"I'm sorry I'm late," Mistoffelees apologized, standing on the tips of his toes to kiss his tomfriend on the cheek in greeting. Munkustrap helped by leaning down to meet him halfway, putting his hands on Mistoffelees' slight shoulders as they exchanged kisses. "Rehearsal ran a little long."
"It's alright," he replied, giving the smaller tom a little nuzzle before straightening up and offering him his arm. "I warned Demeter that they might keep you tied up for a while. How're you feeling?"
Mistoffelees laughed, looping his arm through Munkustrap's and letting the tabby lead him towards the entrance of the restaurant, past the disgruntled smokers and people waiting for the hotel valet. "Exhausted," he replied honestly. "And starved. We didn't really have time to break for lunch. I hear this place is good, though."
"With how much they charge, they ought to be," Munkustrap mumbled into his ear as they passed through the large double doors. Mistoffelees snorted as they paused at the host's podium. The white and cream patchwork gave them a haughty look, folding his hands over his reservations book. "Hello, we're here to meet up with another couple- reservation for four under the name Demeter?"
"Mr Munkustrap?" the tom asked. The tabby nodded, and he tucked two menus under his arm and held open the second set of double doors for the pair. "Right this way, sirs."
Mistoffelees had been a little unsure when Munkustrap had asked him if he would mind having dinner with his ex-queenfriend and her new tomfriend, but a free meal at a five-star restaurant on a professional stage dancer's salary was a hard offer to pass up, and he was starting to warm up to the idea. He had thought it a bit unorthodox that Munkustrap was still such good friends with his ex, but from what he'd told him about her, Demeter seemed like a nice enough woman- they had coffee together every Thursday before Munkustrap went to work and made an effort to go out to dinner at least once a month. From what he had gathered, this was the first time in a while that both Munkustrap and Demeter had been attached, and both had been eager to meet the other's new tomfriend, hence the dinner plans- and that was what made him most nervous. He'd already met Munkustrap's father and younger brother (the latter of which he could have done without, really) and now it seemed as though Demeter was the next hurdle he had to jump.
"Relax," Munkustrap whispered, as though reading his mind. He gave the small tuxedo's arm a reassuring squeeze. "This is just a friendly dinner, not an interrogation. Demeter's going to love you."
Mistoffelees looked up at the tabby and gave him a gentle smile, resting his head against his arm as they followed the host to their table, but he couldn't help but shake his nervousness. Would sitting across from Munkustrap's ex for an hour be awkward? Everlasting, it sounded like something that should be- but Munkustrap seemed so sure that it wouldn't. Had he done this before with other tom or queenfriends, or was he the first one that Demeter was going to meet? Either option seemed equally terrifying.
Exhaling a nervous breath, he stood straight and squared his shoulders, hovering close to Munkustrap. If he could handle meeting Old Deuteronomy for the first time without hacking up on him out of sheer nervousness, making a good impression in front of Demeter would be child's play. No unexpected surprises here- at least, none that could possibly rival Rum Tum Tugger. The thought was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.
Macavity unfolded and refolded the napkin in his lap, in equal parts antsy and anxious. Their dinner reservation had technically been for half an hour ago, but Demeter had warned him that her ex might be a tad late- his tomfriend was a performer of some sort, one who did evening rehearsals.
Demeter folded her hand over his as he started playing with the garnet ring he wore on his ring finger, clasping his fingers between her own. He looked up at her from the loose string on his shirt cuff that he'd been focused on, mirroring the small smile she gave him.
"Nervous?" she asked, her other hand gently rubbing his arm. He let out a low chuckle, giving her hand a squeeze.
"Only a little," he said. He hadn't really thought anything of Demeter being so close to her former tomfriend until she had politely suggested they go out to dinner with him and his new beau, and now he felt- threatened? Jealous? Neither of those, precisely, because he trusted Demeter absolutely, but perhaps a little unprepared. This tom wasn't competition, but he was a standard to live up to. Maybe it was that mentality that had led him to suggest dinner at the most expensive restaurant in the city and to insist on footing the bill; animals in the wilderness showed their dominance through scratching, clawing, and biting, and apparently cats showed it through a lofty display of wealth. Especially when compared to a- what had Demeter said he did for a living? School teacher, he thought. Definitely lofty in comparison, if that was the case.
"Don't be," she said, leaning in for a kiss; Macavity gave her a chaste peck, befitting their surroundings. "Munkustrap is one of the politest toms I've ever met. I'm sure the two of you will get along just fine."
Getting along with Munkustrap was not something he was particularly concerned about- they stayed out of each other's social circles for the most part, after all- but the reassurance was nice either way. He gave her another quick peck and pulled his hand away from hers to consult his watch. Almost forty minutes late now. He briefly debated flagging down a waiter to order wine for the rest of their wait when Demeter perked up beside him, straining her neck slightly to look over the heads of the other restaurant patrons.
