Damon had watched his brother's antics without comment - poking the fire needlessly, which was a trifle irritating as it blocked his view of the glames, even disrupting them temporarily. But he said nothing, thinking that he was showing himself to be the better man. That couldn't last forever, naturally.
At Stefan's comment, Damon met his brother's gaze. "Are you?" he asked cheekily. "I wouldn't know. Don't tell me the princess has your knickers in a twist again?" He smiled cockily, a look that was part devil, part angel, depending upon the bias of the observer.
Secretly, he was happy to have his brother's company, although he'd never admit to it. They could have one of their delightful heart to hearts, share their brotherly thoughts, and maybe even get into a fight. That would at least provide a salvation from this worn track which his mind was running. Although salvation and Salvatore was not usually uttered in the same breath - they sounded similar, but the vampire brothers were beyond redemption, and Damon knew it.