The following is a fictional story involving fictional characters from the television series "Home Improvement." It is intended for the entertainment of consenting adults in the privacy of their homes, and if you object to or offended by descriptions of sexual acts between consenting adults, do not read any further. The sexual orientation and practices depicted in this story do not in any way suggest or reflect the actions or orientations of the characters or the actors who portray these characters.
The phrases Home Improvement, Tooltime & Binford, and all characters are trademarks of and copyright The Walt Disney Company, Touchstone Television and Wind Dancer Production Group.
I want to make something perfectly clear; this is an erotica series. I did not write this to be a quick porn story, or any other cheap form of entertainment. Some installments will be mostly dialogue and scene setting, others will be filled with hot man sex. If you are not interested in reading the actual story, then just skim ahead to the "good parts-" but know you are missing a lot of intrigue and realistic plot lines. Well, that is to say, I have attempted to keep the plot line relatively true to the TV series and reality in general. Anyway... enjoy!
Tool-Men By PsychoPuppy
Part 4: To Every Lock...
The gray light of early morning turned to the harsh light of mid afternoon before the two boys finally awoke form their deep sleep. Tim had made sure Jill left Brad and Randy alone, telling her they had a 'rough night.'
Were Marty and I ever this careless?' Tim wondered for the hundredth time that day as he finished talking Jill out of going up to wake the boys; "It's Sunday, let them sleep!" he had successfully argued. A sudden thought struck him and he could not help but chuckle, I wonder how many times my old man covered for Marty and me.' 2 hours later the Harpy-Queen called out that she was going to take Mark to the mall and then stop off at the library on her way home. A grinch-like smile slid across Tim's face as he bid her a good riddance, then left a note on the fridge door for the boys: "Gone to Harry's. Have fun. Food in fridge. See you later. Love Dad."
Tim's feelings were far from resolved concerning Marty, not to mention his undeniable urges toward other men, but he still managed to smile as he drove away from the house. He was going to the Harry's Hardware after all, a haven from all the woe's of the world.
Not to mention that Harry was kind of cute.
"We need to talk," Randy yawned as he propped himself up on a pillow and faced Brad. He had severely scolded himself for not blocking the bedroom door before going to sleep. Carelessness could land them both in the nut-house, or one of them sent to live with Jill's mom. Randy shivered at the thought.
"About last night?" Brad puzzled hesitantly, "look Randy, I told you, its okay. It's kinda... I dunno... I don't have anything against it, I mean, its better then wasting it." He winked and patted Randy's shoulder.
Taken aback by the rather bold admission, Randy was belated to respond with a snide comeback, so opted to let the comment slide. "No, not about that, sperm-bank." He chuckled, patting Brad on the head as one might a particularly simple child who just noticed the sky is blue. "No, I mean about something that happened before I came in last night."
"Ohhhh... You mean why you were late." Brad grinned, catching on.
"Ya. I heard dad getting outta bed and didn't want to chance gettin' caught if he decided to check on us before going back to sleep. Anyway, listen, after a while I heard him goin' out into the backyard, so I opened my window..."
Brad couldn't believe his ears. His dad had admitted to fooling around with another guy? Tim, the Tool-Man, Taylor had told Wilson that he is getting urges aimed at other dudes even now? To this very day?! Tim TAYLOR?!! HIS dad?!!!
"And that's not all man," Randy concluded, drawing a deep breath before going on, "Last night I think I saw him in the doorway. Watching."
Brad jumped out of bed and ran to the door, muttering a continual stream of explanatives as he moved with the speed of a cheetah on crack. Quickly he began reinforcing the door, preparing to fight for his life when his dad finally came out of the drunken stupor he had probably imposed on himself after watching his own two son's monkey around.
"Brad." Randy sighed, "Brad stop it. BRAD!"
The older boy turned around, nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. "Randy!" He hissed, "This isn't funny! This is... this is life threatening! Oh god, he will disown us, and kill us, then murder us, then...."
Randy moved across the room and slapped his brother squarely on the face. Brad stopped his obscure tangent, startled at the action of the usually timid Taylor. "Look dufas, relax. It was probably just a figment of my imagination. A cum-induced hallucination." Randy chuckled, not very comfortable about openly talking about the more intimate things that happened between the two.