"That's them, I think," she said, nodding to the silver tabby being led in their direction by the restaurant host. He looked exactly as Demeter had described, although perhaps she had been a little modest on his behalf- immaculate silver tabby coat, broad chest, gentle face. He gave a sniff and let his eyes wander to Munkustrap's companion, the other tom that would be joining them for dinner, wondering if he was feeling just as uncomfortable.
His stomach sank and his eyes widened when he caught sight of the other tom, and he all but grabbed their waiter as he passed.
"Do you sell full bottles of hard liquor?" he asked quickly, while Demeter was still distracted by watching Munkustrap be led through the restaurant.
"I- suppose we could arrange something, sir," came the reply to a question he had clearly never heard before. "What would you like?"
"A bottle of the strongest thing you're legally allowed to sell me," Macavity said, pressing two fifty-pound notes into his hand. "As soon as possible, please." The waiter glanced down at his payment and pocketed it, dashing off in what he assumed was the direction of the hotel bar. By now Demeter had turned her attention back to him and seemed to have noticed the anxious look on his face.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, tenderly rubbing his arm. He pursed his lips and remained silent, drumming his fingers on the table and hoping that the waiter would be back with something strong and foul-tasting soon.
Nothing that could possibly rival the Rum Tum Tugger? Mistoffelees had to admit; when he proved himself wrong, he at least did so dramatically. He had eyes only for Munkustrap as the host led them to the back of the restaurant, mostly because keeping his eyes on his tomfriend helped to soothe his nerves, but the moment he caught sight of the black and gold queen who fit Demeter's description perfectly and the bright red tabby mix at her side, what little colour there was in his pure white face drained completely. He momentarily froze in his tracks, nearly tripping Munkustrap as they were still joined at the elbow.
"What's wrong? Are you feeling alright?" he asked, noting the distressed expression on Mistoffelees face.
"I- think so. Just feeling a little ill. Would you excuse me?" Before he even caught sight of Munkustrap's little nod in the corner of his eye he unlooped his arm from his and tapped the host on the shoulder. "Excuse me. Bathroom?" he asked. The haughty patchwork pointed out a small hallway to his left and before Munkustrap could question him further, he all but dashed for it.
Mistoffelees didn't even stop to admire what was likely the fanciest bathroom he had ever been in; he simply beelined for the nearest stall and closed it behind him, leaning over the toilet to retch violently. His stomach seemed to be just as dramatic as he was, emptying itself of nothing but bile, since he hadn't eaten since early that morning.
When his stomach had stopped being as acrobatic as the rest of him, he quickly splashed his face with water and readjusted his clothes, doing every possible little thing to delay having to step back out there. He even debated escaping through the window, if necessary.
Nothing worse than Tugger? Oh, he was wrong by a long shot.
Munkustrap watched with concern as his tomfriend darted off to the bathroom without so much as another word, but followed the host to Demeter's table. His ex-queenfriend stood up as he approached, greeting him with a friendly hug. He returned it with one arm, giving her a firm pat on the shoulder as he nodded to the ginger cat sitting with his hands folded politely on the table. The other tom nodded back, and he couldn't help but notice the way he was taut as a wire.
"Sorry I'm late," he apologized, breaking apart from Demeter and pulling out the seat across from her as she sat down. "Mistoffelees got held up at work." The red tom stood up, extending a hand across the table for him to shake.
"Can't be helped sometimes," he said with a terse smile. "I'm Macavity, pleasure to meet you."
Munkustrap accepted the hand, impressed by the firmness of the other tom's grip. "Munkustrap, and the pleasure's all mine," he replied. "Especially with you taking us out to dinner and all. Thank you for that, by the way."
Macavity gave him a dismissing wave of the hand as the two both sat back down. "Think nothing of it," he said, once again folding his hands in front of him. "I'm something of a regular here."
"Where did your tomfriend go? Wasn't he with you when you came in?" Demeter asked, peering around as she rested one of her hands on top of both of Macavity's.
"I think he was feeling a little under the weather," he replied, looking over his shoulder at the entrance to the bathrooms. "He probably worked himself too hard at rehearsal- maybe I should go check on him-"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than Mistoffelees strode out of the bathroom, back still straight and shoulders still squared but any attempts at a cheery smile completely wiped from his face. He strode over to the table in silence, standing at the corner. Again Demeter stood up, this time extending her hand to Mistoffelees the same way Macavity had to Munkustrap.
"You must be Mistoffelees," she said as he gently shook her hand, giving her a polite smile. "Munkustrap's told me so much about you. Please, sit down." She led by example, and Mistoffelees politely took his seat across from Macavity. The polite smile completely disappeared as soon as he turned to face the ginger tom. "Mistoffelees, this is my tomfriend Macavity."
