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The steadily climbing sun shone over the junkyard as bright as the jellicle moon the night before. It often did on the morning after the ball, as if the moon had whispered the news to the sun in passing and she, too, was celebrating the new beginnings. While the prouder of the jellicles would say it was less than half as bright and enchanting as their moon, today, even they would admit finding comfort in its warmth. The tribe was winding down from the life and festivity of the annual Jellicle Ball, and even the rowdiest kittens found they had trouble keeping their eyes open as the sun kissed their whiskers. Most of the jellicles retired to their junkyard dens, preferring to sleep in the sun rather than making the trek back to their families. No, they were weary, and the sun was bright and warm, and they wanted to close their eyes and sleep, leaving only a few lone cats still awake.
Mistoffelees stretched in the sun, body sore and drained from a night of dancing and magic. If the others were tired, he was exhausted, but knew better than to sleep without cooling down. Besides, the warmth soothed the aches in his muscles. He leaned against a sturdy pile and held one ankle behind him to stretch his quads. He had been carefully alternating to the other leg when a voice startled him, making him jump.
“So, a ‘terrible bore,’ huh?” Turning quickly around, Mistoffelees found himself face to face with the Rum Tum Tugger. The tom grinned at him, altogether all too pleased with having startled the magician. Upon seeing the showcat, Mistoffelees relaxed into a lean, settling most of his weight into one hip and crossing his arms loosely. He raised one eyebrow in question, as if to say, what of it? Tugger smiled and shook his head in mock-offense. “Misto… And to think I sung your praises.”
Mistoffelees smiled amusedly and rolled his eyes. “You did that yourself, after I called you boring. That one’s on you,” he pointed out. “And somebody has to keep that ego in check.”
Mistoffelees continued his stretching, not actually minding the older tom’s presence at all, though he liked to tease. Tugger had plenty of cats falling for his act, throwing themselves at his feet. Mistoffelees didn’t feel the need to add to that, and found it rather undignified in the first place. The magician found he kept Tugger’s attention just fine by not giving his own attention to him.
It made sense, of course. It was in Tugger’s nature to go after what it seemed he couldn’t have, and it was in this way that the toms played their little game. The Rum Tum Tugger, drama and sex appeal, the brazen center of attention, and Quaxo Mistoffelees, vague, aloof, and uninterested.
“Let’s see how boring I am, then,” Tugger challenged.
Mistoffelees smiled as he exhaled into a lunge. “Well, you aren’t off to a very good start,” he mused as he righted himself. Tugger huffed, watching the petite cat stretch his arms above his head, palms up with fingers laced. He looked over the tuxedo’s lean form, not bothering to be discreet about it, as the other lowered his arms and turned to walk off.
“Now why’s that?” Tugger asked after him. Mistoffolees didn’t turn back around to respond, simply called back, sounding quite chuffed. “Because I knew you were going to say that.”.
The Rum Tum Tugger watched with intent as Mistoffolees walked away, feeling only entirely more infatuated with the aloof little cat. The magician paused only for a moment, looking over his shoulder. “Sundown.”
“What?”
“You’re not a bore? Prove it to me. Get some rest, meet me here at sundown.”
Tugger ear’s perked and a look of mischievous determination crossed his face. If you asked, he’d never admit the way his heart began to race. He flashed his teeth in a grin, responding with his usual, smooth over-confidence. “You got it, babe.”
“Somehow I already regret this.”