Draco was very confused. He didn't know much about Auror procedures during an arrest, but he was pretty sure it didn't involve pressing your prisoner to the bars, yanking his trousers down, and buggering him silly.

But apparently, this was Auror Potter's way of dealing with prisoners.

Which, if one thought about it, didn't really help lowering the crime rate.

Not that Draco thought about it. He was busy trying to control his continuous whimpering. His head was pressed to the bars and the cold metal dug into his left cheek and temple. Potter stood behind him, clutching his hips to keep him in place, making sure Draco remained bent over as he dedicated himself to the task of relentlessly burying his cock inside Draco's arse.

With his hands tied on his back, Draco could do little but take it. Well, he could moan and plead for more. Which he might have done very loudly.

Potter grabbed a bar next to Draco's head, the power of his thrusts intensifying, and Draco could not determine whether the whole world or just the bars shook with every thrust, but something was shaking a lot. It was probably him. His arse was on fire, and his head and his arms hurt something horrid.

And Draco loved every glorious second of it.

Until Potter pulled out, much too soon, causing Draco to cry out in distress. Potter gasped behind him and then something hot and sticky splashed all over Draco's buttocks, uncomfortably sliding down over his thighs and legs. The feeling was humiliating, but at the same time incredibly arousing.

But it couldn't end like this. Draco spluttered in indignation and whined, rolling his hips, trying in vain to create some friction. Was that all? He'd get nothing? Draco's cock twitched inexplicably at the thought of Potter using him like this, but Draco still desperately needed to come.

As though he had heard Draco's unspoken plea, Potter spun him around, and Draco's hands were suddenly free. He stared at the cruel Auror, surprised to see Potter smirking. Potter never smirked, which was a shame because it became him beautifully.

"Won't you do something about that?" Potter asked, arching his eyebrow and lowering his gaze down at Draco's hard cock.

Draco fought for air, much too confused to ponder his humiliation. His cock ached and he needed release, and Potter clearly didn't intend to help him. So he grabbed himself with both of his hands and pulled on his cock harshly, biting his lips to prevent himself from moaning too much.

Potter still gripped the bar next to Draco's head, trapping him between his stretched out arm, his body, and the wall, and staring unwaveringly at Draco's face. It should have been embarrassing, standing there, freshly used, with Potter's come all over his arse, his trousers around his thighs, wanking himself while Potter watched. But it was also a rush, seeing Potter's hungry expression and knowing that Potter liked what he saw.

Draco moved his hand rapidly, the slapping noise his hand made and his rough breathing the only sounds in the cell. His orgasm overwhelmed him, and Draco closed his eyes, shaking with the force of it, his knees nearly buckling and the floor threatening to disappear beneath his feet.

By the time he regained his breath and opened his eyes, Potter had already moved away. He was fully dressed, waving his wand to get rid off Draco's spunk from his clothes.

"You can go now," Potter declared.

Draco started, surprised with this statement. He looked at the open cell door and then back at Potter, feeling incredibly confused. This was by far the oddest thing that had ever happened to him. But after he thought about it, at least one conclusion was obvious — Potter didn't mind having sex with Draco, even without receiving any financial compensation. Which was a million times better than what Draco had originally thought. And cheaper.

Draco narrowed his eyes. Odd as these events had been, they were certainly intriguing. "You do this to all your prisoners?" Draco coughed slightly after hearing the scratchiness of his voice. He sure hoped he hadn't been screaming.

"Every single one," Potter replied with a grin, but Draco didn’t believe him for a second. So he kept staring, until Potter sighed and shook his head, his eyes twinkling. "You're much too entertaining when confused. So you've gotten a freebie."

Draco pursed his lips, still unsatisfied with the answer, and not really sure whether the sex or his freedom had been the mentioned freebie. But apparently that had been the only explanation he was going to get.

"Go." Potter cocked his head in the direction of the exit. His voice was firm, indicating that this was an order.

But Draco didn't feel like going. This surpassed his wildest expectations and he was unwilling to just let it go. Potter had showed him something spectacular and gave Draco an orgasm of his life without even trying. He needed to know what would happen if Potter did try.

He had to think of something.

"I've stayed in a Muggle hotel in London two days ago," he said randomly. "And I stole the towels. And the cute little animal shaped soaps."

Potter raised his eyebrows and stared at him for a full minute before he spoke, his tone incredulous. "You want a second arrest?"

"I'm a danger to society. Clearly." Draco nodded emphatically. "You should ... subdue me."

Potter's lips curved into a smile, his gaze raking over Draco's body as though he was assessing possibilities. Draco awaited Potter's decision with bated breath.

"Stealing towels is quite illegal," Potter declared at last. "And the soaps ... that's just evil. A simple arrest won't do. I should punish you."

Draco shivered and nodded again, grabbing the bars for support. Hearing Potter say the word punish spread a pleasant weakness through his body. "That's not all," he claimed. "I did other illegal things. Many of them. I do them all the time. It's a disorder."

"How terrible," Potter said reproachfully, and then walked closer, his proximity making Draco's body quiver. Potter grabbed Draco's upper arm and said with finality, "I think I should place you under house arrest. And sign you up for a rehabilitation program."

Draco gulped, but asked hopefully, "Who runs that program?"

"I do. I just started it." Potter leaned in, his lips almost touching Draco, but not quite. And then his expression turned more serious. "I don't usually shag my prisoners. Or take them home," he confessed, and for a moment, he looked like the same old Potter Draco knew well.

Draco grinned, very pleased with himself. He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips firmly to Potter's, murmuring, "That's good to know." He kissed Potter lightly, experiencing emotions that he planned never to articulate since that would be much too embarrassing. Instead, he just smiled, adding, "Well then, just for the record, I don't usually put out on my first arrest."