She gestured for Macavity to extend his hand to Mistoffelees, but both of them kept their hands folded firmly in front of them as Mistoffelees turned and gave her another polite smile. "Oh, that's alright. We already know each other."
Munkustrap turned to his date, ears perked and eyes widened. "You do?" he asked, and he could hear Demeter saying the same as she turned to Macavity across the table.
"Oh yes," Mistoffelees said, turning to look at the oldest tom. Again, the polite smile dropped right from his face, replaced with a frosty look. "Unfortunately."
Munkustrap's eyes widened at the rudeness of his usually terribly polite tomfriend, but across the table from him, Macavity simply grimaced.
"Hello, Mistoffelees," he said through gritted teeth. "It's nice to see you."
"After ten years, it must be a refreshing reunion for you, yes," Mistoffelees returned with a forced smile. Macavity sighed, rubbing his forehead and pinching the ridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, waving a hand in the youngest tom's general direction.
"Demeter, I'd like you to meet Mistoffelees," he said with a tone of resignation. "The, ah- son I was telling you about."
The tension in the air was almost palpable, with Munkustrap and Demeter staring at each other wide-eyed, then at their respective tomfriends. Mistoffelees had turned his attention to the act of very carefully folding his napkin and placing it in his lap, while Macavity looked like he wanted nothing more than to disappear completely. It wasn't until the waiter reappeared, red-faced and carrying a tray with a crystal decanter of amber liquid and four glasses, that the awkward silence was broken.
"Do you need anything else, sir?" the small grey tom asked, setting the tray on the table between the four of them.
"That will be all, thank you," Macavity said curtly, already reaching for the decanter. He poured himself an overly generous helping into one of the delicate and almost decorative looking glasses before holding it up to the others. "Would anyone else care for some?"
Demeter gave a polite shake of the head and Munkustrap held his hand up with a small 'no thank you', expecting the same from Mistoffelees, who he knew wasn't much of a drinker. He was a bit surprised when the young tuxedo all but snatched up one of the remaining glasses and held it out across the table- not quite a polite request, but Macavity only hesitated for a moment before giving him a slightly less generous helping. He took one sniff of the amber liquid and cringed, but forced his way through the first gulp anyway, taking more of a mouthful than was probably healthy. The taste of it made him shudder, but he managed to swallow it with nothing more than a slight pursing of the lips.
An awkward, blanket silence fell over them and Munkustrap looked across the table at Demeter, the two of them grimacing at each other with their eyes. The only noises that permeated their bubble of silence, aggressive on Mistoffelees' part and awkwardly closed on Macavity's, was the clinking and clatter of cutlery from nearby tables, until Demeter dared to clear her throat loudly and break that bubble.
"I guess I should be doubly glad to meet you, then," she said, trying to keep the desperation and awkwardness out of her voice. "Munkustrap's told me so much about you."
Mistoffelees smiled at her, still polite, but it was very clear that he was tense if not outright uncomfortable. "All good things, I hope?" Munkustrap could remember him practising lines like that out of nerves, but now it seemed as though he was spouting cliches out of politeness more than anything. Demeter either failed to notice or chose to ignore it out of courtesy.
"Of course," she said, folding her own napkin in her lap as Mistoffelees had already done. "He's told me you're a professional dancer- and an excellent one at that."
Mistoffelees seemed to be caught off guard by that, his tense politeness turning into bashfulness as he stared down into what was left in his tumbler. "He's exaggerating," he said humbly. "I'm really not that good. But I'm glad to hear he tries to sell me up to his friends."
Munkustrap chose that moment to step back into the conversation, seizing the first chance he'd seen to help alleviate the tension. "Don't listen to him," he said firmly. "He's terrific." He gave his tomfriend a brilliant smile, and he could see Mistoffelees' irritation about his bragging melt off of his face.
Macavity tried to make himself as unobtrusive in the conversation as possible, letting out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding in when Demeter took the lead in the conversation and steered it into safe waters. As the subject turned to Mistoffelees' dancing, he stared down into his high-proof whiskey, his ears twitching under his well-groomed but completely uncontrollable headfur.
"Are you still at the Royale?" he asked, taking a sip of his drink and relishing in the way it burned his throat like acid.
Mistoffelees' attention immediately turned to him, looking almost startled, as though he'd forgotten that he was even sitting at the table- which, in all likelihood, was what he'd been trying to do. His bashful smile slipped back to an expression of cool politeness, but at least it was a step up from the absolute disdain he'd been looking at him with earlier.
"For now," he replied succinctly. Then, with a look of curiosity, "How did you know where I worked?"
"Victoria told me," he said with a small, awkward shrug. Funny- he was one of the most intimidating cats most people knew, and yet sitting across from his tiny tuxedo of a son made him want to duck under the table or out the nearest window. Instead he took another drink.
