"Damian, why did you do that?"
The words came seconds after his lips slid off of hers, seconds too long to not mean anything, seconds to short to have taken her breath away(which, incidentally, was not what he was aiming for, so he didn't know why something like disappointment made a sudden appearance on his emotional radar).
"Do what?" In his adolescent brain, Damian more or less hoped that if he acted as though nothing was out of the ordinary, Stephanie would, too.
She stared at him with her clear blue eyes, mouth hanging slightly open in a very unattractive manner, a drop of pizza sauce taunting him from her lower lip. His own mouth curving in a smile, he leaned over to lick it off before returning to his slice.
The second sort-of kiss seemed to jolt her to her senses (though he had long since given up hope of Stephanie Brown having any real sense), and her hand traveled to her mouth with a speed that would have impressed the Flash. "Wh-what did-you just-Dam-" she stuttered out, eyelids fluttering in time to her staccato breath.
He took a bite of pizza, then another, and stoically ignored her.
After a moment, she did the same. He felt her eyes on him, but resisted the impulse to meet them(let her sort it out for herself).
In typical Stephanie Brown manner, she waited until he was cornered, up to his elbows in soapy water doing the after-dinner dishes, to ask in the most blunt of manners, "Are you in love with me?"
"What on earth are you talking about?" It was fun to watch her squirm, but when she turned the microscope on him, he became defensive(only a little, not very much). "Has your over-priced hairspray finally melted what remains of your mental functions?"
(Maybe a little more than "not very much")
Stephanie wiped a glass dry and didn't answer the question.