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A Questionable Sandwich	By : chroniclyflaming Category: Dragon Ball Z > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 2112 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 1-A Questionable Sandwich
- 1
A questionable sandwich: Piccolo/Goku/Chichi

The 'My Gay BFF' prompt has made me crave Goku/Piccolo/Chichi. All smooshed together.

Because Bulma was right in her suspicions, dammit!
As for the whole Namek/gender/hermaphrodite/asexual logistics of it - whatever shizzles your nizzle.
Go crazy, even if you don't want to write smut, a little fluff wouldn't hurt.
And 200 points if we get a little something from Gohan's POV.

The fill:

He honestly didn’t mean to have walked in on them, in the bedroom. He’d been warned about that, plenty of times when he’d been littler, but his Dad had been gone for awhile now, and Gohan eventually just sorta forgot about having to knock a bunch of times and wait before yanking the doorknob. Which was careless of him, but didn’t explain any of the stuff he saw. But he’d heard the radio on earlier that morning, and thought that meant they were awake.

Why would Piccolo, who didn’t really sleep very often, be sleeping in his parents bed, with Chi-Chi and Goku on either side of him? He’d never, never heard his old Master scream like that when catching sight of his pupil standing there in the doorway. The alien had even pulled up the sheets with a huge rip of cloth that made Gohan wince, since his Mom hated it when stuff would get torn up. Then his parents were screaming, or at least his Mother was really, really freaking out while Goku just sounded apologetic, asking him almost politely to leave. He’d taken in the green chest, and the way his Mom held a pillow to her own chest, yelling, yelling at him to go while her face got all red. A radio lay in pieces around the bed.

Piccolo looked ready to be sick, unable to look away from Gohan. All scared, which made sense, because Piccolo probably had a bad dream or something, and that’s why he was there.

His Dad had been the one to gather some of the sheet and scoot off the bed, grinning a little sheepishly, leading him out with the white fabric hanging off him like a skirt. He’d taken Gohan’s shoulder and led him back to his bedroom, saying little stuff like ‘it’s not a big deal’ and ‘maybe don’t tell anyone about this, since people get weird about that stuff.’ Which again made more sense, because if the others heard that Piccolo had nightmares and needed to crawl into bed with Gohan’s folks, just like he’d do, they’d all laugh at him. And Piccolo’s ears would go purple like an eggplant, when Chi-Chi would make some comment about him and Goku would laugh and nod.

Goku adjusted his skirt, and seemed to be looking for the right words, and Gohan fidgeted outside his room. He’d woken up early, and had just wanted to know when breakfast was, and his Dad nodded to that. Understanding. “Your Mom will make something in a little while. Can you wait, just a bit, sport?” Then his father ruffled his hair and made Gohan smile and nod. “Sure, Dad.”

While behind them, Piccolo and Chi-Chi were screaming, wordless, horrified by being found like that. Then yelling stuff about it being the other one’s fault, “I didn’t even want to be here!”

“Oh, please, like you didn’t beg—“

“Shut up! I didn’t even want that—I was curious—No--”

“Just demanding that we both—“

“You’re the one that wanted to be. Pinned!”

“--Can’t believe you let me be found like that, before my poor little boy!”

“This was an awful experience. Neither of you even knew what to do!”

“Oh, shut up! Like either of us had seen something like that before—“

“Arrghgh.”

“I should never have taken you into this house! Pervert! Disgusting degenerate pervert!”

Until Goku yelled back that from his son’s room, “Gohan didn’t see anything!”

And then Piccolo and Chi-Chi were screaming at him to get back here, and to not say a word to Gohan, to just shut his mouth and get right back in this room, right now, Goku!

Goku had just shrugged, “Okay. See you later, Gohan.”

“Yeah, Dad.”

Gohan had mostly done his best to put it from his mind, trying not to laugh at poor Piccolo, who looked almost lime-green at the breakfast table, he was so pale. His mother was all grey-faced, knocking things over and letting stuff fall. His Dad caught the plates and food and everything, but it wasn’t like her to mess up her cooking that badly. Only Goku smiled and interacted with him, all at ease at the breakfast table that Piccolo was staring at like he hoped it would eat him up.

“Gohan,” his mom finally said, rubbing at her face. “Could you go to your room now?”

She didn’t even say anything about studying or homework, so Gohan left the kitchen confused. He didn’t really want to hear about Piccolo’s upsetting dream that surely had to be, as Krillin would say, ‘totally gnarly and gruesome’ and hair raising. What could scare someone as brave as Piccolo? Probably something to do with the androids. Krillin had even admitted, grayish, that he’d been having some unpleasant dreams about them attacking him, and Yamcha would nod solemnly, and make Gohan even more scared about the future.

But he could hear them yelling at each other, even with the door shut and radio playing, claiming that they hadn’t wanted to do that, that curiosity was a horrible thing, that there was no need to fulfill some weird fantasy since they were training to defeat the androids anyway, that this was all Goku’s fault.

