Mmn, perhaps later, if you ask particularly nicely.

[ He is not going to wipe his hands on his pants you uncultured heathen. Napkins will do well enough until he gets up to wash his hands, but from the way Noctis is reaching out to him, warm fingers dipping under his chin, that's going to be later.

Right now, he's tilting his head down a touch, shifting to accept the kiss and press a lingering one in return when Noctis asks that. Part of him wonders if it's just to hear it - surely, Noctis doesn't think that there was ever a point in time where Ignis didn't care? The problem wasn't ever a lack of caring. ]

I will tell you as many times as you need to hear it, but I never, ever stopped caring for you, Noct. The problem was I cared too much.