"The two of you talk, then?" Mistoffelees asked. Macavity winced internally as he realized Victoria likely hadn't told him.
"She calls me once a month," he said, running a hand over his mane. "Gives me a rather political run-down of what's been going on in your lives for exactly half an hour, then finds some excuse to hang up on me."
Mistoffelees nodded numbly, and Macavity turned his attention fully to the glass in his hand, only coming back to reality when their waiter approached to take their order. Even then he was not quite all there, forgetting what he and everyone else at the table had ordered only moments after the starchy tom (at least, he thought it was a tom) walked off to deliver their order to the kitchen.
He needed a break, he decided. A break and some fresh air. One hand reached into the pocket of his coat, folded neatly over the back of his chair, while the other came to rest on Demeter's knee. "Can you excuse me? I could use some fresh air before our food arrives."
Demeter squeezed his hand and Munkustrap gave him a nod, saying something he didn't quite catch, but Mistoffelees simply kept an unwavering eye on him as he threw his coat on over his shoulders. As he slid out of his chair, he heard Mistoffelees excuse himself to the washroom and saw him move towards the back of the restaurant, in the opposite direction, out of the corner of his eye.
He didn't bother fastening his coat as he stepped out into the mid-fall chill, but he did pull it tighter around his shoulders as he moved past the valet and around the corner to the side of the hotel that faced the less glamourous side street. He found himself a quiet spot away from the few other people lingering around, lit himself a cigarette, and leaned back against the cold brick.
"I thought you quit smoking."
He shouldn't have been surprised at Mistoffelees' sudden appearance, but he bristled a little in spite of himself when the tiny, proper voice piped up next to him. He exhaled his lungful of smoke in the opposite direction, tapping the ashes from his cigarette onto the sidewalk next to him.
"I did," he answered as the smaller black body leaned against the wall next to him. "It didn't last. Did your mother tell you that?"
Mistoffelees nodded dumbly, picking at the cuff of his sleeve. He maintained a noticeable distance from him; a stout person would have easily been able to fit between them and still have elbow room.
Macavity sighed, taking another long drag on his cigarette. "Besides, can you blame me for needing a smoke, all things considered?" Mistoffelees shrugged, mouth firmly shut as he cupped his face in one hand.
After a few moments of absolute silence that felt like eternities, Macavity exhaled a mesmerizing cloud of smoke into the night air. "You seemed rather inclined to pretend I didn't exist inside. Any reason you've changed your stance on that?"
Mistoffelees squared his shoulders; getting to the point seemed to strengthen the resolve that small talk had made him lose. "I don't like you," he said plainly, arms folded over his chest. "If I could, I would go the rest of my life without ever speaking to you again. But Munkustrap means a lot to me and Demeter means a lot to him, and I don't want to drive a wedge between them because I can barely stand to be in the same room as you." The small black cat was clearly uncomfortable; his fur was bristling, his tail was lashing, and every muscle in his body was tense. Macavity was less than surprised. "I'm willing to call a truce just for tonight- for his sake. But I want to make it very clear that just because I'm willing to be civil, it doesn't mean I feel any differently about you."
Macavity nodded, trying to be impassive as he dropped his cigarette and ground it out with his foot. "Duly noted," he murmured. Mistoffelees looked taken aback by his instant agreement, then simply nodded with wide eyes.
"..alright then," he said meekly, that bravado draining away again. Macavity almost laughed at the idea of him rehearsing all of the nasty things he wanted to say to him, only to be thwarted by his passive indifference.
Macavity didn't bother to wait for the tuxedo as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and walked back around to the hotel entrance and into the restaurant, giving the host a curt nod as he passed. As he approached their table, Demeter broke off from her conversation with Munkustrap and smiled brightly at him.
"I hope I didn't miss anything," he said softly as he sat down next to her, giving her a chaste peck on the cheek.
"Not a thing," she replied, rubbing his arm as he shrugged his coat back onto his chair. He watched carefully for Mistoffelees to reappear from the front door of the restaurant, but was only somewhat surprised to see him walk back to the table from the men's bathroom and adjusting the hem of his waistcoat. His eyes glossed over Macavity entirely as he sat down, whispering something to Munkustrap that made the silver tabby laugh, and Macavity took the momentary distraction as an opportunity to pour himself another splash of whiskey.
He didn't have time to observe Mistoffelees' not-quite offer of peace in action, because by the time the tuxedo had settled himself, the waiter was bringing them the first course of their meal. He forced himself to eat without really tasting what he was putting in his mouth, and couldn't help but notice the way Mistoffelees constantly had either a bit of food or his fork in his mouth as a way of politely excusing himself from the quiet, comfortable conversation that Munkustrap and Demeter had struck up to fill the silence.
