Ichigo loved you, he really did. He loved you on your good days and on your bad days, whether you looked like an angel or a ratty, messy hobo. He loved you despite all your bad habits. Which was probably why, when in the middle of a make-out session with you on your couch, he stayed pretty nonplussed despite the huge whiff of spoiled meat that he suddenly got.

"What's that smell?" he asked, raising himself up off you to look around for the source of the smell.

"I don't know…" you said, wondering about the smell yourself. "Did you fart Ichigo-kun?"

"Of course not, idiot!"

You just giggled at his oh-so-predictably outraged reply before setting about finding the source of the smell, which only seemed to be getting stronger. Bending down, you sniffed the cushions of your couch. Nope, wasn't those. Moving a pillow, you rooted around in the space between the cushions, wondering if something had fallen between there. You had a horrible habit of leaving things laying around or misplacing them and somehow, they always seemed to turn up between your couch cushions.

Eureka! You'd found it. You brought your hand up from between the cushion and the arm of the couch, culprit in hand.

"Eh, I was wondering where that had disappeared to!" you said as you held up the now moldy bologna sandwich.

"That's so gross, (y/n)" was all that Ichigo could think of to say.