#leoson

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Late night chill nips at Taekwoon’s finger tips and hepushes his hands deeper into his pockets. Of all the nights for them to bestanding on a pavement, waiting for midnight, the universe would have to throwthem the first properly cold night of the season.

“Five minutes,” Jackson grins around chattering teeth. He’sbundled up in one of Taekwoon’s old coats on account of it being larger thananything he owns himself. Taekwoon, meanwhile, had been foolish enough to thinkthat a jumper would suffice and if Jackson is cold, then it’s nothing on him.

Still, he has his pride. “I’m fine,” he grumbles, whenJackson threads his arms round his waist and pulls him into a back hug.

“Oh please, there’s no use you standing out here freezing todeath,” Jackson hums into Taekwoon’s back. He’s not tall enough to rest hishead on his boyfriend’s shoulders, so his nose presses between his shoulderblades. The warmth of his breath just breaks through Taekwoon’s thin jacket, but it’s enough to take the edge off the cold.

The line’s not all that long, this is no Harry Potter, but afair few people have turned out for the book launch. Taekwoon had passed the shopon the way home from work earlier that day and the girls at the front of theline had already been in place, ready to be the first through the doors to grabthemselves the first saleable copy of The Long And Slimy Road. Jackson wouldhave probably beaten them to it, if it had occurred to him to leave thehouse earlier than eleven pm.

“I’m just saying,” Jackson mumbles into Taekwoon’s back,“you’re staying over tonight anyway. We could just stay up and-“

“No!”

“But we could just-“

“I have to work tomorrow!” Taekwoon smiles somewhathalf-heartedly, “you know I’d stay up all night reading that book if I could.”

Jackson gives a semi-serious huff of annoyance, no doubt alreadyplanning how to sneak into Taekwoon’s workplace the next morning so that theycan read together out back. Then the doors to the shop open upahead and the line starts moving.

Inside, the shop is decked out in garish orange and yellowto match the cover of the much anticipated book. There are posters advertisingit thrown up all over the place, flanking piles of what has to be three hundred copies from the first batch alone.

And there, right by the door, is a lifesized cardboard cutout of the book’s author, Wu Yifan.

“It’s so beautiful,” Jackson groans, when he sees it.Taekwoon can’t even disagree with him. Tall, good looking with full lips and a firm brow, and the greatest snail racer of all time. Wu Yifan really has it all. 

They scurry over to the nearest pile of books and Jacksongrabs the top copy, immediately flipping to the inside cover to check theblurb. Taekwoon pokes his head over his shoulder to get a good look in.

The story of Wu Yifan’s rise to prominence told in full forthe very first time, the way it’s supposed to be told. Starting from humbleorigins racing in local competitions, to international superstardom, to hisbond with best pal Bertha. This is the definitive guide to the world’s mostprominent snail racer.

Jackson snaps the cover shut, and turns to Taekwoon with hisbest puppy eyes. “You have to call in sick tomorrow.”

“I have to get Mildred a bigger tank, I can’t afford it,”Taekwoon replies. Truly, he’s miserable over it, He would far rather spendtomorrow in bed with a book, but such is life.

They take the book to the counter, and Jackson pays, becausesome people actually make enough money racing snails to not need to worry aboutday jobs. Taekwoon shivers all the way back to Jackson’s flat, the only part ofhim not threatening to freeze is the hand shoved firmly into Jackson’s.

  -

 Taekwoon gets woken far too early the next morning by aplate of eggs materialising under his nose. The bedside lamp flicks on andhe flinches away from the light, scrambling to find his phone in the hopes thatturning his alarm off will end this hell.

“Eat up!” Jackson says merrily, pushing the plate intoTaekwoon’s hands and passing him his phone. The alarm has been satisfactorilydisabled and wasn’t supposed to go off for another half hour anyway.

Taekwoon is not amused. “Why am I awake?” he growls.

Jackson seems completely unphased, dropping onto the foot ofthe bed and pulling the book out from behind his back. He’s already dressed,with that bright spark in his eyes that people only manage at this time of daywhen they’ve had coffee.

“I thought we should get started before you had to leave,”Jackson says, opening up the book to the first page, “we have forty fiveminutes of reading time before you have to move, so sit back and eat your eggswhile I read to you.”

“But-“

“No buts!”

Taekwoon’s eyes narrow with irritation, but his body hasstarted spooning eggs into his mouth of its own volition and once he’s made itthat far it’s impossible to back out of this deal.

