"Never," Loki promised, as if it was a promise that he could keep. As if their parents didn't follow Thor's ever move with rapturous attention even now. Loki could soften it, perhaps. If the incident caused enough of a stir, he was sure to be interviewed and he could easily twist facts a little to place the blame more solidly on Stark. He could even subtly implicate the cameraman if he tried hard enough, imply that was holding a grudge, perhaps, trying to discredit Thor. It was easy enough to brush off the paparazzi that way. He'd think of something.
In the meantime, Loki got up to get a glass of water, pure and cold and flavored with a twist of lime. He handed it to his brother. "Drink," he said, and despite the weariness around his eyes, it was clear that he was not making a suggestion. He hadn't dealt with the bathroom yet. He was good at cleaning up by now, but there wasn't time to deal with it, so he'd just closed the door and resolved to do it once Thor was asleep. Which, by his estimation, shouldn't be too long, despite the adrenaline that was surely still thrumming through his veins.
He waited for his brother to take the glass and then he sank down beside him, immediately reaching out to massage his, by now, very sore leg. It was a gesture he never would have made in front of anyone but Thor, a silent admission of the weakness he carried in his body, a vulnerability that he did his level best not to draw attention to. Loki's injury had marked him from the very beginning, he knew, especially in District Two, where physical strength and stamina were regarded so highly.
Here in the Capitol, it was another kind of branding -- the mark of someone who'd grown up in relative poverty, away from the miraculous medical technology of the Capitol. When he'd first arrived here, it had always frustrated Loki that true Capitol natives would always ask him which district he'd come from without even thinking that he was one of them. It had taken months for him to finally realize that they could recognize him at first sight, that he was highlighted as other just in the way moved through the world.
Loki looked over at his brother, taking in the profile that was so chiseled and godlike even now, in his disheveled misery. He let a small, mischievous smile light over his lips, and shifted his weight so he could gently elbow his brother in the ribs. "Just so you're aware, brother, if one word passes your lips to imply that Stark was a worthy adversary, I'm going to make you sleep in the bathroom."