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Malcolm takes it from him, a little wowed, pulling it partway out of the sheath to get a look at the blade. Then he looks up at Will.

"Did... Did you get this on the planet?"

Will was already thinking about this before they even left.

"I love it," he breathes. He puts it on the counter so he can lean up and give him a tender, lingering kiss. "I love you," he whispers in its wake.

Will's eyes flick over the blade and the sheath and he considers once again that he should've maybe tooled the sheath like he'd intended, or maybe it wasn't as well-crafted as he could've gotten. He has a hundred things to say on his lips but that just means he stays silent as Malcolm looks it over.

He licks his lips just before Malcolm's back to him, kissing him. Will kisses back with relief and squeezes Malcolm closer before they part. "I love you, too. I'm glad. I got lucky, with this. I don't really know much...about these sorts of weapons. But we don't have access to any magically-embossed swords, generally."

"I've never had a magic sword before," Malcolm confirms, turning to look at his weapons cases, already mentally working on how he wants to display it, without taking his hand off Will's waist. He's going to put it right in the middle of one of the cases, that much he knows. It's just a question of which one and how he wants to rearrange it. He looks at Will again like he's just remembered something.

"Wine!"

Will accepted Malcolm's offer of it, and then Malcolm got distracted and forgot all about it. He shifts around the counter a little to pour two glasses and brings them and himself back into Will's space, putting one glass in his hand and holding up the other to toast. "To our future."

Will is just grinning, now. Malcolm can get these boyish grins out of him easily, especially when they both seem happy and unfettered by their pasts. When Malcolm looks at him, Will just stares for a long moment.

And then Malcolm remembers the wine and Will laughs. "Wine," he replies moving with Malcolm so he doesn't have to go as far to get to him. He takes the glass of the light white, looks at it with a light behind, then clinks it gently to Malcolm's glass. His heart feels full. "To our future. And to many more days like this."

“And to finally understanding what happiness actually feels like,” Malcolm adds before taking a sip.

He glances at the platter of food, but recalls the look that crossed Will’s face when he pointed it out before.

“Do you… do you not like this food? It’s the ones Neal leaves for me so I remember to eat. Well. Left for me, I guess…” His voice trails off. It’ll be a while at least before that happens again. He lifts his gaze back to Will’s face. “I can get something else,” he offers earnestly. He knows where the commissary is now, after going there to pay Shaw’s meat tax. A rip off, since she promised they could talk if he brought something to eat and then she wouldn’t engage. Or even acknowledge that he spoke. “The number of things I have the ability to prepare is pretty limited, but I can do… a few things.”

Will's sip is long and lingering- he understands why Hannibal always held the glass so damn weird, now, the smell really permeates when one's nose is more sensitive. But he notices Malcolm's worry and finishes his sip, putting the glass down.

He puts his hand on Malcolm's shoulder and rubs it a little. "No, no," he says, shaking his head. "It's just been a long while since someone fed me gourmet food and topped it off with wine. And you can...probably guess who that was. The reminder from my brain wasn't particularly welcome. That's all."

Ooooh nooooo he reminded him of his ex. He glances at the food and almost goes down that spiral but then he notices Will’s hand on his shoulder. How it’s warm. The affection in the gesture.

He looks at Will’s face again. Oh, that’s warm too. And affectionate. The uncertainty in his expression fades into another, softer smile.

“I didn’t think of that,” he says apologetically.

'Ex' is both way too strong and not enough to describe what Hannibal Lecter was and is to Will. But whatever term would encompass that, it does not need to be spared a single thought in the here and now.

Will shakes his head again. "I wouldn't expect you to. That's just the mess in my head. Which feels like it's all slowly untangling, mostly thanks to you. So let's enjoy. You can eat this, too?"

He assumes so, since it was actually made for him. The food looks amazing. Will is seriously going to need to learn to cook soon.

Malcolm’s smile gets lighter. He glances at the plate and nods. All stuff he can eat.

“I know what it’s like. The mess. The way it sneaks up sometimes.” He pulls the plate over so he doesn’t have to stray from Will’s arms to pick up one of the bites and pop it in his own mouth - safe, see? - before picking one up and offering it to Will. “This one has something lemony in it.” He’s not a chef, either.

Will watches with knowing eyes as Malcolm eats one of the bites. Of course it's safe, but of course it doesn't hurt to see Malcolm eat one, either. Will finds himself absolutely charmed by the gesture and takes the offering with a gracious nod.

The bite itself is slightly big, but that just means it takes a little extra chewing. His eyebrows pop up as swallows it. "It's really good...definitely something lemony," he confirms, with an amused smirk. "Have you had this before?"

“Not that one,” Malcolm says. “That’s a new one.” He puts his glass down so that hand can absently grip Will’s waist while he peruses the plate and picks up another. “I’ve had this one,” he says offering it to Will. “Something with salmon and maple syrup.”

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