Jackson clears his throat, slips his glasses onto his nose,and starts to read.

“I’d always had something of a fascination with snails, fromwhen I was a little kid. I think it was something about the way they moved –they’re purposeful little buggers, even if they’re kind of slow.

We used to eat water snails back home in Guangzhou, for the Autumn festival; but it was alwaysthe terrestrial snails that caught my attention. I still remember the day Ifirst saw a picture of a Giant African Land Snail in a school textbook. It was the day I decided what I was going to do with my life…”

  -

 Mildred comes to work with Taekwoon, not because he needsthem there particularly, but he is going straight onto practice at closingtime. He pulls their tank out of his bag and sets it on his desk, where theypeer back at him somewhat reproachfully, tentacles retracted and snubbed. Hefeels kind of bad about the arrangement – the travel tank is not all that large– but it’s more than his job’s worth to let them roam free.

“Aww they’re so cute,” Sandara coos as she drops into herseat at Taekwoon’s right.

He purses his lips, “she’s grumpy.”

“Well grumpy can be cute too.”

“ALRIGHT PEOPLE!” Taeil barks from the front of their row,“I want you all answering phones in the next two minutes. Let’s make a good dayof it.” And just like that, their diminutive boss vanishes behind the dividebetween management and the workforce.

Taekwoon turns back to his computer, scowling. He hatesbeing bossed around.

“It’s just a day job,” he mutters when Mildred shiftsthemselves into a particularly condescending squiggle on the tank wall.

The snail regards him haughtily, as if to suggest that theywould never dream of stooping so low.

  -

 “NO SPOILERS!” Bambam squeals when Youngji bursts throughthe door ready to discuss the entirety of Wu Yifan’s book.

“What do you mean you haven’t finished it yet?” Youngjiscoffs, pulling Solomon out of her bag and setting the still small GiantAfrican Landsnail down on the nearest table. They’re growing into a rathermarvelous specimen, but they have nothing on Boris.

Speaking of Boris, they arrive on Jackson’s shoulder as herushes over to Youngji asking that she refrain from spoiling the book on painof not being allowed to come to the next ‘club social event’.

Yonngji snorts. “Please, the only thing we ever do at thosesocial events is get drunk and get into arguments.” But she shuts upnonetheless.

“Now gang!” Jackson beams at the collective ranks of TheJackson Wang School For Aspiring Snail Racers once everyone’s arrived in thepractice room, “I thought, seeing as how the illustrious Wu Yifan has recentlyreleased a book, it would be remiss of us as a snail racing society to notdedicate some time to reading it.”

“What if we’ve already read it?” Youngji asks

“Then you can shut up and let the rest of us enjoy theride,” Min grins, “take it away Jackson.”

Jackson doesn’t start from the beginning, he picks upexactly where he and Taekwoon left off that morning. Wu Yifan entering his firstsnail race in his home town, his chosen snail a rather pathetic little thing hehad found in his garden that morning and named Woniu.

“To say that I was nervous about that first race is anunderstatement. I was terrified. Everyone else was so much bigger than me, andI knew from following the local racing scene that they were fairly experienced.Still, I put my little Woniu down on that racing table and when the whistleblew we were ready.

They say that half the battle in becoming a good snail racer is choosing a good snail. During my time on the professional circuit I haveseen considerable evidence that this is true. Whether racers switch snailsregularly, or like to stay bonded with a few snails over the course of theircareer, everyone I’ve ever known who’s gone far in the sport has been able topick out a great snail every time. I suppose I am no great exception to this. Woniu triumphed in that first race and to this day, I have not been able tofind the words to express the joy I felt at that moment. To be validated soearly in my career as a snail racer is undoubtedly a key component of mysuccess.

I never knew where Woniu came from, but I can only assumethey were a rather old snail. They died just three days after their big win,and I had to move on to other snails. I have not forgotten what they did for methough, I am truly grateful, old friend.”

 -

 Jackson insists on paying for coffee dates, even ifTaekwoon’s making enough cash to justify splurging every now andthen. He’s not going to pretend he doesn’t feel bad about it, not when Jacksonfunds so many of their dates, but he supposes he can use the money he saves tobuy Mildred some of the organic dandelion food they like so much.

“How was work,” Jackson asks hurriedly as they make a dashfor the last free sofa in the shop.

