I suppose one could consider this a Malfoy Manner interlude, but it's really a giftfic for Narcissa's Dragon - just to prove that Brussels Sprouts can be sexy.

Just Desserts

Draco sighed contentedly and leaned back in the dining chair. "That," he began auspiciously, "was an excellent steak. I shall compliment the elf."

His mother smiled. "It is quite good. Eat your vegetables."

He scowled. "Did you really just tell me to eat my vegetables?"

"I did." She set aside her cutlery. "I am tired of seeing you waste food. And you'll malnourish yourself. Eat them."

"Brussels sprouts, mum. You know I hate them."

"They're good, Draco!"

"They smell like arseholes."

"How would you know that?"

He leaned toward her, grinning. "Really, mum?"

She blushed and pointed at his plate. "At least eat the potato, then."

Draco grunted, but started in on the potato anyway. "What's for dessert?" he asked.

"Nothing for the man who doesn't eat his Brussels sprouts."

"Bugger."

"None of that, either."

He stared at her. "You're serious." She nodded. "Sick witch." He stared at his plate.

"Mint?"

Their elf appeared. "Yes, mistress?"

"I'll have my mousse now."

He watched her eating mousse. "I ate the whole potato," he volunteered. She glanced at his plate.

"Very good, son."

He hissed. "May I have mousse, mother?" She moaned in pleasure around a mouthful of mousse. He licked his lips and added: "Please?"

Her eyes opened on him. She gestured to his plate with her fork. "Eat five Brussels sprouts."

He winced at the buttery green bastards. "Two."

"Five."

"Three." His tone was increasingly agitated

Narcissa sighed. "Four. And no more of this nonsense! You are not a child."

He scowled. He certainly was not a child. He was the man of this house. And a Slytherin to boot. He cleared his throat. "Very well, mother." She looked at him in surprise. "I shall eat four Brussels sprouts."

She smiled. He leaned in for the kill. "But only off of your naked body."

Her smile disappeared and she reddened like a smacked bottom. "Ridiculous." But she was flustered. Her fingers fidgeted with her napkin and her eyes darted about. "You have an illness," she said firmly. "And it's my fault. I've let you get away with too much."

"You love letting me get away with too much." He challenged her. He loved making her blushes deepen, and he was particularly gifted at doing so. "Fine." He folded his hands behind his head. "I'll eat six of them."

She clinked her spoon into her emptied dessert bowl. "If I let you eat them off of…" She waved her hand.

"Yes, off of your naked body." She would cave. She always did. She loved caving.

"Where?" Her voice was small.

He grinned. "Oh, I thought one or two between your tits, one in the navel, definitely one in your c-"

"That's not what I meant!" She hissed, slapping the table. He chuckled. "I meant where in the house?"

"Not here?" Draco asked innocently. He knew she was mortified that the elf might one day discover them in some compromising position or another. And Draco would freely admit that all of his favorite positions were quite compromising.

"Gods, not here!" She whispered loudly. "What are you thinking?"

He was thinking that someday he absolutely would have her on this dining room table…but he was a patient man. "Very well. Wherever you like."

She looked around. "Upstairs, then. Our bedroom."

"In our bed?" He was incredulous.

"Better than where we eat."

Draco considered. "So…we can eat where we fuck, but not fuck where we eat? That makes no bloody sense, mum."

She put on her 'that's that' face. "Take it or leave it."

He rose, grabbed his plate. Sometimes he forgot that she was a Slytherin, too. "Ladies first." He made a sweeping gesture toward the stairs.

She was brisk in the bedroom, immediately disrobing when they crossed the threshold. "Ward the door, please."

He rolled his eyes and drew his wand. "Really, mum. The elf is hardly going to barge in while we're –"

"Ward the door, please."

He set the plate on a bedside table and waved his wand. "There. Warded. We're now as secure as Gringott's." He began eagerly shedding his own oxford and trousers.

"Stop grinning like a pixie in season," she groused, loosing the fasteners on her garters.

Draco bounced naked onto the feather mattress. "Can't help it, mum," he announced. "I suddenly have a hunger burning deep within me that only Brussels sprouts can satiate." He licked his lips as she wiggled out of her knickers. "Christ, witch." She was climbing onto the bed. "Are you certain you're my mother?"

"No," she answered, lying on her back. "I would like to think my true son would be more inclined to eat like a reasonable adult."

He shrugged. "Well, I guess that makes all this alright, then." He pounced on her.

