Silk-strong and skin-soft, the ribbon trailed down his back. Starting from his shoulders and wrapping around strong arms. Dark blue, almost black, like a spot of night colouring his golden skin. His lover smiled and let his fingers travel downwards, step-stepping over the little ladders the ribbon had made. A single finger curled around the last loop, brushing knuckle against wrist.

"Such a pretty present," the voice like well-aged whiskey and the darkest of chocolate. "And me 'ere wi' me birthday whole months away."

The silk around grey-blue eyes were as white as fresh-fallen snow. Sean let his chuckle ghost across the shell of Viggo's ear.

"Good thing-" Viggo bit down on his lip, swallowed his gasp, "-you're my present, mm?"

"Well.”

Teeth caught the edge of the white ribbon, pulling it loose. The silk slid across against cheekbones, cloth heated by skin.

Viggo arched his back; a perfect bow.