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He doesn't make it a habit to go around kissing people in his workplace, mostly because he's not interested in anyone in his workplace. Yoshimura is like a wise and kind father-figure, Kirishima is like an older sister in spite of her being his junior, and Jiro, Ichimi and Sante are basically his kids. Or his little siblings, depending on the day and how they're acting. Anteiku is more like a family to him, so of course he isn't going to kiss anyone who works with him, but...
Sometimes, Kaneki Ken comes in while Banjou is on his break, usually at his request, and while they haven't done anything at all intimate yet, Banjou aches with the want of it. As he pulls Kaneki into the kitchen through the back entrance, he tells himself that it doesn't matter. Kaneki is here to sample some of the stranger fruit tarts he's been working on as a favor. Banjou just wants his opinion and will maintain his self-control. They're still trying to figure out where this relationship is going, after all.
"I've been trying out a few new pastry recipes," he says, looking back at Kaneki as he guides him into the kitchen, trying not to focus too much on how nice their hands feel when their fingers are laced. Kaneki follows him dutifully, looking around the kitchen and trying to spot if they've added anything new since he was last dragged back here. It doesn't happen often, and certainly when no one who would mind it is around, but his visits back here aren't infrequent.
"All these pastries are going to end up making me fat," he gripes, but humor laces his tone.
"You'll be fine," says Banjou. "I'm sure Nagachika would help you work off the pounds."
"I'm never going to the gym with Hide again. Not after the last time."
He needs to get that story at some point, he thinks. Banjou wants to get all of Kaneki's stories, wants to know as much as the other man is willing to share. Likes and dislikes, sure, but he also wants peeks into Kaneki's life and experiences. He wants to know about the little moments that have brought Kaneki happiness, and the other ones that have made him sad or angry. He wants the most full picture he can get, and then maybe he can stop feeling like he's being held at some kind of distance, the length of which he isn't quite sure about.
As soon as they arrive at the counter, Banjou gestures at the tray of varied tarts, all petite and colorful. Some are topped with standard fruits, like strawberries and blueberries, but others are peaches and cherries, kiwi and dragonfruit. A bright yellow one with little black seeds is passion fruit. Kaneki points at each tart in the spread and guesses what the toppings are, managing to get them right more often than not. Banjou is admittedly a little impressed by him recognizing even the more uncommon fruits.
"I've been researching ingredients used in baking," Kaneki says. "Particularly tarts, since you seem to like making them so much."
Banjou feels his heart flutter a little and swallows, resisting the urge to lean forward and press their mouths together. Instead he reaches for a tart without looking, picking up a bright green one with a slice of kiwi on top and lifting it to Kaneki's mouth.
"Here, try this."
They both pause for a moment, simultaneously realizing what's happening, and Banjou almost drops the pastry he's holding in mortification. Kaneki's cheeks are slowly growing pink, a blush that Banjou finds adorable flooding it's way up to the tips of his ears.
"Um," he says intelligently, and feels his mouth move and his voice work, trying to formulate what he's sure is an attempt at an apology. It comes out in mumbles and he's about to try and repeat himself when he sees Kaneki lean forward. His mouth opens, closes around the tart and a little around Banjou's fingers before he pulls back, chewing thoughtfully with his face still pink. Banjou's mumbling dies with a small wheeze and he tries not to let himself focus too hard on the fact that Kaneki has just eaten something out of his hand. Part of him is gleefully happy about having done something so domestic, but another part of him is standing stock still and trying to make his mouth work as Kaneki swallows.
"It's really good," Kaneki says, licking at his lips for smears of bright green kiwi curd. “Sweet, but also a little tart.”
“Careful,” Banjou manages to get out amid his flustering, “with puns like those, you might end up turning into Haise.”
The bridge of Kaneki’s nose crinkles and he wiggles it back and forth in mock disgust. Banjou knows enough to understand that Kaneki has a fondness for his probably-cousin, but that doesn’t mean he wants to be him. Banjou smiles and nudges playfully against him, careful not to do it too hard lest he knock the other man over. Kaneki nudges him back and laughs.
“Give me another one?” Banjou doesn’t say anything this time, just reaches for another mini-tart, this one topped with dragonfruit and carambola. He holds it up to Kaneki, who leans forward again and bites it delicately in half this time, leaving the tips of Banjou’s fingers lightly dusted with crumbs, spit, and curd. Banjou’s hardly paying attention to it, focused on how Kaneki eats with relish, leans back in happily to take the rest out of his hand.
“This one’s good too,” he says, and Banjou watches as his mouth moves, his tongue rubbing up against his hard palate. “A little more tangy though.”
They gradually move through the entire tray of miniature tarts, six in all, not including the ones Kaneki’s already eaten. He doesn’t always offer his thoughts, sometimes just takes it and makes tiny, greedy and grateful noises as he chews and swallows. In no time at all, the tarts are all gone and Kaneki is licking his lips and teeth, making sure he’s gotten everything he can.
“Oh,” says Banjou, and pads off to get one of the pitchers of iced coffee that they keep in the back for employees. He pours Kaneki a glass, hands it to him and watches him sip it gratefully. Banjou leans a hip against the counter, arms crossed and smiles as Kaneki downs the rest of the glass and exhales in satisfaction.
“So which one was your favorite? I tried to keep them all mostly sweet with one other flavor backing it up. The bases are all the same though, and the curd for the kiwi one wasn’t really the color I wanted it to be, but--” He stops rambling when he feels a hand on his face, a fingertip tapping gently on his earlobe and the heel of a hand pressed to the curve of his jaw.
“Banjou,” says Kaneki, “They were all excellent, but...”
It hangs in the air, the absence of Kaneki’s words. It’s strange because he’s usually reserved and shy, but so well-spoken when he cares to be. Banjou feels his chest go tight in concern, worried that he’s overstepped his bounds or misinterpreted something along the way. It isn’t until he looks a little closer at Kaneki and sees the way he’s still pink in the face, how he licks his lips and looks at Banjou’s, that it finally clicks.
The kiss isn’t entirely perfect. Kaneki tastes like tarts and his lips are sticky-damp with curd and spit, opposite to Banjou’s mostly dry and slightly chapped ones. He likes it anyway, presses in a little more eagerly before pulling away and back.
“Was that alright?” he asks, still needing the reassurance. Kaneki’s eyes flutter open and his mouth parts just slightly before he beams, his smile mostly in his eyes.
“I was waiting for you to do that.”
“I was nervous,” Banjou admits. "I figured it'd be better to wait for you to go first." Kaneki laughs, but it’s good-natured and short-lived. He’s too busy trying to reel Banjou back in, and Banjou feels a little silly about how long it's taken them to get to their first kiss.