
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13914651.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Dragon_Ball
  Relationship:
      Freeza_|_Frieza/Vegeta
  Character:
      Vegeta_(Dragon_Ball), Freeza_|_Frieza, Son_Goku_(Dragon_Ball), Bulma
      Briefs, Yamcha_(Dragon_Ball), Chi-Chi_(Dragon_Ball), Krillin_(Dragon
      Ball), Master_Roshi_(Dragon_Ball), Tenshinhan_(Dragon_Ball), Chiaotzu_
      (Dragon_Ball), Piccolo_(Dragon_Ball), Son_Gohan
  Additional Tags:
      Sexual_Grooming, Manipulation, Pedophilia, Dubious_Consent, Statutory
      Rape, Intense_social_awkwardness, Massive_social_ineptitude, Referenced
      Goku/Chi-Chi, Referenced_Bulma/Yamcha_(on-and-off), Only_a_few_characters
      actually_get_speaking_lines, Nosy_allies, Piccolo_and_Gohan_are_spared
      the_gross_sex_talk, Goku_has_no_tact_and_also_no_shame_-_EVER, Vegeta
      doesn't_bother_remembering_names_mostly, At_least_half_flashback, Three
      Year_Gap, how_the_fUCK_DO_TAGS_WORK??
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-03-09 Words: 4343
****** Naivete ******
by KrysMcScience
Summary
     Vegeta has never seen anything abnormal about his past with Freeza.
     His tentative allies have to disagree.
Notes
     Technically an old piece, written during a dark time, but since
     tumblr is having a Vegeta/Freeza week (and particularly a Pet/Master
     prompt), I figured I'd dust this thing off and finally post it. I was
     attempting to put a new twist on an old trope. It's up to you to
     decide if I succeeded.
     In case the tags aren't enough, here's a final warning: This shit's
     fucked up.
See the end of the work for more notes
Vegeta doesn’t really recognize any potential problems when the topic comes up.
He doesn’t even really know why he actually joins in on the conversation. It
could be that he’s so wiped out from training, or just content enough from his
recent meal, that the thought of keeping his mouth shut takes just a few
minutes too long to cross his mind. But when the Earth warriors are all
gathered together at Capsule Corporation, on the insistance of Bulma (despite
having only two years left before the androids appear), and start up banter
over intimate affairs after a few untoward comments by the turtle hermit, the
Saiyan prince still finds himself somehow dragged into the whole discussion.
“Hey, Vegeta! Not to be rude, but we’ve kinda got a bet going as to whether you
are or not, so...are you a virgin?”
The word means nothing to him. While he has been more or less paying attention
(if only out of boredom), most of what they’ve actually been talking about thus
far has gone over his head, because the majority of the bizarre words they're
throwing around – 'sex', 'dick', 'cooch', and a plethora of others – don't mean
anything to him, either. He ends up just blinking at the blue-haired woman,
then around at the others, and though he doesn’t offer much of an expression,
they still catch on to his confusion. The scarred weakling he shares the
compound with attempts to help him out with some clarification. “She’s asking
if you’ve ever had sex with anyone, man.”
The helpless little giggle the bald monk gives is mildly annoying to Vegeta. As
much as he knows by now that the humans won’t actually make fun of him just to
be cruel, he still doesn’t care to be laughed at. “I think just having to say
that is a good enough answer, isn’t it?” the monk jokes, and the look he sends
the prince’s way is equal parts playful and apologetic.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vegeta grumbles finally, rolling his
eyes and sinking back further into the couch cushions. He crosses his arms and
doesn’t look at any of them, feeling somewhat belittled, even if they haven’t
outright teased him for his ignorance. A few of them chuckle, driving him on
the verbal defensive, but the room goes strangely quiet when he grunts, “Stop
expecting me to understand your gibberish words.”
