Honestly, can’t tell if this is kink, fluff, angst, or all three
Sometimes, he just needed to get away.
He slipped on a different Mask, did his make-up the same way, and rolled vinyl pants up his legs. He slid on fishnet and big stompy boots, and headed out to a club that only knew him in this face and this guise.
You didn’t need to be an Empath, place like this, to know who was sick and who was dying, who was hurt or grieving, but Jamian used every power his Change had given him. He whispered a healing here, a soothing there, flirted with an angry man and took away his disease with a caresses and some nonsense words.
At the end of the night, he went home with a tired nurse with a healer complex, and let them both relax for a while.
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