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Alastor pipes the final line onto the cake, finishing a perfect(ly hideous) explosion of rubber ducks, flames, and apple trees without any eggs, bunnies, or baskets in sight.
Lucifer’s always tetchy on the anniversary of the newly favoured Son returning home while the original remains unwelcome. It’s best to avoid all reference. The cake is vanilla for the same reason; chocolate won’t be appreciated today.
Lucifer opens his door, his distressed face lighting up at Alastor’s offering. Alastor is quickly pulled into the hug that is (blissfully) always the culmination of Lucifer’s affection, and revels in being what’s appreciated.