His stomach turned, his hands clutched at the steering wheel hard enough that his knuckles were turning pale green. He wasn't a fan of what he was doing, he didn't want to have to go anywhere near Bulmer or deal with what would happen afterward. But if he didn't he would get the chewing out of a lifetime because this wasn't some family gathering he could miss. This was a meeting. With his father's lawyer. About when his father was going to die. Which dear god he wished the old man would already that would save him so much …everything.
"Mister Junior are you alright?" Gohan looked up at his babysitter, clearly concerned with his behavior. He didn't generally see Mister Junior stressed, just angry. Or annoyed. This was a whole new side. His face was tight and his antenna was nearly pressed against his head. Gohan had learned enough about Namekians to know that antenna could be read like faces. And Junior's was saying stress.
Junior rolled his shoulders, attempting to calm himself down a little bit. It wasn't like he would have to see his father, just hear a few things, and talk about what was going to happen to the house. He was sure Kami should get it, but knowing his father…
"I'm fine kid. Family stuff, hopefully, the harp—your mom will understand" if she didn't he wasn't going to have the time to fight with her. Why the hell they hadn't told him about this before today…actually he did know why the hell, if they had told him he wouldn't have gotten out of it. And now he was boxed into a corner of having to go. Why the hell did a Namekian even need a lawyer, he would have thought Kami could have handled everything.
If he thought he didn't understand humans before, pulling into the Briefs driveway only encouraged that thought. Why the hell they needed so much space for so few people he would never know. His family had that much space for a village full of Namekians.
Trying to find the gym was fun. If fun meant he wanted to pull his antenna out of his head and stick them in his eyes. No one answered at the front door of the house, so he and Gohan were forced to walk around the damn place. He had tried Bulma's number, and Chi-Chi's number and no one was answering him, which was just making his irritation grow. Finally, he found Bulma, or who he thought was Bulma half hanging out of what could only be called a spaceship. It was a round metal ball with a single window and what looked to be a door. Bulma's bottom half was sticking out from underneath the thing.
Instead of saying hello, Junior simply walked over and pounded his fist as hard as he could against the side. As he had thought it would, the noise it made was like that of a bell, ringing through the courtyard. Bulma popped out from under the hunk of metal looking rather annoyed. Junior was ready to just ask her where the hell her gym was when he noticed what she was wearing. Her stomach was bare, the jumpsuit hanging around her hips, slung low enough that he could almost see her hip bones.
His face flushed a deep purple and he turned away, holding a hand up to his face so that he didn't have to look at her, "Put a damn shirt on, Woman!" After a moment, he seemed to remember that Gohan was there with him and put his other hand over Gohan's eyes.
Bulma rolled her eyes, putting a hand on her hip as she glared at the pair of them, "I'm wearing a shirt", she looked down at the sports bra, "Or as much of one as some girls where around town, now what the hell do you want?"
"The gym. I need to drop the kid off, now just…tell me where Milk is and we won't have to look at your blinding whiteness anymore"
She snorted, knocking her wrench against the ship to cause another ringing noise, "Behind me and to the left, the building with all of the grunting coming from it. I swear to god it sounds like Vegeta is fu-…" she looked at Gohan before changing her wording, "doing inappropriate things in there. All hours of the god darn day"
"Whatever", still shielding both of their eyes, Junior scooted past Bulma in the direction she had pointed. Once he was sure they wouldn't have to see her anymore, he uncovered Gohan's eyes, "Goddamn women not wearing any goddamn clothes and letting their…things just hang out all over the place"
Gohan had learned to ignore Mister Junior's mutterings, as most of it were words his other wouldn't let him hear or repeat, or just plain confusing depending on the context of what was annoying him. At this moment, he was mainly confused and thought it was probably best to keep it that way. When she was training his mother normally wore less or equal to what Bulmer was currently wearing.
She hadn't been exaggerating about the noises coming from the gym, if Gohan hadn't heard his father training he defiantly would have thought there was something else going on. But he did understand what was going on inside, no matter how weird it sounded.
Junior pushed open the door, the noises only increasing as they entered. As expected of someone with too much money, the gym was state of the art. Or at least, Gohan knew it was, Junior was mainly confused at why you couldn't just bench press a boulder for a couple hours. (His father was rather old fashioned in training. There had been a lot of leaving Junior in the woods to fight a bear in his childhood).
Vegeta was attacking what appeared to be a pole with multiple arms that kept swinging back at him, some sort of fighting robot. Either he didn't want to bother finding a sparring partner or he couldn't find anyone that would go up against him. If he had time Junior would have loved to punch him a few times. The stories Chichi told about what happened when Vegeta came into the restaurant. Not that he cared about Milk she could take care of herself, but clearly Gohan didn't need to see that kind of violence.
