Warning for sexual content.

Compromise was not something Luca thought he would ever have to accommodate into his world, but life wasn't about to put up with such a philosophy.

Anyway, it was his fault. Well, not really, but it had been him that started this.

Right, the start. A Caribbean holiday. A hotel room right in the ocean, raised above sea level on wooden stakes. An island that might have been deserted. How could one's life get anymore perfect?

Well, for one thing, he was with the most beautiful girl he'd ever known. The funniest, with the brightest smile. A graceful dancer, Angelique Lalande, full of life and song. She loved him, and she loved the sea. How could this have not been a more perfect moment to combine those two loves on the holiday of a lifetime?

When she suggested they made love in the ocean under the moonlight, Luca had been happy to go along with it. Sure, it wasn't something he'd have suggested- given that he couldn't swim- but the water was shallow and the weather perfect, so why not? Plus, it would've made Angie the happiest woman in the world.

They'd laughed as they stripped in the evening light, tickling each other playfully before he pushed Angie into the sea, tentatively following down the ladder as she splashed him. Yeah, Luca might've squealed as the water hit his bare back [and other places], but that wasn't his biggest embarrassment of the night.

Things had started out well. Very well.

They'd embraced, shared a tender kiss under the moonlight, exchanged words of love and forever. The sea sang them a sweet lullaby, and Angie joined in with her beautiful voice. She could've been a siren about to drag him under, but at that point, Luca wouldn't have minded at all.

They kissed, they caressed, they made love. Pure, sweet, tender. Things were perfect. Angie was in his arms, wrapped around him, in his ear and mind and soul as she buried her face in his shoulder.

But then something brushed against his foot, he screamed, dropped her, climbed back into their hut, and not gone near the water for the rest of the holiday.

Luckily, once Angie had gotten over the initial shock of being thrown in the ocean and left for possible dead, she actually found the whole thing funny. She also didn't make him go in the ocean again.

But when they got home she did ask if they could do it in the shower at some point, as a compromise.

That didn't sound so bad, Luca supposed. He had a fairly large, spacious shower, so things wouldn't get painfully cramped, and all in all it would feel like warm, pleasant rain.

"You've never looked more beautiful," Luca muttered as Angie removed her dressing gown, throwing the thing to the floor and waggling her hips. Her hair was loose, trailing down her back and jiggling as she laughed loudly, presumably about what they were about to do.

"Why thank you," she chirped, "you look beautiful too."

Luca supposed he did, leaning naked against the shower door with his hair falling perfectly in place. Angie would probably mess it right up playing with it, and he didn't really care. Admittedly, he'd prefer her to play with his pubic hair.

"So…" as seductively as he could, he slipped into the shower and turned it on, only to get sprayed in the face with freezing water. Not for the first time, he let out the most effeminate shriek in front of his girlfriend whilst naked and wet.

"Are you okay?" Angie asked once he leapt back out.

"Yeah, just… cold nipples." Why on earth did he say that? With a sliver of self-loathing, he slunk back in to adjust the water temperature. Within a few seconds, the water was blissfully lukewarm on his face, and he slicked his hair back with his hands, reaching for the shampoo before he was reminded that he wasn't actually having a shower by Angie's hands on his nipples.

"They must've been really cold," she commented as she rubbed and squeezed them, leading him to give a strangled moan as he turned to face her.

"I'm warmer now," he told her. Really? Why was he allowed to speak at times like these?

"Oh? How warm?" Well, at least he wasn't alone in being godawful at dirty talk.

"Maybe we should just get on with it." Before Angie could reply, Luca captured her lips in a kiss, lifting her up and against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist. Angie squealed at the freezing tiles on her back, and with laughter.

Luca kissed her nose as he rubbed his dick against her, entering slowly and carefully.

Apparently that wasn't what she was after tonight.

"Honey," she began, "do you think you can be a bit rough tonight? I'd- I'd really like it." Angie trailed her fingers across Luca's neck, knowing just how damn sensitive he was there.

"I could try," was all Luca could promise her. He was a gentle soul, and couldn't really do rough. He was more of a taking things slow and being ultra romantic, rather than… what if he was too rough? It seemed impossible, but what if he accidentally killed her? How does one even explain that to the police?

He picked up his pace, tightening his grip and trying to look like he had some idea of what he was doing. Angie seemed to be enjoying it though, tugging at his hair and whispering into his neck. Her voice tickled. It sent sparks through his body. She was telling him to go faster, that he was a good boy, to pull her hair and scratch her back.

Luca did all those things with grace and passion, kissing her roughly whilst she ran her hands over his face. This was absolutely perfect.

Until he slipped and the pair of them went crashing to the floor.