The quiet brings him to glance around, wondering if he’s somehow said something
wrong. Earth inhabitants are occasionally upset by what he has to say, even if
what he’s saying is completely ordinary and inoffensive. That doesn’t seem to
be the case this time, though. The women are incredulous, much as the old
hermit and ex-bandit, like they can’t quite believe their ears, while the monk
and the three-eyed warrior just appear surprised. Only the triclops’ partner
and Kakarot look unfazed, the latter even sporting a mildly curious expression
on his face.
Having so many people stare at him has Vegeta’s face warming, annoyance
creeping up, and he wishes he’d left the room with the Namekian (who’d taken
the half-breed brat along with him) as soon as the topic had been broached.
“What?” he bites out at them irritably, arms tightening over his chest, and
near him, Bulma shakes her head as if to clear it.
“Are you seriously saying you don’t know what sex is?” she asks him in
bewilderment, like it’s really a huge deal that needs to be addressed.
Or maybe it is? Vegeta honestly has no idea.
When Vegeta only shrugs one shoulder noncommitally, and goes on to either shrug
or shake his head at each additional question the humans pelt him with to
further confirm his lack of knowledge, Kakarot finally takes it in himself to
speak up. “Come on, guys. If he doesn’t know, askin’ him about it ain't gonna
do you much good, is it?” He grins at Vegeta then, and, before he can be
stopped, follows up with what he surely thinks is a helpful explanation. It’s
only what he says that keeps the prince from scowling at him. “Sex is when you
get naked with someone else and mash your private parts together for fun,”
Kakarot tells him, grinning without any shame at all as he gives a far-too-
obvious flap of a hand down towards his own crotch. “It feels great!”
His wife makes an awful face at that, even worse than the psychic runt, but a
few of his friends laugh; Bulma like he’s being ‘cute’, the monk and hermit
like the words are just what one would expect from Kakarot, and the scarred
moron like he can’t believe the man actually said that. Vegeta doesn’t laugh,
or even roll his eyes like the triclops, because regardless of how bad of an
explanation the low-class just gave, it does the trick. He now knows exactly
what the others have been talking about, and what they’ve been trying to ask
him.
The Earthlings apparently recognize that he’s caught on, not that he’s all that
surprised; as soon as Kakarot had finished speaking, the prince’s brows had
raised, expression clearing of any confusion. He’s being stared at again, but
it’s with mixed interest and curiousity this time, so he doesn’t necessarily
mind it. “Oh,” is all he says in response to the other Saiyan – that, and a
mild nod, acknowledging that he understands. It also makes it painstakingly
clear that he’s not altogether interested in the topic, and is even a little
surprised that they're so openly discussing it. Regardless, whether because of
how drowsy or full or content he is, Vegeta isn’t sure, he still adds on
obligingly, “Never heard it called that before.”
Bulma tries to restate her own question then – not that he even knows why
‘virgin’ has to be a word to begin with – but Kakarot’s wife beats her to a
different one. Her voice is louder, and more shrill, in a way that has Vegeta
wondering how the low-class clown can even tolerate her. “What do you call it?”
“I don’t call it anything,” he scoffs, eyes flicking skyward.
She’s not dissuaded by the comment, pressing on, “Well, what did other people
call it, then?”
Already bored with the topic, Vegeta shrugs one shoulder again, expression far-
off as he recalls old figments of memory, not even looking at any of them when
he answers. “Stress relief, mostly. Or ‘playtime’, when I was younger. That was
what Freeza called it, anyway.” He’s not expecting the silence that sweeps the
room, but it doesn’t really occur to him as something to be concerned about
until he lowers his gaze.
The others are staring at him in barely-concealed horror.
For a moment, Vegeta thinks he must have made one of those offhand comments –
not rude or strange to him in the least – that tend to ruffle the delicate
sensibilities of those raised on Earth. But when Bulma speaks up, nervous and
careful, as if thinking what she has to say will offend him, Vegeta isn’t quite
so sure.
“Did he...do something to you?”
He can’t help but snort at that. “Wow. That’s specific.” Bulma winces a little,
biting at her lip like she can’t figure out how to say what she wants to, and
she ends up looking over at her on-and-off mate in a silent request for help.
