Author's Note: Guess what everyone? I've got my college timetable now and will be starting this week (on the 12th of September). I reckon I'll be too busy to write any more chapters - so I suppose this fiction is finished for now. Who knows, I might add more when I get a spare moment, but it's more likely that if I start writing again then I'll begin a whole new story. Got any requests for later fics? More Barlowen? Any other Take That slash pairings? Any basic plot ideas/outlines? Leave your thoughts in a review if you like or send me a message!

Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed. Thanks for reading! :)

Gary and Mark hurriedly got themselves dressed as they heard footsteps on the stairs outside the spare room. They'd enjoyed a quick but beautifully heated moment of passion - right there on the floor. It was clear that they both knew what they wanted when they were together; holding onto each other and touching each other as if it was a crime to let go. Gary, usually so sensible and rational in his views, had let go of all of his inhibitions and had given in to Mark completely. His head normally ruled his heart, but not in this case. It was as if Mark's eyes and Mark's smile had the ability to switch something on inside his entire being to make him fall in love.

As they both finished neatening themselves up, they stepped outside and into the large main part of the house. Robbie, blissfully unaware, was carrying two small dogs wrapped in white towels. His hair was flat with water and bubbles.
"'Ere boys, that's the last time I wash the dogs by myself. Ayda barely helped 'cos she's just had her nails done or something. Don't you wish you were a woman sometimes, eh? They get all the excuses." He placed the dogs down on the floor where they shook their damp fur and wandered off in pursuit of food.

"No, I'd much rather be a man, thanks Rob," Gary said, suppressing a confused smile.

"Same 'ere," agreed Mark.

"Bollocks Markie, you and your flamboyant scarves and hats. Actually, you should model for my new label. Farrell." Robbie walked over to his laptop and opened a YouTube video. "Look, I actually designed all the clothes myself," he boasted.

Gary rolled his eyes. "Right, are we gonna work on your track now or what? It's just I have to get back to England within the next few days. X-Factor and all that. Bloody demanding, the X-Factor is."

Robbie nodded. "The X-Factor… oh yeah… you've gotta come back here to my place when you get your category. I reckon I'll be well good at helping you find the talent – y'know, as an advisor. Right, anyway, seeing as you decided not to go out Gaz, we can make a start on the improvement of my last track now."

"Nice one mate."

Robbie grinned and led the way up the stairs to his studio room.

Mark put his hand on Gary's shoulder, stopping him.

"Bet it's fun though," Mark said quietly, half-smiling up at Gary.

"What's fun?"

"The X-Factor."

Gary shrugged. "Yeah most of it is a bloody good laugh. But sometimes, I must admit I get pretty damn impatient. I start getting all fidgety like Rob and going, 'Oh for foooook's sake, I wanna break from this here madness, I do!'"

Both men erupted into a short burst of laughter and watched as Robbie disappeared into the studio.

"I'll fuckin' miss you Gary Barlow. I know how busy you're gonna be over the next few months."

The atmosphere had changed rapidly from light and cheerful to deep and saddening.

"Mark, I'll always be at the other end of the phone. You know that."

"I know, I know," Mark whispered, his hand tracing down Gary's face and neck before finally resting on his shoulder once again.

"You drive me up the fuckin' wall sometimes but I'll never stop needing you," Gary said with a smile.

Mark felt his eyes well up so he closed them and took a few slow recovery breaths. He'd never expected Gary Barlow to say he genuinely needed him.

Gary pressed his forehead to Mark's and spoke quietly so that Robbie wouldn't hear from the studio. "When you go back to England, kiss your wife, hug your kids, but never forget."

Mark opened his eyes and gazed into Gary's blue ones. He whispered so softly, "I will never forget."

...

Gary had left for England two nights later. Mark was going to stay in LA for one more day. (Robbie was adamant that they both listen to his new songs over and over.
"I don't want them to get boring after a few listens. They don't get boring do they mate?" he'd asked, almost obsessively.
"No no no, they're amazing Rob - The lyrics to the first few especially!")

The night before Mark was due to leave, he walked outside into the pleasantly warm and still air. He could hear nothing but the insects clicking away in the thick grass. He took off his hat and looked up to the stars. This part of America was stunning in the nighttime. It wasn't chilly and depressing like the UK. The skies were clearer and the stars twinkled brightly. This night was a particularly beautiful one. Mark wished Gary was here to share it with him… to enjoy it. He wished to feel Gary's lips on his. He wished a lot of things. He felt almost foolish now - wishing on stars and all that.

With a sigh, he brought out his phone and sent a quick text to Emma.

It read: I love you baby. See you soon. xxxxx

Mark really did love Emma. Just like Gary loved Dawn. But the truth of the matter was that Emma would never have the effect on him that Gary did. That's just the way it is… that's just the way it always will be.

Mark felt his phone buzz. He immediately expected it to be a reply from Emma, but it wasn't. Gary was calling him. Mark didn't hesitate to press the green 'accept call' button.

"Hello?"

Silence.

"Er. Hello? Gaz? Are ya' there?"

The sound of piano keys drifted through the phone. It was the melody of Take That's song, Eight Letters. Mark broke into a massive smile as he heard Gary's voice sing delicately, "And when I went away, what I forgot to say, was all I have to say: Eight letters, three words, one meaning. Mark Owen, I love you."

End.