"Ya... you're probably right." Brad agreed, "If he had seen, he would have gone to the garage for an axe, come back up here, and chopped us into Polish Sausage meat!"
Both boys chuckled at the notion, then (noticing the absence of voices in the house) settled down to have some more fun.
Tim drove the road to Harry's Hardware with the same knowing ease he might use while navigating his own garage. The concrete trail was well beaten, perhaps the only path he had memorized to such a degree since his days of walking to school. But despite his best attempts to suppress the thoughts of what he had seen the previous night, Tim just couldn't place it from his mind. His own two sons, going at it with all the lust of young men in heat, just like he and Marty had so many years ago. Marty. A bulge began to stretch his pants and he tried to remain focused on the road.
Al has a brother, doesn't he? Maybe I could talk to him about... nah.' Tim sighed as he almost missed his turn, Damn, why can't I just keep focused? Wilson, the sage himself, said that this kind'a thing is normal. Right?'
Before long Tim was walking through the doorway of heaven...er... Harry's Hardware, where Al was a business partner and worked weekends.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't our most famous costumer!" Al chuckled from behind the counter, banging the service bell a few times to draw attention.
"Harry's Hardware is proud- nono- Honored to present: Tim, the Toooool-Man, Taylor!" Benny, standing beside a box of half devoured donuts, called out followed by the hushed imitation of a cheering crowd.
Tim took the good natured ribbing in stride, knowing secretly of his friends jealously. Everyone wanted to be the Tool-Man. Then, to the corner of the store, Tim caught a glimpse of Marty standing with his back turned, seemingly looking over a new shipment of socket wrenches. Drawing a deep breath Tim snuck over and poked his little brother in the back.
"Hey, watch it, lunkhead!" Marty said as he turned to face Tim, yet averted eye-contact.
"Hey yourself stranger. Whas'a da matta' wit'chu?" Tim said, slipping into a very bad- if not downright insulting- Italian impersonation. "You don't call, you don't write-"
"I've been busy." Marty interrupted, the smile fading from his face.
"Ah, Tim, you know that Italian impersonation deeply wounded and offended me." Benny piped up, as much to disperse the tension as to badger his friend.
Turning to face the chubby Italian, who always seemed to be in the Hardware Store but never buying anything, the Tool-Man chuckled and handed him a dollar. "My apologies Don Benny, go grab a coffee on me."
"What? No money for a sandwich?"
Tossing the freeloader a crumpled 5 Tim turned to Al as Benny waddled out of the hardware store. "Al, do you happen to have any of those titanium balanced ionizing wrench?" He inquired, eyes darting about the shelves of tools and shiny objects. A small dribble of drool worked its way to the side of his mouth, but Tim didn't notice.
"Humm... we had some," Al began, looking behind a box of wrenches, "But I think we sold the last just yesterday. I'll go check the back."
With the store now deserted, Tim turned slowly to his brother, whose back again faced him.
"Marty." No response.
"Marty."
"Hum?" came the dour reply.
"Marty, can you at least turn around and look at me?"
With a soft sight Marty complied, yet again averted eye-contact with his older brother. Tim wasn't sure if he should take this as a good sign, or bad. However in the car ride to the store he had made his mind up about one thing: he had to know. He had to figure out how Marty felt about the stuff they used to do when they were his boy's age. Tim had to be sure it hadn't fucked Marty up for life, or caused him pain, or regret. If it did, then the Tool-Man would have to try and averted the same agony from befalling his own sons. How he would do that, however, was totally unknown.
"Marty, listen. I was just wondering, um..." Tim began, noticing the other mans unease. `Why won't he look at me?!' he thought miserably.
"Marty, Wilson lent me his cabin up in the woods and I was wondering if you would like to spend a few days up there. Together." It was now or never. Marty's eyes lifted and he looked at Tim for the first time since the older man had walked into the hardware store. There was a glimmer to his stare... hate? No, not hate. Anger? No... not that. Tim waited, letting the silence stretch before speaking again.
"It...um... it's not a big cabin, but its nice. And there's a small lake almost right beside it. Lots of fish, and no one around for miles. Wilson owns all the surrounding land, or something like that, and wont let anyone else build. But... um... he said I could use it and," He was rambling now, but couldn't stop, "and thought that maybe we could go up there and have some fun. Like old times."
