Touch-starved. Yes, that's it exactly. Two years of keeping everyone firmly at arms' length (arms' length plus a knife, in some cases) and never having meant it even before that— it takes a toll. Will doesn't want to rush this and ruin it, but it's hard to hold back. He doesn't know how far to take it. Apparently, Rosinante doesn't have that problem.

Will doesn't panic when their positions shift a bit, when he's pulled just that tiniest bit closer and Rosi's face moves toward him. He would with anyone else, and the fact that he doesn't feels... nice.

The kiss isn't so bad, either.

He hopes this was meant to be more than a quick, chaste, first-date sort of thing, because he's going to make it more. His hand slides up the back of Rosi's neck into his hair, holding them in the kiss just a little bit longer.