The idiot just makes a useless gesture – ‘What do you expect me to do?’ it says
without words – before turning to the only person he seems to think will be
able to do anything.
Brow furrowed, as if he’s not sure what to think of what’s happening, Kakarot
merely shrugs and asks Vegeta straight out, “Did you and Freeza have sex?”
Of course they did – many times. It’s such a dumb question, with such an
obvious answer, that Vegeta just rolls his eyes and nods. It’s easy for him,
admitting something that doesn’t matter, but it apparently matters greatly to
everyone else in the room. Most of them are fidgeting, clearly feeling awkward,
exchanging uncomfortable glances or watching him with a range of emotions that
he doesn't particularly appreciate.
Dismay, disgust, concern...pity...
Vegeta feels suddenly overwhelmed, realizing that what he sees as a simple fact
might not in actuality be so simple – not when his tentative allies are
reacting to it in such a way – and that realization isn’t helped by Kakarot’s
next question.
“Why?”
Once the word sinks in fully, all the prince can do is stare at his subject,
confused and uncertain, unable to procure such an easy response the way he had
before. Why? Because...because...Vegeta doesn't really know. It was just a
thing that he and Freeza had always done, something that had been inevitable
from the start of their relationship, an outcome certain to pass ever since his
lord had called him ‘cute’, back when he’d been placed into the tyrant’s arms
by his own father. Vegeta had grown used to Freeza’s constant presence whenever
he wasn’t out on assignments for purging, because the man seemed to enjoy
fawning over him. And despite the annoyance it brought, the Saiyan couldn’t
deny that life in the planet trade would have been harder for him without the
dictator so often acting as his shadow.
Freeza ensured Vegeta always got enough to eat – would sometimes even allow him
sugared treats if he behaved. He escorted the boy to the training facilities –
sitting and keeping watch every so often, offering plenty of advice and
encouragement. He guided the prince through educational exercises – math,
science, economics; any subject the tyrant excelled in, which was most of them.
Sometimes he even involved himself in the Saiyan’s grooming – those times were
among Vegeta's better, happier memories. He could recall them easily; hot baths
with sweet-smelling bubbles...gentle hands scrubbing away the blood, sweat, and
grime...soft and fluffy towels enveloping him in a warm bundle...
The tyrant was always incredibly thorough in Vegeta’s grooming, citing that
hygiene was important, and the prince’s appearance afterward had seemed equally
important to him. The boy’s hair and tail fur would be combed neatly for once,
just before he’d be helped into a freshly cleaned bodysuit, and the armor that
came with it. And every time, without fail, Freeza wrapped up the whole routine
with a kiss to his forehead.
It all happened so often that it never occurred to Vegeta to think of it as
strange, especially when every instance was always punctuated by the concern
his lord expressed. No one else was lifting so much as a finger to raise the
young Saiyan – “This just won’t do,” Freeza would say now and then – and so
that left the task to his employer. It seemed so reasonable, and felt natural
enough, that Vegeta saw nothing out of the ordinary in occasional fond touches,
or being propped on the lizard’s lap, or having the man’s cold lips against his
cheek or forehead.
The slow progression from simple closeness to more intimate contact hadn’t
seemed out of the ordinary, either. It had felt casual, normal, having Freeza’s
hands smoothing over his chest, or along the curve of his hip, just simple
things his lord would do every now and again to show him affection, something
he had been otherwise cruelly denied from anyone else, and sorely lacked at
that age. Vegeta hadn’t minded, had in fact secretly relished having another
person lavishing him with attention – positive attention, no less – and so he
hadn’t offered any protest. Even though he’d still hated Freeza on principle,
the touches were harmless gestures as far as he was concerned; almost a comfort
to him, in fact.