"Fiend!" She shouted, shoving him away. "The Brussels sprouts?"

"Oh." He scrambled over to the nightstand. "I nearly fucking forgot, mum. Glad you're here to remind me." She sighed in exasperation as he knelt over her. He held the plate like a palate, and viewed her as a blank canvas. "How shall we go about this, then? One at a time?"

"Less messy, I suppose," she answered.

"True, true," he murmured. "I've got a lovely idea." He fiddled about on the plate with his fork before settling half a sprout on each of her nipples.

"You've got to be joking," she deadpanned.

"Not at all." He nestled two more in between her breasts. "Now be very still, mum." He pressed a fourth sprout into her navel. "And don't let your nipples go hard or the sprouts'll tumble off and we shall have to start all over."

"You're a prat."

He set the plate on the nightstand. "I know." Slowly, he leaned over her chest. Narcissa stared over his head at a point on the wall and Draco smirked. Her cheeks were very pink and her sharp little teeth fussed at her bottom lip. He opened his mouth over a halved sprout and she tensed. Deliberately, he let his tongue first investigate the tiny cabbage.

"Mmm," he moaned. "They're not bad tonight, mum."

"Don't tease, boy."

"Boy?" He snapped the sprout from its perch and she jumped a little. "Careful!" He admonished around a mouthful of sprout. She whimpered a little when he licked a trickle of cooled butter from her breast. "Not bad at all," he said.

He placed his whole mouth over the other sprout, sucked it and her pebbled nipple into the hot cavern of his ardent mouth, moaned around the morsel. She shivered. One of her hands couldn't resist stroking his silky hair. "Draco…" Her stroke turned into a clutch in his hair.

He licked into the valley of her breasts where he gobbled the two sprouts snuggled there. He laved away the butter and kissed down the center of her torso to her navel. Her toes were flexing in the mattress. Bypassing the vegetable, he kissed her abdomen and looked to her face. "Alright, mum?"

She growled. "Draco, get these damned sprouts off me and fuck me properly."

He smoothly insinuated himself between her thighs. "Awfully demanding for a witch serving as a dinner plate, aren't we? I'll get there eventually. Let's see you keep that one in your navel for me, eh?" His mouth dipped low and her body jolted high.

"Draco!" She keened as he lapped and licked at her cunt. The Brussels sprout in her belly button wobbled precariously as she thrust into his mouth. "Oh, Circe's slick slit…" She moaned when he sucked her clit.

Draco loved when she talked dirty… He delved a little deeper, stroked harder the walls of her heat with his tongue, sent two fingers into play. She bucked forcefully and cried out.

The Brussels sprout rolled down the crease of her thigh and bumped against his bottom lip. Swiftly – and unnoticed – he tossed it over his shoulder and went back to work. The sweating witch beneath him was tightening, and he wanted her to come around his cock.

He lightened his machinations until he was disengaged and slid up her buttery body. "Best veg I've ever tasted, Narcissa," he huffed, sliding inside her quickly.

She gasped and grasped his shoulders. "Good!" Whether she referred to his comment or his cock didn't really matter.

"Gods, you're tight as the devil's fist." He pumped in and out of her steadily and slowly, building a rhythm, working her to a froth. "Tell me what you want."

"Faster!" She let go of all pretenses when she was seconds from orgasm. He could make her say pretty damn much anything. "Harder, my dragon." She sucked at his bottom lip and pulled his forehead to hers. "Fuck me, baby."

"Oh hell, mum," he whined helplessly and pounded her into the mattress. Her abandoned cries were his just desserts, and he feasted on them as she milked him dry and marked his buttocks with her sharp nails.

After they'd caught their breath and he'd peeled himself off of her, Draco was struck by the true absurdity of the situation. Staring at the bed's canopy, he laughed aloud.

"What?" She was propped on one elbow, looking at him.

"You smell like arseholes now, mum."

She shrugged and plucked a bit of Brussels sprout from her tit. "You still fucked me."

He sobered. "That's true."

"And you did eat three of them, did you not?"

The bint knew he'd tossed one. Blast. "I did."

"So you owe me three more."

He glared at her. "After that? I owe you?"

"The deal was six." She reminded him matter-of-factly.

Draco rubbed a hand over his face and groaned. There were three sprouts left on the plate. "Fine!" He retrieved the plate and turned to his mother. She raised a brow. He smirked. "Hands and knees, please Narcissa…"