Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of it's characters. I also do not claim to know anything about a real master/slave relationship. This is only a work of fiction and any relationship or or contract of this nature should be entered into with open eyes and more research than reading one fanfic.

Kept
By Cyrelia J


I belong to Quatre. Not... "Quatre is my boyfriend" or "lover" or "partner". No, he's not anything of mine, rather I'm his. I like that way that sounds. There's a sense of permanence to it, nothing mutable or negotiable, just the fact, as solid and unbending unyielding as the collar around my neck. No key no turning back. There's a feel about that sentence. Like it's always going to be there for me to wrap myself in like a warm safe blanket, like it was the one sustaining thing that kept me hoping while I lay awake at night cold or lonely, that one thing I knew someday would be a fulfillment. Not to have someone to think for me or to tell me when to take a shit or when to eat. Hell, I got that being a mercenary. Even at the circus it's kinda like that. Y'know bending over for that bearded sadist and his whip... not literally, but having to answer to like a whole, a community, cause even though he's only one man, he still is representative of some larger sector. No, for me it's like a rush a high, higher than any tightrope, and it's a bigger rush than any knife throwing act.

I remember when i first told Cathy the nature of our relationship she just smiled and said if I was her sister she'd say I was a detriment to the feminist cause. Thinking back it makes me smile a little to know she could be so accepting of something all in all she didn't understand. Though... good thing I was born a male. Naturally I regret my past, but not the present that it led me too. I like myself now. I accept myself, something I really had a lot of trouble with during the war. I didn't have much confidence in anything outside of my abilities as a soldier and even then when Heero Yuy entered the picture every slight flaw in my performance seemed magnified a hundred fold. I wanted to be like him, but I realized I could only be myself. I admit I feel somewhat smug knowing that my own personality hang ups compared to his aren't even a drop in the bucket. Not that it makes me feel good to know the "l word" slips from his tongue about as easily as an admission of pain.

I wonder sometimes if his relationship with Duo is self affirming. If it gives him a good feeling. Maybe it's cruel to even wonder how someone as stunted as Duo can please his partner. Heero's told me before they can't have sex. Can't, won't, I don't really see a difference. If anyone should have such a hangup I think it ought to be me. Yet it's not, it's him... Something about that "filthy act" cheapening their love, and he's sworn on his braid it has nothing to do with religion or morality. It's about freedom, about choice. 'cause he doesn't want to submit. Not submission like who's getting fucked by who. I mean we've all heard of topping from the bottom. No, It's about losing control, giving it, losing it to Heero. He said that with a guy like Heero he'd have to dominate no matter who took it. I guess I understand that. I never thought of Heero as a taker, but then again, I know just like Duo he could never give over full control. I guess that's "equality". Now Quatre, he often tells me how he needs me. Not wants me, not always loves me, but always absolutely needs me, just as I do him. So really, which is the more desirable?

I think that's how to me our relationship is so... just "good". Quatre tells me that his english tutors often criticized him for the use of such a word. Not knowing the particulars I don't really understand why. Duo often said the same thing. That sister Helen said to say "Fine" or "well". Maybe it's a cultural thing. Even so, not having any authority figure to regulate my speech I'll just stick with it. Good. That makes me smile. I feel like I never have. Like I'm important, like a king y'know. Yeah I know it's might seem contradictory, the submissive feeling like the prince, but it's like, the look in Quatre eyes when we're at a public function. The steely look in his eyes when someone comments on my appearance, the slight possessiveness of his arm going around my waist makes me feel not just secure. It makes me feel worthy. When I was younger, I'd often lower or avert my eyes rolling over, baring my throat for anyone stronger than me but now... no I raise my head, look even the most rich and powerful men and women straight in the eye with a look that says, "Yes, I'm his, lay a finger on me and he'll kill you." I don't think I've ever had that level of confidence for. Not that I draw my strength from Quatre's. No, I draw it from the knowledge that to this man, handsome, strong and powerful in his own right wants me enough, loves me enough, needs me enough that he'd kill anyone who dared try and take something that was his.

I know there are a lot of brutal men, brutal masters, but they're nothing more than beasts, violent primitives who are nothing like what I learned truly makes a master. No, Quatre is what truly epitomizes that term. He doesn't command, doesn't harshly bark out some string of crude orders. No he doesn't need to do that to show his strength. I feel it, in the way he tightens his grip on my shoulder ever so slightly if I do something to displease him in public. He never humiliates me even when I embarrass him. Just that silent indicator that lets me know it will be dealt with later. Y'know, sometimes Duo asks me why I let him do it. I mean like why I let him do it, like why I let some little blonde half my size tell me what I should be doing. Well, I'm not like Duo, I don't go in for some knock down drag out fight cause I don't want to be wrong. I think if I argued like that with Quatre, I think I'd feel childish. I wouldn't feel right with nothing but a hastily murmured apology.

That's another thing some people don't understand. It's not just "Poor little Trowa speaks out of turn and gets a spanking." No... Quatre knows sometimes the worst punishment of all is just silence. Silence from me is one thing. Heck sometimes I even forget what my own voice sounds like. But his no, without his it's like static, like white noise and even the loudest music doesn't stop that. Or sometimes if he knows I did something, he doesn't let on, like he'll sit at the dinner table fondly talking to me, feeding me a few little morsels not giving anything away because he knows that the guilt I feel is just so awful. That's why it works what we have. Because of the line of trust that flows between us. I trust him to keep me safe, and never to hurt me, and y'know, I'm not quite sure... but I think he trust me to be honest, not like to answer his every beck and call, but to be mindful. Like he doesn't sit in front of the fridge then ask me from the living room to make him a sandwich. There's no safe word, no saying stop, cause this, it's not just a recreation for a bored business man, it's our life, both our lives imterminglied, intertwined into one. There's nothing wrong with playing it say but hell, I'm used to walking a tightrope. There's no real "off" period for us either, and still one of the things about us is a lot of times he doesn't ask just because he knows I'll do it. No commands or orders, I think that's just how deeply we communicate with each other.

Like helping him undress and get into a warm bath at the end of the day, or sometimes a little spontaneous kiss or caress. He doesn't have to ask, just one of those indicative little looks he gives. I guess not talking much myself I got real good at reading those expressions. That's what makes us different. And when I get sick, that same "hands off my Trowa" policy. It's still there. Yeah he has a mansion with a house full of servants, but he told me once a long time ago, "No one touches you but me ever." Not like in any intimate fashion y'know. I mean he's not jealous, despite that little "hands off" policy, he's not controlling in that sense. I don't feel guilty or awkward if Duo visits us and tackles me to the floor, and he doesn't get mad, hell one of the pictures in our bedroom has that same pose. Yeah "our" bedroom. I may be his, but everything else, that's neither his nor mine. I like it that way.

I hear him calling to me now, just home from work. He doesn't sound tired at all when i answer with a hasty "Coming master!" and these are the nights I live for. When he takes me out, not just to parade me around like a little trophy, but those nights when I get to strap on my emerald collar and watch all the envious looks of those other rich snobs when they see that glittering gold chain attached to his wrist. Not envy of Quatre, but of me. Because that's the most powerful, wealthy, and handsome man in the whole universe. And I, belong to him.

~Owari~