Undetale: One-shots & Lone-shots

FreshPaper

Tying his shoes and standing carefully, Fresh decided to do some night skating. He was just now getting back to his dorm from work, the time being 10 pm. His classes started from 4 am and ended at 10 am. This being a clean and good 7 hours of school. Once he got done with his classes, he had to go to work from 1 pm to 9 pm. Which is yet another good set of hours. So, all in all, he got in good school time, good work time, and good study time.

Exiting his dorm, he stepped down the carpeted hallway, wanting to be sure that he was at least being quiet since many others would be either asleep or studying at the very least. 
Once down the two flights of stairs by sliding his rear down the rails like the smooth and cool guy that he is, he was now at the doors, opening one of them slowly as to not make noise, slipping out of it and closing it back slowly. 

The breeze is what made a smile immediately come to his face. Taking off his shirt and throwing it over his shoulder, being in a neon pink tank-top. As it was tight enough, yet loose enough, and the sleeves being long enough to show his ribs. Feeling the cool night breeze run though his ribs like he himself was a soon to be finished building was always one of the best feelings to experience. Especially after multiple days of nonstop school and work. No breaks in between.

So, now that he was out, it was time to go for that late night skating. And the first place that he would tackle would be the skate park just a few miles ahead. Yes, his college did have one but, it wasn't like the one that he usually goes to. 

It simple just doesn't feel the same.

Once he was there, the sight of the night lights immediately coming on due to his presence being there was always a sight to behold. Seeing the gold outlines, the big and small graffiti, the concrete benches, the metal benches, the table- all of it was just nostalgia inducing.
So, taking off his shades and putting them in his pocket, it was time to make the most of the night while he was out.

Once it struck 1 am, Fresh was done. Currently he was sitting down at one of the benches, leaned back while huffing softly, looking up at the moon that was rather big in the night sky. It was shining brightly. A bright and beautiful white crescent for all on this side of the planet to see. It looked almost like the moons that you would see on those kids TV shows.
And if you imagined hard enough, you might have been able to see a kid. Sitting back, one leg knee up, the other relaxed. Fishing rod in hand and waiting to catch something. ..Maybe a fish. ..Maybe a star.

The sight and imagination made him smile all over again, now having a sense of his breath again. And since he was sitting down for a good little bit of time, the lights above couldn't register a presence anymore, as they shut off. Since this happened, someone would immediately get a since of something awry. Not Fresh though. 
Equal parts because of what he is, and the fact that he could defend himself very easily, very well, so he had nothing to really worry about. 

..Though he did have one thing to worry about, and that was having the sudden and random taste for something sweet. With this random and sudden thought, a blush came to his face, remembering what he and PJ did at least a week ago.
Remembering those pink thighs that gently cupped the sides of his head. The view of him from down below. The soft yet plump orifice that was pressed against his lips and chin. The hold that he had on him. The sounds that were produced from his lips. The look in his eyes.

That look in his eyes..

..Shaking the thought away before he went of a thought train, he pulled his casual shoes from a pocket window, tossing his skates into it in return. Putting his shoes on, which here heelys in disguise, he flipped backward over the bench and then made his way. The particular bench that he was sitting on being a slight bit out of the range of the lights, the light of the moon illuminating his way. Rolling down the sidewalk in his usual cool and smooth style.