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Summary
“So, the tattoo on your hip,” He says as Alex approaches him again, not even pretending to not have looked. “What does it mean?”
“Oh, yeah, that one,” Alex laughs a little awkwardly, testing the angle of the needle and the position of his arms before looking up at George. “It’s my husband’s initials and his favorite number. Pretty big declaration, I know,” he feels his cheeks warm, and ignores it to favour saying; “So, you ready? It’ll sting just a bit, but it’ll be over just as fast as it started, promise.”
George watches him for a second, eye contact way more intense than what the situation calls for, and nods. “Sure, go for it.”
Alex doesn’t need to make his nipple hard because it already is. He tries not to think about it as he aligns the needle and gently holds his chest, counting down from five before he pushes the needle through. George groans above him and Alex begs that his cock hasn’t heard the sound too.
Or the one where F1 driver George Russell goes to get his nipple pierced at Alex Albon's tattoo parlor. Alex has no idea who he is, but his husband Max Verstappen seems to know him a little more than he lets on. It gets complicated.