"Ah! There's mom!" Gohan tugged on Junior's hand, pulling his attention away from Vegeta (who might have been losing, it was kind of hard to tell but he was getting punched in the face an awful lot).
"Finally…" whatever insult or thought Junior had was pushed from his mind by the sight of Chichi. He was used to her in her work clothes, sweaters, and jeans, mom clothes. He thought that's what she called them. Even if he had ever seen her in anything different, that one time he had seen her before she headed to the gym, it had been in the right context. The restaurant. Mom Milk, restaurant runner Milk, not…this
Her hair was pulled back into a bun though a few tendrils of black hair were sticking to her forehead. Chi-Chi's clothing was worse then what Bulmer had been wearing, a black sports bra whose bottom band had shifted up far enough it was almost under her best. Her legs were encased in black spandex, showing off the tight thigh muscles that she was currently working on. One leg flew up into the air, almost above her head as she kicked at a black punching bag. The force of her kick caused the bag to swing almost in a full circle. Apparently her reaction times were as toned as her legs because when it came around again, she kicked it into a full circle again.
Junior felt his mouth go dry, his stomach involuntarily tightening at the sight of her. He never noticed women before, or if he did it was in the strictest nonsexual sense. Aesthetically he knew that a woman like Bulmer with her…assists were considered attractive to most men, but he never felt that urge or that desire.
Now looking at Chichi, the strength of her muscles on display was giving him something he hadn't had since he was a preteen Namekian who got horny at everything (or Nail. Nail was still like that and no one had any idea why), the slightest bit of a hard on just beginning.
"Hi, Mom!" Gohan again pulled him out of his thoughts, though his eyes were still watching Chichi, the divot of sweat that slid down between her breasts.
She turned when she heard her son's voice, enough of a spin to show him just how tight her ab muscles were as well, barely a roll to be seen. It took a moment but she turned all the way around, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Junior stared, unable to stop himself. Technically after seeing her stop Vegeta he should have known that she had muscle, but this was something else. A fantastic set of washboard abs stood out against the black of her clothing, and as she put her hands on her hips he could see the biceps bulged.
Chichi looked less like a mother and chef and more like a woman who could punch him and make him like it. And oh god how much would he like it if she did. He could see her like one of those women on those fitness magazines he just glanced at, with her arms curled above her head, pulling every muscle tight enough that they stood out against her skin.
"What's up Junior?" She grinned at him, the adrenaline of her work out burning out any desire to insult or fight with him for the moment, "I thought you were okay for the day? Did you come to work out or anything?"
He attempted to speak, but all that came out was confused mumbles. Gohan looked at him, clearly confused at why his friend was acting so strangely. Shaking his head, and still flushed bright purple, he attempted to speak again, "Something came up with my dad. I can't take the kid so I have to leave him with you. You can yell at me if you want later but I don't have the time to deal with this right now"
This being that she was too damn attractive or this being that he had to leave Gohan with his mother. He had actually been looking forward to a normal day, arguing with people at the flower shop. Maybe a little coloring, because he found it to be kind of a relaxing activity. Though he hid it no matter who came in. No one would see him coloring.
Chichi noticed the looked on his face and how hard it was for him to get any words out. She nodded, not wanting to push the issue any further if he was looking this upset about it, "Don't worry about it. Gohan can hang out with Bulmer maybe? I'll be done soon…"
Junior nodded, patting Gohan on his head before turning away. He walked out of the gym as fast as possible, and by Bulmer without a word. It was going to be a hellish time with the lawyer and Kami today.
He spent the whole meeting with his legs crossed, even when he managed to get his hard-on down, the wetness seemed to be spreading between his thighs. He'd never had everything go at once, generally, he got aroused on one end or the other, but to be hard and wet. It was making it very hard to focus. Especially when he hated the whole conversation anyways.
It went just how he thought it would go, his father didn't want anyone to have anything, but his father was always like that and Kami had been given the power of attorney so all it came down to was arguing about who got what. Piccolo wanted nothing. Not even his father's money, he had enough of that on his own. Kami thought that he should, at least, take the house. Junior argued that unless he suddenly had a bunch of tiny Namekians, he wasn't going to be using the big ass house.
IT seemed like they had spent two hours just going around and around in circles not getting any closer to where they wanted to be.
Finally, Kami let him leave, understanding that his nephew had inherited at least his father's stubbornness if nothing else.
And then he was free. Free with his thoughts about just how good Chichi had looked maybe if she could take him in a fight. Maybe it would have been better to argue for a few more hours, nothing to kill a boner like your dying father.