So when those touches eventually turned more daring, lingering over sensitive
spots and drawing forth a pleasant heat in his center, Vegeta hadn’t minded
then, either. It felt nice, having Freeza’s hands on him, and he saw no deeper
meaning to any of it. At that age, just shy of eleven standard years, the
prince hadn’t had any idea of what sex was, or what such intimacy normally
entailed, so all the gentle caress of icy fingers over his covered nipples and
groin meant to him was a subtle tingle, one that both he and his body found
fully agreeable. If Vegeta was being honest, he’d actually rather liked it.
And as time wore on, and Freeza became less concerned with restraint, willing
to slip his hands under fabric to wander directly over the Saiyan’s skin,
Vegeta found that he liked that even more. The pleasure his lord gave him
didn’t change anything, nor did it make the prince hate the tyrant any less. It
did make him more willing to tolerate the man’s presence, though, and to behave
more civilly towards him, wanting to avoid discouraging the more enjoyable
moments they shared together.
Freeza wasn’t one to reward poor behavior, after all.
With his lord becoming more bold, and the touches more intense and pleasurable,
it wasn’t long before Vegeta found himself waking up to his bed shifting after
the lights had gone out. Hands explored, all over, the prince keening his
appreciation, and he’d only been further elated when Freeza’s mouth joined the
fray – lips on his own, tongues tangling, and then wetness along his neck. It
only got better from there, having teeth nipping at his shoulder, trailing all
the way down to his chest, and Vegeta had especially enjoyed having his nipples
teased, nibbled and licked and suckled until the skin there tingled at every
touch, his blood alight with craving and breath coming in short bursts. Having
a hand between his legs after that, stroking and squeezing right where instinct
screamed he needed it most, had swept away any and all remaining thought left
in the Saiyan's mind.
He couldn't have resisted even if he'd wanted to.
The tyrant had spent the entire night with him, kissing and caressing him until
he was brought to an explosive orgasm, his very first, and when his cries had
died down, Vegeta had simply laid there in a haze of bliss, utterly content to
let Freeza do as he pleased.
The lizard hadn’t taken him then, was still mindful of how and when to push for
more - “I don’t want to frighten you, my little prince...” - but that night,
and for the first time, he’d focused on his own pleasure, as well. Settling
between Vegeta’s legs, Freeza had rutted his barely-sheathed member up against
the boy’s rear, making sure to keep his ward fully open to his attention,
driving him once more to the brink of sensation and beyond, then doing it all
over, again and again, each climax seeming better than the last. When his lord
finally finished, seed coating the skin just shy of the prince’s entrance, it
was with Vegeta clinging desperately to him, deep in the throes of his own
release and moaning into the tyrant’s mouth.
If everything that had passed between the two before then wasn't an indicator
of the kind of relationship they would have, that moment sealed it.
It also sealed how his nights on Freeza’s station normally went.
More often than not, he would wake up to darkness and the shift of his
mattress, cold hands peeling away his bed-clothes – up until the point he
decided to stop wearing them, at least – and an even colder mouth hungrily
claiming his own. Vegeta lost count of how many times it happened, having
Freeza slip into his cabin in the dead of night, eager for the pleasure they
shared, but he never complained. He had no reason to, for he slept better
afterward, and deeper than usual, once he was nestled in the overlord's arms,
dreams – nightmares – lost to the sheer exhaustion left in the wake of their
play.
His lord always called it ‘playtime’ when he mentioned it – up until the Saiyan
proclaimed his maturity and 'playtime' became 'stress relief' – though he only
ever spoke of it in times they were alone together. He’d told Vegeta that it
was a private matter, just between the two of them, something that was
dreadfully improper to discuss with others, and the prince hadn’t thought to
question it, because he’d never heard anyone else speak of such affairs,
either. “Ready for playtime?” he might be asked; not that Freeza even needed to
ask, because the boy nodded every time. Why wouldn’t he? It was fun, and it
felt great!
