They were just friends. Really.
Neville never understood why his housemates had a hard time believing that. So he and Susan Bones did tend to spend a decent amount of time together. But he also spent a decent amount of time with Seamus and Harry and Ron and he certainly wasn't carrying on illicit love affairs with them either. The time he spent with Susan was purely innocent, they worked together for Merlin's sake.
Of course, he was truthful enough to admit, to himself at least, that if offered the chance for a love affair - illicit or not - with her he'd take it in a heartbeat. Even though she tended to be quiet at first, she was a loud, crazy, silly, amazing thing once you got to know her. She would jump on the strangest ideas for experiments so often that he had wondered if she was related to Luna Lovegood; never worried if they didn't pan out for they 'still learned something' from it all. He hadn't pointed out, yet, that a number of these experiments had nearly totaled the greenhouse they shared and didn't plan to any time soon. (Though if she ever decided to try crossing Snapdragons with Fireweed again he wasn't going to be held accountable for what he did to her. The bloody things near burned down the greenhouse with their flame-shooting blossoms!)
Right now, however, they were performing the very tame task of tackling the book-keeping. Perhaps her biggest difficulty (annoyance, bother, downfall, enough for him to see red) as a research partner was the fact that other than her experiment notes, Susan couldn't be arsed to keep track of anything. They'd had Godric only knew how many arguments over where that journal was and what happened to that book and why the bloody hell couldn't she just put the invoices in the filing cabinet like a normal person?
Those were times when he found himself even more attracted to her (as well as wanting to strangle that pretty neck of hers); watching as she yelled right back at him, her eyes flashing in anger. His housemates wouldn't ever believe that he ever fought with Susan, outside the DA - and that was years ago - they'd never seen her say more than five words at once. Of course, his housemates more than once told him they didn't believe it because they rarely saw him lose his temper. But there was just something about the way she got under his skin...
Over time he'd learned there was one way to deal with her messiness outside of her notes. As the 'senior partner' in their research endeavor - there were a few perks to being a hero of the war, and that was one of them - he was technically her boss (reason #85637 why he wasn't about to let himself get involved with her) and therefore able to give 'orders'.
Or at least in this case designate one day at the beginning of every month for them to do nothing but tackle book work; find all the slips of paper that seemed to lose themselves in the Tentacula's corner (times were that he swore she'd trained that thing to steal his notes) and get things in order for the new month. He wasn't sure if he would have kept his sanity this long without this book work day. Yet, at the same time, he wasn't certain how he was keeping it considering how long he'd been staring at the way her tongue wrapped around the tip of her quill as she reworked figures in her head.
He was going to be caught if he kept watching, and he certainly wasn't going to be in any condition to stand decently anytime soon considering what she'd definitely notice then. Shifting slightly in his seat, trying to relieve some pressure on certain parts of his body, he tried to turn his attention back to the order form he was filling out. She'd given him a list of plants she needed for the next go-round in her experiments and he was trying to combine her list with his and determine if there was enough grant money for this month to cover the order.
Reviewing her list, he automatically crossed off Fireweed (he wasn't going down that road again), decided that between the two of them they didn't need two flats of jasmine and glanced up just in time to see her tuck her hair up in a knot on the back of her head and secure it with her wand. (She really should wear blouses that were looser across the front, not so... snug... that the buttons pulled as she stretched back behind her; the kind where the fabric gaped open in places and gave him interesting glimpses of skin and lace.) He wasn't certain why she would put her hair up if she was cold, and she was noticeably cold - not that he was going to mention it to her. No, he wasn't going to get caught taking note of his coworker's breasts or the impossibly hard nipples said breasts sported. That was a one-way ticket to getting himself hexed he was quite certain.
Not to mention the fact that friends didn't bring things like that up. Really.
But maybe there was a more innocuous way to bring up the topic; perhaps see if she would like for him to strengthen the Warming Charms (not that he'd prefer that, as he was boiling himself, but if she wanted him to... it might be best considering things). Her current state was most distracting. Especially in his current state. As he wracked his brain for said innocuous way of asking just that, he noticed that she wasn't sitting across from him anymore but standing. Oh. She must have finished her paperwork (she always finished before him; he was certain it was because he was so distracted he couldn't think properly when they were working together).
She made her way around the table they were using as a desk, carelessly tossing the papers she had been working with on top of his. Making it impossible for him to continue working and ignore her (they were practically eye level with him sitting down, there was no way he could ignore that why couldn't she have just left her papers there like usual and must he look at her - look up at her face, don't stray below her neck, up at her face and good Godric he wasn't going to be able to stand until long after she left) as she leaned in close, shaking her head. "You're finished?" he asked, trying to keep to business at hand and hoping she'd leave. Only she wasn't leaving like she usually did. "Yes?"
"You, Neville Longbottom," she said in an exasperated, yet slightly amused voice, "are a singularly impossible man."
"Huh?" He asked rather ineloquently, not quite certain where she was going to go with this and still half distracted by things in front of him.
She just rolled her eyes and leaned in, pressing her lips (soft, pink, tasted like raspberries, vanilla and tantalizing promises) to his, her hand reaching back to cup his neck and weave through his hair. His hands (completely of their provocation, as if they had stopped to listen to him and do as he wanted they'd be on the table and nowhere near her) wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer (she had to know now what she did to him, there wasn't any was she could miss that, not with his erection pressed up against her like this) instead of safely pushing her away and trying to somehow pretend this hadn't happened.
When she finally did pull away (he didn't want her to, wanted to continue kissing her here, enjoying how she fit so well in his arms) she had that mischievous grin that always wreaked havoc on his libido and this was no different. He should definitely pretend this hadn't happened, that their working relationship hadn't turned into him wanting to snog her senseless on a workbench in the greenhouse.
"I'm going to go get cleaned up." She said softly, stepping out of his arms and backing away toward the back where she had insisted they install a locker room of sorts. Really just a loo and a shower, but somewhere for them to wash up from an experiment gone awry (which happened more often than not here). "You can keep on with those papers of yours. Or," she paused, flashing that grin at him as she cocked her head toward the locker room now. "Or you could join me."
He forced himself to stop and consider the options as she disappeared through the door, though his decision had been made as soon as she has given him that look. With a grin of his own he pushed the papers aside, not bothering with the slips that floated to the floor near the Tentacula, and followed her back.
So maybe he hadn't been entirely truthful when he told the guys he and Susan were just friends. Really.