in.
Oh! Well, I never! Was there ever a cat so clever as Magical Mr Mistoffelees?
And Tugger was the first to sing the praises of the Magical Mr Mistoffelees, and believed nobody saw through his motives—just to get Old Deuteronomy back, of course! And perhaps the others were too dazzled by lightning and glitter to wonder why Tugger sang the praises of the lithe and aloof tom, but Mistoffelees knew. And Mistoffelees smiled to himself, and chose the pretty sensuous Cassandra for his assistant, and waltzed her across the clearing, and perhaps not even Tugger knew that he wasn’t interested in the slightest, that just as Tugger only had eyes for Mistoffelees, Mistoffelees only had eyes for Tugger. Two could play at the jealousy game, after all, and it was so deliciously effective on Tugger, who pouted, and reached for him abortively, and then clung to him relentlessly later, when they were alone.
Terribly easy to manipulate, that cat, but Mistoffelees understood just how fragile Tugger was under his glittering facade, and he didn’t mind. He was careful never to needle too hard, cut too deep. He’d never want to truly hurt the delicious tom with the glorious ruff that was all his, of course. Amusing as Tugger was when he got clingy, the entertainment value was less, knowing that it was desperately trying to something for a core of self-doubt, for incredibly shaky self-image. Tugger relied on being built up by others because he couldn’t hold himself up on his own.
Sometimes Mistoffelees did wish he could show plain affection to Tugger and not have it misconstrued. Most of the time he enjoyed Tugger coming to him, fawning over him, but sometimes… he wanted to snuggle too, that’s all. Sometime when Tugger was awake, rather than just waiting until he slept and luxuriating back against him.
Because, regardless of external displays of contempt, all needling aside, Mistoffelees did love Tugger. He was terribly sweet, hiding under that harsh facade of ego. It may be that no other cat knew—save perhaps Old Deuteronomy, who saw more than most, looking through the years—but Mistoffelees knew that at his core Tugger wanted everyone to be happy. Even the queens he dropped to the floor when they tried to coax him out.
Probably everyone assumed that Tugger held back, kept apart, because he thought he was better than the other cats. Mistoffelees knew better, and it broke his heart, so he always glared Tugger into coming over to the rest for important things, like the return of Old Deuteronomy. Tugger had at least as much right to whirl joyously around the old tom as any other cat, but he’d never see it that way. When he wasn’t desperately trying for a fix of approval, Tugger didn’t see himself as really worthy of their company. Oh, with a haughty smirk the rest were easily convince that it was self-important, but when you knew him like Mistoffelees did….
Sometimes Mistoffelees wondered if anyone fell for Tugger’s attempts at camoflage. Standing there with each arm slung around a queen, but his eyes never leaving the slim dark tom whose fur cracked with magic… Was it really so easy to convince them that Tugger sang Mistoffelees’s praises for no reason at all?