[Sam's in the kitchen making a cake - or trying to, anyway. What he's really doing is attempting to play keep-away with the bowl while Steve keeps sneaking his fingers into the batter. He's already smacked Steve's hand with the spoon once or twice - clearly something his mother never did while she was baking - and he sports a streak of batter high on one of his cheekbones.]
Seriously, if I drop this bowl on the floor, there isn't gonna be any cake.
[...they both know that if he does, he'll probably just sigh and make another batch. He won't let Steve's birthday be ruined, goddamnit.]
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Seriously, if I drop this bowl on the floor, there isn't gonna be any cake.
[...they both know that if he does, he'll probably just sigh and make another batch. He won't let Steve's birthday be ruined, goddamnit.]