Setting down his own fork and dabbing the corner of his mouth with his napkin, Macavity caught his son's eye across the table and clasped his hands on the smooth wood surface. "So," he said with an attention-capturing clearing of his throat, straightening his cutlery as Mistoffelees' ears perked in his direction. "You have a performance coming up?"
Mistoffelees sat up perfectly straight, hands folded properly in his lap. There was still a measure of anger in his eyes when he regarded the red tabby sitting across from him, but he was admittedly very good at hiding it behind a polite facade.
"Relatively soon, yes," he replied, nervously adjusting the ends of his sleeves. "We've only had a handful of rehearsals so far."
Macavity nodded, his eyes straying away from his son's steadfast gaze and across the quiet restaurant. He became so distracted that his fur bristled slightly in surprise when Demeter rested her hand lightly on his knee.
"What sort of dance do you do, Mistoffelees?" she asked, either having finished her conversation with Munkustrap or choosing to intervene before things became frosty and awkward once more.
"Jazz lyrical, mostly," he replied, pushing the last few bites of his appetizer around on his plate with his fork. "These days, at least. Most of my training is in classical ballet, but you have to follow the performance opportunities, and- that's where they happen to be right now." His eyes momentarily glanced in Macavity's direction, strangely enough seeming to measure his reaction, but he quickly turned his attention back to Demeter. The glance was not lost on the red tabby-mix.
"That's so interesting," she said with a smile, lacing her fingers together under his chin. "Munkustrap was actually telling me that you're one of the lead dancers in the show."
Mistoffelees gave Munkustrap a dry look, prompting the silver tabby to chuckle behind a useless hand. "Of course he did," he said with an exasperated sigh. "He's exaggerating again- there isn't really a lead. He just likes to brag about me."
"You know I can't help it," Munkustrap said, completely unapologetic. "There's a lot of reasons for me to brag."
The two of them shared a look so soft and intimate that Macavity felt he was being intrusive just by looking at it, no matter how short-lived it was, and drew him to stare back into his glass of dark amber. That moment was quickly broken by the arrival of the main course of their meal and a curt waiter asking if they'd enjoyed their appetizers. All four of them mumbled their own responses as their old plates were cleared away.
Macavity regarded his salmon steak with the idle realization that he wasn't particularly hungry, but given the price tag attached to the meal, he endeavoured to eat as much of it as possible.
"So, Macavity," Munkustrap said, clearing his throat as he pushed a colourful arrangement of peppers around on his plate. "What is it you do for a living? Demeter tried to explain it to me but it all went a little over my head, I'm afraid."
"Ah, well," the tabby-mix paused, taking a bite of his food to give him a moment to collect his thoughts. "I think the simplest explanation would be to say that most of my money is tied up in investments. I have stakes in a number of companies- civil service and manual labour providers, mostly. It's- primarily a matter of keeping a dozen things organized at once, and working around the stupidity of others."
He could feel Mistoffelees' bright eyes burning into him from across the table, but he elected (perhaps wisely) to keep his attention turned to Munkustrap.
The silver tabby cringed, presumably in sympathy for his last two comments. "Sounds like rough work," he said genuinely. After taking a few bites of a meal that surely cost more than he made in a day, he paused and added, "At least you make good money."
"Yes, that's certainly one of the perks of the job," he said with a small, polite smile. He expected a comment like that to come with some measurement of jealousy, or at least envy, but Munkustrap said it with a plain factualness that could only come from a person who was contented and even happy with his lot in life, something Macavity found himself admiring. It was difficult to remind himself that he was the one who was there to be looked over, not the other way around; having his son on the opposite side of the table, however hostile towards him, was making him more analytical of Munkustrap's behaviour than he might otherwise have been.
It was equally difficult to remind himself that he didn't have any sort of right to make that sort of judgement.
"So how did the two of you meet? Munkustrap didn't exactly give me all of the details."
Mistoffelees was surprised that the topic hadn't come up in conversation earlier, given that they'd all been trying to either keep their mouths full of food or continue idle conversation at all times. Demeter had been particularly good at that, finding all of the right non-obtrusive questions to ask and steering the conversation in the right direction, particularly when Macavity and Munkustrap got to talking. Mistoffelees had a difficult time remembering that the meeting had been set up just as much for Munkustrap to meet Demeter's new tomfriend just as much as it was for Demeter to meet him- it had just been his misfortune that her tomfriend had been Macavity of all cats. Every time he politely asked Munkustrap some personal question or another, like what school he worked at or what subject he taught or whether he liked what he did, his fur bristled; even worse was sitting there and listening to Macavity lie through his teeth to Munkustrap about what he did for a living. Demeter's intervention was well-timed.
"My sister introduced us, actually," he replied, picking at his food like he was inspecting it for poison. He'd been excited at the idea of a five star meal on someone else's bill when he'd first entered, but a combination of the throwing up and knowing that Macavity was the one paying was making his appetite negligible. "She set us up through Munkustrap's brother."
