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Mistoffelees was exhausted. The praise of the older cats and the adoring looks from the kittens had been wonderful. Deuteronomy telling him that he was proud of him, giving him a warm hug and stroking his head had been the best. But there was one cat he hadn’t seen since the ball ended and it was the only cat he wanted to talk to before collapsing in his den and sleeping for a week.
He found Rum Tum Tugger lounging against a broken pipe with Etcetera and Jemima each under one of his arms.
“Tugger.” Mistoffelees crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, hoping it was not obvious that he felt nearly too tired to stand.
“Magical Mr. Mistoffelees,” Tugger said with an attractive curl to his lip.
“You were incredible tonight, Misto!” Jemima piped up.
“Yeah! Amazing!” said Etcetera.
Mistoffelees put what he hoped was a sincere-enough looking smile on his face. “Thank you, ladies. Would you mind giving me a few minutes to talk to Tugger? Alone.”
The young queens looked a little crestfallen but took themselves away after each had gotten in one more rub under Tugger’s chin.
Tugger leaned back against the pipe, fingers interlaced behind his head and long legs stretched out in front of him. His amber eyes hadn’t left Mistoffelees.
“Something you want to say, clever cat?” he purred.
“What was that about?”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.” Both sides of Tugger’s mouth were curling up now.
“You know what I mean! That song!” Mistoffelees said with a huff.
“We needed to get Father back,” Tugger’s eyes flashed with momentary anger, clearly at Macavity, before returning to his serene, bemused expression, “and I knew you could do it. With the right inspiration.”
“You didn’t have to bring up the kittens!” Mistoffelees was too tired to keep the slight whine out of his voice.
“Those kittens,” Tugger said quietly, unlacing his fingers from behind his head and sitting forward, “were the most incredible thing I have ever seen.”
“Four different cats have asked me about it!” Mistoffelees complained “They were just-” he stopped himself before he could say they were just for you . “They were just a joke,” he substituted.
Was that hurt that flashed across Tugger’s face?
Mistoffelees had produced seven kittens out of a hat the week before the Jellicle Ball.
He was sprawled on top of Tugger, both of them floating in a blissful post-lovemaking haze. Mistoffelees was sore in the best possible way and was happily soaking up the heat from the bigger cat under him. They had been together a number of times and each time was a little better than the last. This time they had danced first, learning each other’s moves, then moving in sync. Mistoffelees could feel magic thrumming through his body.
He didn’t understand where his magic came from, or why he had it when almost none of the other jellicles did, but over the years he had figured out that dancing seemed to increase the amount of magic available to him. Mistoffelees wondered if Tugger could see his coat sparkling.
“We should den together.” Tugger’s voice sounded like a rumble where Mistoffelees had his ear against his chest.
Mistoffelees laughed. “Yeah, right.”
“We should.” Tugger wrapped Mistoffelees in his arms. “It would be fun. More of this. And more of making you howl my name.”
Mistoffelees reached down to pinch Tugger’s side, making him yelp. “I will have you know that I never howl,” he said haughtily. “I am not a pollicle.”
“Hah!” Tugger snorted. “You ever so mellifluously and genteely expressed your pleasure.”
“And don’t you forget it.” Mistoffelees nipped Tugger’s chin. “Anyway,” Mistoffelees continued, snuggling down against the ruff on Tugger’s chest, “we can’t den together because I have no interest in sleeping where the little queens are constantly screaming and fainting and clamoring for attention.”
“I could get them to back off,” Tugger said quietly.
Was that sincerity in his voice? Surely not.
“You won’t,” Mistoffelees said lightly. “Deuteronomy and Munkustrap are going to talk you into picking one of them and mating with her and having dozens of kittens.”
Tugger scoffed. “Munk and Demeter are going to carry on the family line. Father doesn’t care if I don’t sire kittens.”
Mistoffelees felt the magic sparking in his claws. He sat up on Tugger’s stomach and looked around. A dilapidated bowler hat was laying on the ground beside them.
“You don’t want kittens?” Mistoffelees asked with a mischievous twinkle. “I’d quite like to see your kittens.”
Mistoffelees built the picture in his mind and held it there for a moment, letting the magic flow around it. He shot a claw towards the hat, directing the magic, twisting and contorting his hands to encourage it into the right shape.
A baby version of Rum Tum Tugger pranced out of the hat. He was tiny and had fluff in place of the ruff, but the markings were all the same and he walked with Tugger’s signature strut, then stopped to do a hip roll.
