A spin. A leap. A landing, easy and light on first one foot, then the other. A moment of pause, head tipped back, blue eyes filled with an ethereal light. Then he’s off again, twisting and turning into a seemingly endless pirouette.

Nearby, on the inevitable red car, the Rum Tum Tugger lounges, looking as if he has nothing to do at all. But he is awake and alert, his half-closed eyes avidly, intently watching his lover dance.

A midair twist. Land on all fours, crouched for half a heartbeat on the dirt. Then up! with a swish of the tail, and, after a flourish and bow, he whirls around to gaze expectantly, with a bright, breathless smile, at the other tom.

The languid leopard stretches out, claws extended, tail twitching on the sun-warmed metal. He knows what is expected of him, but he enjoys dragging it out, teasing the younger cat with both this and the sight of him, long and lean and languorous.

He can sense Mistoffelees’s growing impatience. He always knows how Mistoffelees was feeling.

"You know you’re perfect," the Rum Tum Tugger finally says, blinking his eyes with feigned drowsiness at his mate. "You don’t need me to tell you that."

Mistoffelees’s face brightens with a sparkling grin, the kind of smile that always makes the Rum Tum Tugger’s heartbeat speed up and his knees go weak.

"You’re perfect," he whispers again, and is rewarded for his flattery by a sudden black and white tomcat in his arms.

Yes, the Rum Tum Tugger thinks, snuggling his face into his mate’s dark-furred shoulder… He’s perfect – I’m perfect – so we’re perfect together...