Draco does appreciate the fact that this time his clothes end up on the back of the chair. He could easily afford to replace them, on the unlikely chance they were damaged, but Draco does tend to take care of his things. It said one thing when he had his trousers pooled around his ankles, and another when they ended up neatly on the back of a chair. He catches on to that encouragement, that subtle demand to keep working on Snape's buttons. So, he does so.

Or, well, he tries, at any rate. The buttons on Snape's vest are small, slippery, and numerous, and Draco's fingers are shaking from want. There's a soft, breathless murmur when a full minute later he's only improved that count to three. But, his hands slide away, tracing along Snape's side as the buttons suddenly start undoing themselves. In situations like this, some people seemed to count it cheating. Draco normally liked the feel of touching, but at the moment he just needed it off. It doesn't take long, a sly glimmer in his blue eyes as he starts to guide the vest off down his arms.

Draco was not long on patience. This fact hadn't improved much in the past few years.