Tugger sat up with a gasp, shifting Mistoffelees from his stomach to his lap. The big tom stared at the miniature version of himself, mouth agape.
“You clever cat,” Tugger murmured.
The appreciation warmed Mistoffelees like a hearth and he grinned, forming another picture in his mind.
“Yours is cute,” Mistoffelees said, “but I think mine would be cuter.”
Another zap of magic with his claw, another twisting of his hands, and a baby Mistoffelees leapt out of the hat and spun a graceful pirouette.
“Marvelous!” Tugger breathed, wrapping an arm around Mistoffelees’s waist and smiling like a sunbeam as he watched the illusory kittens who were now dancing together.
“They do make a handsome pair,” Mistoffelees mused, “as - I suppose - do we.”
“More than handsome,” Tugger purred, turning to him and kissing his cheek. “We’re perfect.”
Mistoffelees turned to face him and was lost for a moment in the liquid gold of Tugger’s eyes. Everlasting Cat, but he was stunning. And this ridiculously good-looking cat, the one who nearly every cat in the tribe (and beyond) desired, was admiring Mistoffelees , was entranced by what Mistoffelees could do. For the moment at least Tugger was looking at him like he was the only cat in the world. It was enough to make his fur stand on end. It was more than enough to make him want to show off a little more.
Mistoffelees put on a playful grin. “Hm, and you want to den together instead of taking a queen for your mate? Let’s see, what would our kittens look like?”
Mistoffelees closed his eyes, held the picture in his mind, then zap zap zap zap zap! He twisted and pulled the magic through the air, then one by one five more kittens emerged from the hat. An all black queen with a fluffy white ruff, a sleek tom with Tugger’s markings, a black tom with leopard spots on his legs and chest, a queen-version of the baby Tugger, a brown tom with a white chest and face.
“Phenomenal!” Tugger gasped. “Mistoffelees, you’re incredible! They look so real!”
Mistoffelees basked in the admiration as he leaned back against Tugger’s chest. Together they watched the seven kittens, who were all dancing in a blend of Mistoffelees’s style and Tugger’s. They were lovely and Mistoffelees let himself imagine a world where this would be possible. Where he could mate with Tugger and they could raise kittens together.
The images of the kittens flickered and Mistoffelees realized he had used quite a lot of magic. He glanced up at Tugger, then rubbed his head under his chin.
“Time to say goodbye,” he said quietly. He took a deep breath in, held it for a second, then breathed out slowly, letting the magic go as he did.
The kittens wavered for a moment then faded away.
He felt Tugger grab him around the ribs then picked him up and turned him so that they were nose to nose.
“You are the cleverest, most marvelous, phenomenal cat I have ever met,” Tugger said.
And then Tugger’s hand was on the back of his head and they were kissing passionately.
Eventually, Mistoffelees pulled away to yawn.
Tugger gave a surprised laugh. “Am I boring you, clever cat?”
“Not at the moment,” Mistoffelees said, “but using that much magic makes me sleepy-” he pushed firmly against Tugger’s chest, until the bigger tom lay down on his back and Mistoffelees could stretch out on top of him again, “- and you make an excellent bed.”
“You expect me to just lay here while you nap?” Tugger chuckled.
“No,” Mistoffelees said as he closed his eyes, “I expect you to nap too.”
Tugger chuckled again and stroked the back of Mistoffelees’s head and down his back. After a moment Tugger began to purr, and then Mistoffelees was asleep.
“If that was a joke,” Tugger said stiffly, “then I suppose I don’t understand your sense of humor.”
Mistoffelees’s heart lurched in his chest. “Tugger,” he said, stepping forward, only to stumble as his legs buckled.
Tugger leapt to his feet and was at Mistoffelees’s side in a blink. “You’re exhausted,” he said, holding up the smaller tom with one hand on his chest and the other around his waist.
“Locating and transporting a real, live cat takes a lot more magic than conjuring illusions.” Mistoffelees grinned up at him ruefully. “I’m pretty wiped out.”
“Come on,” Tugger said. “I’ll get you back to your den.”
Mistoffelees leaned into his side. “Yours is closer,” he said quietly.
“What? You want - but I thought - I mean -”
Mistoffelees grasped Tugger’s chin and guided him down for a gentle kiss. “I want to be with you,” he said.
“Really?” Tugger asked as a smile spread across his face. “I’m not too much of a bore?”
“No,” Mistoffelees said, “and you’re an excellent bed, so it balances out.”
Tugger laughed and they kissed again, then proceeded, slowly, to Tugger’s den.