A/N: "Buttons" rated very low T.

"Mou, Ichigo!" Orihime said, peering under the couch. "Where'd they go?"

"I don't know!" he retorted, his face flushed. He peered behind the television. Not there. "Like I was paying attention to that!"

Orihime rose and surveyed the floor carefully once more before heading over to the couch to start digging through the cushions.

"Couldn't you be more careful? I really liked that shirt!"

"Oh no," he straightened, "don't you blame this on me." He turned around and pointed at her. "This was your fault."

Orihime turned to him as well and stuck out her bottom lip. "How is it my fault? You ripped my shirt off!"

"You!" his face flushed even more, "You weren't wearing any pants!"

"They were in the dryer!"

"Your underwear was lacy!"

"They were all I had left, I was doing the wash. That's still no reason to pounce on me and rip my shirt off." She crossed her arms. "Really, who does that?"

"Well, let's see," he said, approaching her slowly. "I walk in the door from work and barely set my stuff down when my adorable wife comes bounding at me in her underwear with that big goofy smile on her face and calls out cheerfully, 'Welcome home!' Under those circumstances? I think pretty much anyone would have."

"Mou," she said, finding a button stuck in the blinds. She was only missing one more now. She could fix her shirt without it.

"You're just horny," she muttered.

"Yes," he said grabbing her from behind, "I am."

"Ichigo!" She felt her body getting hot as he ran his hands over her.

"Mm?" he replied, burying his face in her hair. He paused and laughed.

"Orihime." She felt him grab at her hair and pull. She blushed and turned around in his arms. He held up the last tiny button.

Orihime's hands immediately flew up to her head. It had been in her hair the whole night? And stayed there? Ugh, her hair was probably a mess.

He backed her against the wall.

"Ichigo…"

He took the button and reached deep, deep into her pocket to put it away.

"Mmp," she yelped, "My hair is all messy!"

"Hmm, I know," he mused, closing his eyes and touching his chin to her forehead. "I like it."

His body pressed against hers.

"But Ichigo…" Despite her protests, her hands moved to his chest.

She couldn't say any more, she found her mouth blocked by his. A hand ventured from the small of her back up to the back of her head and they tumbled unceremoniously on to the couch.

A moment later her pants were tossed on the floor, scattering the buttons once again.