[ You and me both is the thought that crosses Homelander's mind, but the words that prompt the thought are delivered so easily that he keeps it to himself. What does it fucking matter, anyway? It's a stupid thing to get hung up on, a stupid thing to bring up. ]

I doubt anyone would care, [ he says instead, slipping into dispassionate territory. ] I don't think there's anything that would make the staff happier than an excuse to bake another cake, anyway.

[ He rolls his shoulders, as though shaking off a shroud — shaking off his previous train of thought and the affect that followed — before putting on a smile again, the bridge of his nose pinching as he makes a you know what, fuck it sort of expression. ]

You know what, sure. I'll have a slice.