Loki pivoted away from the medicine cabinet and took two cups from the cupboard, then approached on of the taps build into the kitchen wall. He keyed in a rapid sequence and then held each cup below the spout as it dispensed a sweet-smelling lavender-colored liquid into each.
There were no circumstances under which Loki would ever describe himself as "inarticulate." Even on those rare occasional when he indulged in too much drink, Loki was very careful about his habits and his speech. Where others possessed physical weaponry, Loki's weapon of choice was his own brain, and that required a certain level of crafted eloquence. And he wielded that like a champion.
But then his brother fixed him with that sly grin and accused him of flirting and suddenly Loki may as well have had three tongues. "I didn't say--," he began, frustrated, and then switched to, "She didn't--" and then, "I wasn't--" and he knew full well as the words chased themselves out of his mouth that the very fact of his sudden incoherence would only reinforce Thor's thoughts on the matter, so he snapped his jaw closed and glared furiously at his brother, a look that Thor would easily recognize from all those many times he'd needled Loki with his real name, or one of those rare occasions he used his own physical superiority to tease him. A look that said, You've beaten me and there's nothing I can do about it now, but dammit, I am going to try.
But before he could craft some scathing retort, Thor had already grown serious, and Loki dropped his glare down to the steaming cups in his hands. Surely, Thor knew that he couldn't talk about this. Not in too much depth, anyway. He knew both what and why his brother was asking. On one level, the question was designed to remind him of the exact reason why it was a very bad idea for him to flirt with a Victor, particularly this Victor. On the other level...
He took Thor's now-empty water glass and handed him the tea. "Drink," he said again, his voice a little softer this time, less commanding. "It'll ease your head." He deposited the glass in a small chute, where it was whisked away to be cleaned, dried, and replaced in his cabinet, and then settled back on the couch, cupping his hands around his own tea.
The actions gave him time to think, to parse out an answer that was both honest, but didn't cross the line of what he could and couldn't say. Not just in the Capitol, but ever. There were forces working between them now, as both of them knew. And it would be dangerous for both of them if he spoke too liberally about subjects that Stane didn't want discussed. Loki sighed softly and looked at his brother seriously, and now he was the picture of articulateness, his words precisely chosen. "I know than is wise to reveal to my brother."
A non-answer to be sure, at least according to the words. But if Thor was asking the question Loki suspected he was asking, a question of reaping, then it should be enough to confirm his suspicions.