"Through Tugger?" she said. Judging by her reaction, she was all too aware of the connotations that came with that, something- he should have expected, really. The fact that Demeter had also dated Munkustrap, something he'd been all too aware of at the beginning of the night, was becoming increasingly trivial and difficult to remember. She turned to Munkustrap. "That must have been an interesting conversation."
"That's an understatement," the tabby said with a fond sigh of resignation and a shake of the head, which was more or less his usual reaction when the conversation turned to talk of his younger brother. "I wouldn't agree to go until he admitted it wasn't his idea- which took some fighting, mind you. I'm kind of scared to think about what kind of tom Tugger would try to set me up with.."
As their conversation became somewhat self-enclosed again, Mistoffelees dared another look at Macavity, who was equally uninvolved and was keeping his attention mostly on dividing his food into the smallest portions possible. Looking at him was- odd, to say the least. The clearest memories he had of him were from ten-year-old photographs, and it was genuinely disconcerting to see how little he'd changed in that decade. His fur was not quite as lustrous as he remembered, there were a few more wrinkles on his face (no laugh lines, he noticed), but otherwise he looked every bit the same as he had when Mistoffelees was twelve.
When Munkustrap and Demeter reached a comfortable lull in their conversation, or simply dropped off because they realized their significant others were once again sitting in an uncomfortable silence, Mistoffelees quickly jumped in. "What about the two of you? How did you meet?" The question was directed at Demeter, but he couldn't help but watch Macavity's face as he said it.
The red tabby-mix turned to the queen, giving her the platform to speak and simultaneously avoiding Mistoffelees' gaze. Mistoffelees tried to keep his attention on her, but it was difficult not to let his eyes wander to Macavity- at least until he saw the completely fond smile on the tom's face, eyes crinkling genuinely at the corners. Then his attention was all on Demeter.
"Well," she said, with a gentle laugh, pausing to take a small bite of her food. "It's really not that interesting a story."
"Humour us," Munkustrap encouraged, leaning into the conversation. He loved to listen to stories almost as much as he loved to tell them- Mistoffelees could remember their first date being little more than a constant stream of conversation that halted only when they remembered that there was food on their plates.
"Okay, if you insist- you know how I got the management position at that restaurant on Collings a few months ago?" Munkustrap nodded and Mistoffelees followed suit, although in reality it was news to him- he'd never even thought to ask what Demeter did for a living, and was now feeling rather embarrassed by the fact. "Well, part of my job- aside from making sure all of the employees are doing what they're supposed to be doing and helping out where it's needed- is to make sure all of the customers are having a good time. It's the sort of place that gets celebrities and famous food critics in all the time, so sometimes that means a little more than making sure the service is fast and the servers are polite. Macavity was there one night, and when I asked if there was anything I could do to make his evening more enjoyable, he said the only thing I could do to make it any better was to sit and talk with him. So I took my break, and, well.."
'The rest is history' was unspoken, but there all the same. Macavity ducked his head and balled his fist up near his mouth as though he was embarrassed by the story, and Demeter reached over to rub his arm with an amused smile.
"I bet that's a good story to tell at parties," Munkustrap commented.
Mistoffelees kept his eyes down, slowly reducing his food to mush with the prongs of his fork. He wanted to be engaged in the conversation, he really did- he was terribly embarrassed by the fact that Munkustrap and Demeter were forced to guide the conversation while he sat there and pretended to eat, but all his mind could focus on was how much he didn't want to be there. He'd extended a hand in civility to Macavity in an effort to minimize the awkwardness for Munkustrap and Demeter, but sitting across from him still felt wrong. A few times he caught Macavity looking up at him from his food or drink and he could only barely contain his desire to tell him to just take a picture already.
Their waiter stopped by their table when either plates had been cleaned or food had been more or less abandoned, with a promptness Mistoffelees was rather impressed by. "Is there anything more I can get you, sirs and madame?"
Macavity looked about the table as if waiting for someone else to step in, then turned back to the questioning waiter. "I think that'll be all, thank you," he said, folding his hands together on the table. "We'll have the bill now."
Mistoffelees breathed an internal sigh of relief as their decorative plates were loaded onto the waiter's tray and carried off, glad that he wouldn't have to sit through another course of the meal. He had at least managed to force his way through more than half of his food, although it sat heavy and uncomfortable in his stomach.
"Are you sure about paying for all of us?" Munkustrap asked, already reaching for his wallet. Macavity held his hand up to stop him just as the little black booklet was placed in the centre of the table, pulling his own leather fold from his back pocket. He took the booklet and looked over the bill briefly before casually pulling out two hundred pound notes and sliding them into the plastic as though it were the easiest thing in the world; more than enough for all of the food for both of them for a week, almost as much as their groceries for an entire month, and he parted with it as casually and with as much disinterest as pocket change. An idle anger burned in Mistoffelees at that thought, but he pushed it aside. Freedom was close at hand, and surely after how uncomfortable this night had been, Munkustrap and Demeter would think twice about setting up another get-together for the four of them.
