Benjamin returns the smile with a small one of his own, more than a little sly but not enough so to be called a smirk, per se. Really, it was more the smile one might give a friend when enjoying a private joke at absolutely no-one's expense.
"Pepper jack," he answers while following, having to fight the strangest urge to take Dom by the elbow, as though they were much closer emotionally than they were. To someone who made friends slowly, the echo of old comradeship attached to a face he'd never seen before moving is an unnerving situation to find himself in. He tries to avoid showing it; Dominic's done nothing to prove himself unworthy, and would probably be insulted if Benjamin explained himself.
"Thanks." Ben gravitates to the prepared quesadillas, setting the bag containing his brought cheese as he ponders whether to even add it, from both a culinary and manners perspective. "I should probably warn you, I'm an ignorant American when it comes to Hispanic food. The closest I've come is Taco Bell, and I suspect that they might actually be serving well-seasoned plastic."