`STUPID!!!' a voice in the shadows of Tim's mind howled, 'How could you have just said that?! Oh please let him not have heard. AUGHHHHH!'
Marty's eyes widened for just a split second, so quickly Tim began to doubt he had seen the flicker of recognition.
"Gee Tim, you know I'm ah..." Marty began, shifting his weight and looking around, "I'm really busy, with the twins, and Nancy, and the new job..."
"Oh." Tim responded simply, his tone soft and devoid of emotion. He turned to walk back to the counter.
Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, its grip gentle at first, but growing strong. "Wait." Marty spoke behind him, his own voice very low.
Tim turned around to look his little brother in the face, straight into the crystal blue eyes that had looked up at him years ago. But now they were laced with the hint of uncertainty and... hope? Was that the glimmer that Tim had been unsure of earlier?
"Tim, I... I need to think about it."
"Sure... sure, hey, no problem." The confidence and joviality bounded back into the Tool-Man's voice even as a grin split his face, "That's no problem. Just gimme a call some time this week, and we can take the long weekend off or somethin.' Okay?"
Marty smiled then, not just a polite business smile, but a real smile. "That sounds good Tim, I'll call ya some time this week. And thanks. For the offer, I mean. Maybe a few days away will do me good. But... but I need to think on it."
"Ya, sure, no problem man. That's what brothers are for, right?" Tim patted Marty on his left shoulder even as the younger man gave his own a final squeeze before letting his hand drop.
"Well, Tim, you are in luck!" Al called out triumphantly, walking out of the back room a short time later, "I just found the last titanium balanced ionizing wrench! And it's a steal at only $59.95!"
"Perfect!" Tim sung out, turing to the counter with a new spring to his step, "Now I wont have to call NASA and beg to borrow theirs again!"
"Will there be anything else, Mr. Taylor?" Al chuckled, noting Tim's new found good mood.
"Nah, I think..." Tim's voice trailed off as he turned around to smile again at Marty, and then noticed the `Houseware' ittems. "Well you know," he began again, walking over to a low row of products, "there might be a couple more things I need..."
Marty watched his big brother pay for his purchases and leave the store, as a puzzled, yet pleased, smile curled the ends of his lips. Well that was weird,' he thought, waving to Al as he headed for the door a few minutes later, Tim and I haven't spend any serious amount of time alone together for years, and now he invites me to a weekend up at the lake. But...' Marty let his thoughts drop, not wishing to deal with the memories and mixed emotions they would only further agitate.
Lately, Marty had been having some very vivid dreams of his own.
Later that day Tim returned to find that both of his boys were still upstairs. Slowly he walked to Brad's bedroom door, listened closely, then knocked. The sound of sudden movement came and went quickly, followed by Brad's semi-steady voice calling "Come in!"
Tim walked into the room to find both his boys sitting on Brad's bed wearing bathrobes, and talking. The window was open and must have been for some time, because the room had been fully aired.
"Hey guy, look'a what I got ya" Time said as he stepped over to the bed, noticing the scent of freshly washed sheets. >From the "Harry's Hardware" bag he pulled thee new doorknobs, each one fitted with a lock in the middle. "Now you boys can each have a little more, er, privacy. Now that you're all getting older, I mean." An uncomfortable moment of silence passed between the three, and Tim noticed that neither of the boys looked him in the eye. Then again, he wasn't sure if he could look either of them in the eye either. Not yet, anyway.
"That's really great dad," Randy said, finally breaking the silence, "Can I help you put them in?"
"Oh, er... nah, I'm okay. It's a small job, nothing to worry about. I got some hamburgers on the way home, they're on the kitchen table. Go eat while I set these up."
The boys left the room with a few extra words of thanks, but a lot of unanswered questions. Randy was sure it could not have been a coincidence that he thought he saw is dad watching them last night, and now he brought home lockable doorknobs. He was worried. Brad too was on edge as they sat and ate their hamburgers in silence.
Upstairs Tim began installing the first doorknob, placing one of the keys on Brad's dresser- and the other in his pocket. By the end of the day his boys were ensured total and complete privacy whenever they wanted it... from their mother.
To be continued...
If you enjoyed this installment of "Tool-Men" please e-mail me (PsychoPuppy21@yahoo.com) and let me know. Remember, the more feedback I get the better I write! If you want to send flames or insults, those are welcome too... I always enjoy a good laugh.