All three of them came into his room, to check on him. Piccolo mostly just looked at his shoes, and his mother was listless, worried, but his Dad was smiling and at ease. Until they heard the station that was on the radio. “What are you listening to?”

He remembered his Mother insistence on only classical music as opposed to his father who loved talk radio and rock music. “Oh, sorry, I was just—“

Piccolo ran from the room, “Not again, not again! That’s the song from before—that’s how they got me the first time!”

“Piccolo! Come back!”

His mother just shuddered, leaning against the door way.

Gohan and his Dad didn’t even end up training, at all. Goku just hung around the house, following Chi-Chi around, saying stuff that Gohan couldn’t hear but for the tone, which was comforting. She kept threatening to slap him if he kept talking, but never did.

The Namek ended up coming back at dinner time, and no one really said anything. No even his Dad, who smiled a bit at him, almost smirked, really. Like Piccolo would ever just leave and miss the chance for more training. Gohan chattered throughout the meal, trying to make up for the silence and way his Mother focused only on pushing her food around the plate.

“You know, I’m glad you guys are getting along.” He smiled, gently, up towards Chi-Chi, who’d disliked Piccolo staying here. She hadn’t even wanted the guy in the house, until Goku managed to convince her it was cruel to leave him outside. “It’s nice. Really.

“It’s like you’re all my family. All three of you are my parents.” He’d half expected his Mom to yell at him over that, but she only stared, intensely, at him.

“Having three parents is nice.”

“I did always want a big family,” Chi-Chi admitted, but nearly jumping in her seat over her words, like she was trying to catch them before they escaped.

Piccolo was turning to some disgust/anger, meaning he was feeling better. But he was still missing his big white cape, for some reason.

And Goku just grinned and squeezed his shoulder. “That’s awesome. See. Told you he was fine. Everything’s good.”

“Yeah. I like having Piccolo here.”

His Dad smiled at everyone. There were mashed potatoes on the tip of his nose, but no one had said anything. “We all do.”

Piccolo rubbed his forehead, avoiding his antennas, and Chi-Chi looked at them both deeply, like they were some text in a foreign language that she had to learn.

“So, you’re not going to make him leave, right, Mom? Right? Please?”

Something seemed to crumble in his mother, who could just shake her head over this all. She and Piccolo exchanged odd, mutually miserable looks. “I guess he stays.”

“Great!” Goku slapped at the table, but not hard enough to break it, for once. “This is great. We’re all one big happy family!”

Gohan didn’t know for absolute sure if Piccolo had any bad dreams, but he heard and sensed the guy going back to his parent’s bedroom that night and hoped that they could make him feel better. He guess that they did, since breakfast the next morning was much more at ease, and Piccolo had even smiled a few times, and his Mom wasn’t so grey. During training, Piccolo had actually dug Goku out of a huge pile of snow the Saiyan had gotten trapped under. And he didn’t mind when Goku slapped him on the back in thanks, only blushing purple to the tips of his ears when Gohan’s Dad muttered something under his voice to him. Plus Chi-Chi didn’t argue as much, just mumbled something having two ‘husbands’ might mean that someone else could finally do more cleaning around the house.

And then the next day everyone was even nicer. There was much less tension in the room, and he’d seen Piccolo pouring coffee to a blushing Chi-Chi, who in turn poured him a cup of water. “Since this is definitely all you can stomach.” His Mom still sometimes threatened Piccolo about throwing salt on him, but now he only blushed and looked sheepish, and Goku would smile at them both. All three of them were even kinder to Gohan. There was much more hair ruffling and claims of pridefulness, that he was even a way better son than Trunks was (whatever that meant), that they all loved and adored him.

Though, later, confusingly, they would shoo him out of the house, on claims of needing things from the store, needing more firewood, fresh meat, say, why don’t you go see your old friend Krillin, and then maybe go check on Bulma…?

But when he asked the others, he didn’t get any answer as to why his parents, all three of them, were so strange. Krillin had just shrugged and gone to answer the door for the take-out he had to order to feed him whenever Gohan would stop by. Bulma had gotten a strange look on her face, but before she could say anything Yamcha came into the house yelling about something Vegeta had done (something about shaving off one of his eyebrows), and then Vegeta came in, yelling back at the taller man, until he saw Bulma, and then the Saiyan was running out of the room to everyone’s screams, and so really, Gohan never got an answer. Only more questions, along the lines of ‘what was wrong with all his friends’ and ‘how come Piccolo didn’t get his own bed’ and ‘why was his cape always hanging on the laundry line now’?

In the end, Gohan would just shrug and go walk by the river, reading a comic book, training a little by himself, until he could sense it was okay to come home now.

Well, at least they were all getting along now.
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A Questionable Sandwich