By the time Freeza started acclimatizing the prince to penetration, fingers and
tail teasing him open in ways he could never quite get enough of, Vegeta was
more than willing to play along with whatever new game his lord might dream up
for their private enjoyment. Just before the initial insertion, before he’d
spread his legs for the tyrant of his own volition, drunk with lust and
undeniably curious, the Saiyan had been asked one simple question. The words
had ensured that he never felt any fear when he was with Freeza, never grew
uncertain or discomfitted around him. Not when they were alone together, at
least, and fully exposed as they were.
“Do you trust me, dearest?”
Why wouldn’t he? Nothing in their play had ever harmed him; had only ever
brought him great pleasure, in fact. With that knowledge in mind, Vegeta had
nodded, and Freeza’s reward for his answer only served to delight the boy, just
as expected. Nerves already strung achingly high, the tyrant having lavished
him early on with enough attention to leave him trembling with desire, Vegeta
wound up screaming in ecstacy the moment his lord's touch teased its way inside
him. Freeza had purred his approval, having the prince rocking down on his
fingers – needy and hungry for more – and as he brought the boy closer to
climax, he whispered of how good the Saiyan was, how lovely and amazing; his
cherished prince, better than all others...perfect.
With those words ringing in his ears – good, lovely, amazing, cherished prince,
better than all others, perfect – Vegeta was brought to yet another orgasm in
Freeza's arms, shaking in rapture and, of his own volition, initiating a kiss
with his lord for the very first time.
The Saiyan still despised his employer, and always would...but he couldn't deny
that he loved what they did together.
The more open and agreeable Vegeta became when they were alone, the more Freeza
was willing to introduce his prince to. Some parts weren't as fun as others at
first, the tyrant slowly coaching him on how to give pleasure in return, but
the boy warmed up to it in time. All it took in the end were plenty of fond
looks, gentle caresses, and encouraging words, flattery and praise that had him
glowing with a different kind of pleasure, the young warrior's reluctance
crumbling beneath the cunning hands and silken voice of his employer.
He wound up particularly fond of laying on his belly before the tyrant, having
gentle hands threading lovingly through his hair as he kept his mouth and
tongue busy, aiming to please as all the while a sleek tail thrilled him from
within, easing slowly out and then in again to hit his most sensitive spot
every time. Vegeta had even found himself growing to enjoy the taste of his
lord's essence, body warming with lust simply to think of that bittersweet salt
on his tongue, for Freeza had made sure that it only ever signified additional
pleasure in the Saiyan's mind. Every time he'd opened his lips to take in the
overlord's thick member, lapping and sucking and swallowing greedily around it,
Vegeta had been thoroughly rewarded with the blissful filling of his backside,
and with skilled fingers roving over his heated skin to roll and pinch at his
touch-starved nipples.
Soon enough, the Saiyan was brought to moan with rapture simply at the feel of
Freeza's hard flesh sliding between his lips, at having the emperor's taste on
his tongue, and his lord praised him all the more for it. The harder Vegeta
would strive to please, the more he was praised and pleasured in return, until
he would sometimes drop to his knees of his own accord, mouth watering and a
sensual purr winding in his throat as he worked at the man's arousal,
desperately craving the spill of his seed.
The first time he'd done it, Freeza had laughed, a dark and satisfied chuckle
that sent shivers of anticipation down Vegeta's spine, all the way down to the
tip of his tail. Something in the sound had been sly, almost victorious, but
with his mouth around his lord's member, long and large and mind-blowing in all
the best of ways, the prince hadn't been able to care. He'd been more turned on
in that moment than he'd ever been in all of his fifteen years of life.
The moment he'd finished, licking from his lips every last drop of the tyrant's
essence so he could swallow it all down with a moan, Freeza had carried him to
bed – his bed, not Vegeta's – for an entirely new kind of fun. The prince
hadn't been fully satisfied, had needed more, and he recalled asking for it,
for the lizard to fill him up, to bring him to that dazzling flash of what was
surely the closest thing to heaven the boy would ever get.
And Freeza had delivered.
By gods, had Freeza delivered.
