He's not sure what he was expecting, other than illicit substances, but this -- this is almost two much. James feels himself getting choked up and he presses his knuckles to his lips, taking a deep breath.
"Neal..." It's full of breath and emotion, and he takes the sword, delicate, careful fingers stroking the handle. Then he sets it lightly on the deck and tugs Neal into a tight embrace, pressing a few kisses to his cheek and jaw.
"Thank you. This means -- I can't even tell you what it means."