"Oh, c'mon, Gus, lemme lick it. Lemme lick it. Lemme liiick it." He leaned closer, sticking out his tongue and trying to catch the spoon, but Gus snatched it away.
"No!" Gus cradled the mixing bowl protectively against his chest. "I will not have the plethora of malignant microorganisms in your mouth marring my batter, and that's without even mentioning the salmonella risk."
"But, dude," Shawn said, waving his hands as if Gus' concerns were pesky little flies he could sway. "I love salmon."
"The motile enterobacteria, Shawn, not the aquatic vertebrate," Gus said, deftly dodging another one of Shawn's dives. "And you are not getting your nasty ass germs all up in my Triple Fudge Rum Pecan Caramel Brownie family recipe."
Shawn shivered and wiggled his hips. "I think I something naughty just happened in my pants on account of the sheer amount of awesome contained in that name."
Gus smiled as he stirred. "You know that's right." He poured it into the baking pan, smoothing out the top with careful precision and attention to detail. Shawn jittered the entire time, tapping his fingers and bouncing up on the balls of his feet.
"There," Gus said, standing back to admire his work. "That, Shawn, is what we in the Guster family like to call complete and utter perfection."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, less talk, more spoon," Shawn held out his arm, and Gus, with a shake of his head, surrendered it. "Don't blame me if you die before you can eat the real thing."
"Worth it," Shawn burbled around the spoon, smiling like it was his birthday, Christmas, and Val Kilmer's birthday all rolled into one.