Their coats had been quickly donned as soon as Macavity had sorted himself out, and as the foursome stepped out into the autumnal night, the two couples stood and faced each other in a formal sort of way. Demeter reached out to firmly grasp one of his delicate hands between both of hers, something between a handshake and a caress.
"It was so nice to finally meet you, Mistoffelees," she said with a genuine smile and a good nature that made him feel even more guilty about his lack of involvement throughout the night.
He gave her an equally bright smile, returning the little shake. "Likewise," he said. "I'm sorry this night didn't exactly turn out like you two planned."
Demeter removed one of her hands from his and waved dismissively. "It's alright," she said. "These things happen."
Do they? Mistoffelees wondered. This seemed like the sort of situation that was rather unique, but he just smiled as she released his hand. At his side he could see Munkustrap and Macavity at the end of their own firm handshake, exchanging the same 'it was nice to meet you' pleasantries.
"Have a safe trip home," Munkustrap said in parting, as the valet pulled up with Macavity's car.
When the red tom and golden queen disappeared into the Rolls-Royce, Mistoffelees let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding in.
Munkustrap slid into the driver's seat, sliding the key into the ignition and making sure the engine actually turned over before putting on his seat belt and settling in. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Mistoffelees slumped in the passenger seat, looking utterly exasperated.
"Tired?" he asked as he pulled out of the parking space he'd found at the back of the hotel's lot- he had no desire to pay the exorbitant prices for the sake of convenience.
"Exhausted," Mistoffelees breathed, only barely remembering to put on his seat belt. "Between rehearsal and that, I just want to go home, take a hot shower, and sleep."
"I'm sorry about all of that," the silver tabby said with a grimace, glancing at his young tomfriend out of the corner of his eye. "If I'd known-"
"It's alright," Mistoffelees said, rubbing the back of his hand. "You couldn't have known. Demeter couldn't have, either. Anyway, it's behind us now."
Mistoffelees' hand dropped from Munkustrap's, his eyes sliding shut, but the tabby was curious enough that he couldn't simply let things rest.
"You never mentioned having- problems with your father," he said offhandedly, watching the street signs carefully for the turn he needed to take. From the passenger seat, Mistoffelees grumbled, but it was more from tiredness than from annoyance.
"Until tonight, I hadn't seen him in ten years," he said plainly. "I'd moved past the 'problems' stage and into the 'forgetting about his existence' stage."
Hard to do when you're sitting across from him at the most expensive restaurant in the city, Munkustrap thought, accompanied by another wave of internalized guilt at having subjected Mistoffelees to the double date in the first place.
"Is it alright for me to ask, or..?" In spite of the fact that they'd been dating for a good few months now, the more delicate areas of the topic of family were rarely breached. Munkustrap was well acquainted with Mistoffelees' sister, with whom he shared a flat, knew that Mistoffelees' mother had died a few years prior, and that his parents had been separated for quite a few years before that; similarly, Mistoffelees had met both his father and his brother, and knew that his mother had taken off when he was still a kitten. Beyond that, they'd only discussed family in idle conversation, such as this relative or that relative getting married, or having kittens, or going through a messy divorce; nothing so close to home as an absent father, although Munkustrap felt he could distinctly relate.
Mistoffelees sighed, ears twitching as he stared out the window. "Well, he and my mother split up when I was twelve, but you knew that already," he said, watching the lights sailing by. "I guess it wasn't like a lot of divorces- there wasn't any yelling or arguing or.. anything, really. He and mum didn't talk to each other much back then because he was always busy with work, but that wasn't anything new to us. Then one day he was just.. gone."
As Munkustrap turned onto the street that would take him to Mistoffelees' flat, he spared a glance over at the small tux. "Just.. out of the blue?" he asked.
Mistoffelees nodded. "Not an ounce of warning, just left for work one day and never came home," he replied. "My mother must have known it was going to happen, because she took me and Victoria aside to talk about it, but we didn't have even the slightest indication. The best part, though, was the fact that not once did he try to contact either of us. For all I knew he could have been dead."
"That's.. terrible," he said, not sure what else he could say to the young tom. "Not even once?"
"Not even a birthday card," Mistoffelees said with a shrug. "I guess at some point he and Victoria must have gotten in contact, probably after mum died.. but that was the first time I've so much as heard a word out of his mouth since I was twelve." There was a pause as he rested his forehead against the cool glass of the window, then, "I never even knew why he left. Mum didn't talk about it at all. I spent years thinking it was my fault that he left.. stupid to think about it that way now, but I was just a kit then."