Vegeta hadn't expected it, not even when he'd harbored his own secret
fantasies, thought and dreamed of what it might be like to be penetrated – not
from the front, but behind – with his lord's perfect member. So when his ankles
were pressed over his head to leave him pinned and open, when one swift stroke
of a finger had his needy entrance slathered in oil, letting Freeza squeeze
inside his prince with one long and deep moan of complete and utter
satisfaction, Vegeta had screamed himself raw, coming with bursts of stars
behind his eyes after not even five hard thrusts of that gloriously thick
shaft.
The tyrant spent hours with him that day, fucking him into mindless, blissful
oblivion, and the boy had loved every minute of it. He even encouraged it and
begged his lord aloud – more, please, harder, faster; right there,right there!
– wailing in ecstacy every time his lord spilled within him, setting off his
own release each time and without fail. Playtime became a nightly ritual after
that, and once the game was over, the young prince would settle comfortably
against Freeza's chest to fall asleep, no longer in the cabin assigned to him,
but safely within the dictator's own personal suite, large and luxuriant and
everything Vegeta believed he deserved to have.
And so it had gone on, each and every night he'd spent aboard the tyrant's
station, for many long years after.
Still, he didn't love Freeza. The hatred Vegeta held for the lizard never
lessened from the moment they'd met, only changing shape to form an odd sort of
conflict, comprised of far too many simultaneous emotions at once. Respect and
disdain, attraction and disgust, comfort and unease, understanding and
confusion, acceptance and frustration, generosity and envy...all of those and
more, melded into one solid feeling that rushed to the forefront whenever the
Saiyan found himself faced with his employer.
Whatever that feeling was, he still called it hatred. Which was why it was no
trouble at all for Vegeta to leave, glad to learn of a way he could have his
greatest wish granted, and just as gladly looking forward to having the hated
lizard fall before his power. He could admit that he would miss their games,
more than a little, especially when he didn't know how to approach anyone else
in such a way; he'd been taught to keep such matters to himself, after all.
Still, as enjoyable as it had been, having his legs wrapped tight around
Freeza's hips and brought to one burning release after another, in a way that
never ceased to delight him...Vegeta didn't want to spend the rest of his life
that way.
He much preferred the idea of freedom, and control over his own destiny, to
spending every last night he had left tangled in Freeza's embrace.
So in the end, it didn't matter how much he'd loved it.
The Earthlings know nothing of how he'd lived before, though, no doubt
believing that Freeza had forced him into it against his will, and Vegeta has a
feeling that trying to explain what had happened isn't going to help. He can't
even figure out why they're so ill at ease with the idea in the first place,
and he doesn't want to risk asking. When he finally speaks, the other Saiyan's
question still a riddle in his mind, the prince's voice is tentative, and he
doesn't have much to say.
"It...was fun. It felt good. That's...that's why he called it what he did.”
It's not a proper response, not to what Kakarot had been asking, and somehow
Vegeta knows it. But he still doesn't know the answer himself, and now he's not
so sure he wants to think about it any further. If he does, he might discover
that he has to admit that – once again – he'd been made into a victim.
That he had been weak.
Vegeta leaves the room shortly after that. He can't bear the looks the others
are giving him, looks that say without words that he'd somehow allowed Freeza
to take advantage of him yet again, and in a way that he doesn't even really
understand, so he gets up and walks away. The prince has no answers for any of
their questions, can't accept any words of condolence – of pity – that some of
them will certainly have for him, and, most of all, he doesn't want to hear
anything of what they think of his past with the lizard.
What few good memories Vegeta has left have already been tainted enough.
End Notes
     I can't recall ever seeing a fic where Freeza ISN'T sadistic during
     sex. I tried to fix that here, but it I think it just ended up making
     him even creepier. Whoops! :D
     Also, trying to include how Radditz and Nappa reacted to what was
     obviously going on kept messing with the flow, so I stopped caring
     and just wrote them out entirely. Again, dark times. But in case
     you're wondering what the fuck, they knew better than to say or do
     anything about it, because FREEZA.
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