Taekwoon raises an eyebrow, “you already asked me that.”

“Right.” The flash of a frown crosses Jackson’s face, theway it always does when he’s irritated with himself for not paying attention.“Man that Taeil sounds like a hardass.”

Taekwoon shrugs, “he’s alright. You don’t have to pretend tobe interested, you know. I’m aware I don’t have the most interesting job in theworld.”

“Hey now, don’t put yourself down. I can’t imagine anythingmore interesting that watching you tearing rich housewives to pieces becausethey forgot to read the fine print on their kitchen equipment orders.”

When put like that, Taekwoon has to admit that his jobdoesn’t sound as bad as all that. Still, Jackson is obviously stalling, tryingto contain his excitement and be a good boyfriend before he drags theirattention back to the main event.

Taekwoon leans in to plant a kiss at the corner of Jackson’smouth, “no need to sugar coat it,” he mumbles, “I wanna hear what happensnext.”

It takes all of three seconds for Jackson to whip the bookout of his bag and open it to where they’ve got up to. Wu Yifan has beendescribing the pain of mistreatment by his first major agent, and how tough ithad been to make the decision to leave his him and strike out on his own, as asolo racer.

“It’s all too easy to forget in today’s snail racing worldthat teams used to be the name of the game. Most racers these days are stillpart of a team, but the heart has gone out of group events over the past fewyears. In some ways I miss it, it can be lonely having to stand on the podiumall by yourself. On the other hand I’m glad that the young racers of todaydon’t have to come up in anybody’s shadow.

I know I caused a stir when I decided to leave the EXOsquad, but what can I say? It was important to me at the time. It’s true thatI’ve not kept in touch with the boys from my team. It’s not something I’m proudof, but for my own peace of mind it was necessary back then. The onlyconcession I can make is that I am now ready to talk, so if any of the old gangare reading this, call me sometime.”

  -

 A full two days off do nothing to improve Taekwoon’s moodwhen he wakes the next Monday morning. It’s still dark outside, and they hadstayed up so late last night reading that Jackson is still out cold next tohim. Through the dark, it’s still possible to see Mildred’s slime trailsglistening on the walls of their travel tank, so unceremoniously dumped on a chairacross from the bed when they had gotten home last night.

Eventually Taekwoon’s going to have to insist that they begiven proper shelf space in Jackson’s snail room. It’s apparent that the two ofthem are going to be together for the long haul, and as long as they arecrashing at each other’s places, proper measures will need to be taken to keeptheir snails comfortable. And in kind, Taekwoon’s going to have to make some space for Boris and Doris at his – a far harder task when hisboyfriend’s snails are so much larger than his own.

With a mighty exertion of his biceps and a groan too loud tobe neighbourly at this time of day, Taekwoon tries in vain to get himself outof bed. He comes crashing back down on his pillow with a huff, and doublechecks the time on his phone to be absolutely sure he has to get up.

“Call in sick,” Jackson slurs from the other side of thebed. He’s at his least congenial first thing in the morning and either needs tobe obeyed or ignored. Taekwoon says nothing and tries again to push himself outof bed. It’s no good. He hates mornings at the best of times, he should neverhave allowed Jackson to talk him into staying up so late the night before.

Last night they had covered the most important chapter inthe book, in Taekwoon’s mind – when Wu Yifan found Bertha in a rare animalsmarket and formed the snail racing duo that would define a generation. Hisheart speeds up just thinking about it, the way the book had described thethrill of seeing a snail and just knowing that they were The One. He lovesMildred, and he couldn’t have wished for a better partner, but he also hopes toone day find a snail that he can bond with as hard and fast as Wu Yifan didwith Bertha.

Once he starts thinking about it, it’s impossible to get hismind off the book. It’s about to launch into a tail of snail racingsuperstardom, to get into the nuts and bolts of how the sport took over theworld. It’s been a week since it first came out and they still haven’t finishedit despite their best efforts, and much as Taekwoon knows Jackson would ratherdie than skip ahead without him, he also knows that his boyfriend is getting alittle jittery at the possibility of being spoiled for events further down theroad.

“Fuck it.” Taekwoon reaches for his phone and fires off aquick text to Taeil, informing him that he’s been up puking all night and needsthe day to recover. He switches off the snooze on the alarm and rolls over towrap an arm around Jackson’s waist, “we’re finishing that book today.”