Munkustrap gave him a sympathetic look, as best he could while still keeping his eyes on the road. "It's not stupid," he said softly, just as they pulled to a stop at a red light. "You deserved better."
He could see the first hints of a smile on Mistoffelees' face as the light changed and they continued on their way, but he couldn't help asking just one more question. "So him and Demeter- do you think..?" The actual question went unspoken, but Munkustrap could tell Mistoffelees had picked up on it. His response was, at first, nothing more than a shrug.
"I don't know," he replied honestly. "Like I said, I haven't talked to him in ten years. And I'm- more than a little biased. But I can tell you one thing: not once can I ever remember him looking at my mum the way he looks at her."
Munkustrap pulled the car up to the curb outside of the block of flats where Mistoffelees lived, and the tuxedo reluctantly unfolded himself from the rather uncomfortable-looking position he'd assumed during the drive. Unbuckling his seat belt, he leaned over and kissed Munkustrap over the car's stick shift.
The silver tabby gently stroked the headfur between his ears, which invoked a little involuntary purr. "I'm sorry about tonight," he repeated, pressing another quick kiss to Mistoffelees' lips. The younger tom ran a thumb over his jaw, giving him a halfhearted smile.
"At least you were there. That made it easier," he said honestly. "I just.. need some time to recuperate. I'll see you for lunch on Wednesday?"
"Of course," Munkustrap said as the tiny dancer climbed out of his old clunker of a car, blowing him another kiss as he dashed to the front door of the complex and fumbled for the buzzer. Once his sister had buzzed him in and he was out of sight, Munkustrap let out a sigh, threw the car into gear, and drove off in pursuit of the same thing as Mistoffelees- a hot shower and his own bed.
The car ride home from the restaurant had been one spent mostly in silence, with Macavity being caught in a sort of rapt contemplation that Demeter was reluctant to interrupt, but once they were in the elevator headed for the top floor she felt as though she couldn't remain quiet any longer.
"Well, that evening was all sorts of awkward," she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. She caught the edge of a toothy grimace out of the corner of her eye.
"I apologize for that," he said in turn, adjusting his shoulder so she could rest her head on it more comfortably. "My children don't hold me in the highest regard. I left when they were quite young, and I don't think they've ever forgiven me for it- Mistoffelees especially. Which is all well and good, because I've never forgiven myself for it, either."
She thought the soft look of remorse on his sharp features clashed, but in a pleasant way she didn't get to see very often. "Why did you leave?" she asked, unable to quell her rampant curiosity.
Macavity gave a one-sided shrug. "Their mother and I simply didn't feel that strongly about each other anymore," he replied. "And I was just so absorbed in my work that we mutually thought it best that they stay with her. I regret not talking to them more over the years, but- what's done is done. No changing the past."
The elevator slowed to a stop with a pleasant ding and the doors opened on Macavity's front hall, where the pair deposited their coats. As they stepped into the foyer, Demeter stopped and took Macavity's face in her hands, running her thumbs along the ridges of his cheekbones.
"I'm sorry I dragged you out there tonight," she said. "I didn't mean to stir up something like this. Munkustrap didn't, either."
Macavity took one of her hands in both of his own, kissing her knuckles. "I know," he said softly. "It's alright. I think it was more difficult for Mistoffelees than it was for me, anyway. He's gone to great lengths to avoid me over the years."
Demeter raised an eyebrow as they stepped into their bedroom, Macavity undoing his tie as she lifted each foot to pull off her high heels. "What kind of lengths?" she asked.
"He left his mother's viewing early because his sister told him I was on my way," he replied simply, as though he were discussing the weather. Demeter cringed at the thought, sure that there was some element to the story that Macavity was leaving out to draw a reaction like that from his son, but not wanting to pry- not yet, at least. It was hard to tell because of his striking natural markings, but she could see the dark rings around his eyes.
"What's your day like tomorrow?" she asked as she moved over to the vanity and returned her necklace and the diamond studs in her ears to the proper place in her jewellery box.
"Hectic," he replied with a half-concealed yawn, as his suit jacket and dress shirt were deposited neatly on the end of the bed. "In the morning, at least. I have early meetings- my schedule should clear up in the afternoon, though. And you?"
"I work the dinner shift," she replied, stepping out of her dress and hanging it up on the hangar she'd left on the closet door. Laundry would be dealt with tomorrow, when they weren't both so tired.
"I'll drive you," he said, stepping up behind her so he could wrap his arms around her collarbone and press a kiss between her ears. She leaned back against him momentarily before shooing him off so she could peel away her pantyhose.
"You don't have to," she insisted, but it was a dialogue they went through regularly. They both had busy schedules, so even moments like being driven to work were more than welcome. She whirled on him, pressing one hand flat into the fur on his chest. "What you do need to do is get to bed. I don't want you falling asleep in your meetings tomorrow."
With a laugh, he leaned in for a kiss. "Yes ma'am."