Leaving Dionysus and Ares to thrash things out, Aphrodite sought Eros, entering his suite with a wave of her hand that made locks and chains pointless, smiling at the song drifting from the shower. Such a lovely voice he had, and all his own, as the goddess couldn't have carried a tune with a bucket.
Mixing herself a martini, Aphrodite hopped up to perch on the dresser, taking in the state of the bed with an approving smile as the taps were turned and Eros' voice sounded clearer for the absence of the shower's roar, and she hummed along, foot bobbing in the air as her darling boy wandered in from the bath, rosy with heat and beautifully bruised in all the right places.
Plucking an olive from the skewer appropriately enough topped with a lovely cock, Aphrodite winked.