Aragorn looked up from his drawing mournfully. "What?"

"I'm cutting your hair," Boromir repeated.

"By Elbereth, why?"

"You need it. When was the last time you cut it?"

Aragorn had to think for a moment. "The twins shore it very short a few years back.
'Scruffy human negligence', I believe they called it."

"Well, scruffy humans need to cut their hair more than once every few years."

"And you're a barber?" It would have taken an act of faith for him to believe *that*.

"Of course not. There are no barbers in Middle-Earth, what with all the healers being
elves, who seem to have a religious injunction against cutting their hair."

"Boromir..."

Boromir matched his tone perfectly. "Aragorn..."

Damn, he was getting too good at that, Aragorn thought. "Why do you want to do this?"

Boromir shrugged. "Is there a reason why I shouldn't want to?"

"Well, it's not usually something friends do to each other."

"How about lovers?"

Aragorn raised his eyebrows. "Is that an invitation?"

"If you wish it to be."

"And you?"

"I'm the one who said it. Do you wish it?"

"You know I do!" Aragorn did his best not to draw attention to the oh so prominent bulge
in his pants.

"Well then," Boromir said delicately, relishing the look on Aragorn's face. "Either I
can borrow some scented soap from Legolas - I know he has some - and wash your hair
slowly, massaging your scalp as I go. Rinsing your hair off just as slowly by the
riverbank. Brushing it out and then cutting it ever so gently. Every time hair will fall
on your neck or back - did I mention that all good haircuts are done when one's naked? -
I will bend down and blow it off. Your hair is long, it could take *hours* to get it
down to a decent length. And all the while I'll be right behind you, with you in my lap
- all good barbers are naked, too - and in between cuts I'll kiss your neck." Boromir
grinned. "Or, we could fuck."

Aragorn moaned despite himself. "Can we do both?"