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Gojo doesn't bother trying to keep his hands to himself when it's just the three of them. At first it's just excessive PDA while they talk work. Gojo makes Yuuji sit in his lap and gives him little kisses on the cheek or temple whenever Yuuji starts to look bored, but gradually the kisses move lower and lower as Gojo starts to get bored, until he's sucking hickeys into the base of Yuuji's neck. He slips one hand up Yuuji's shirt, pinky tucked under the waistband of his pants, and uses the other to knead at Yuuji's inner thighs.
Of course Yuuji tries to squirm away. "Not here," he hisses, and his eyes dart nervously between his lover and his lover's best friend. Geto gives him a benign smile, carrying the conversation by himself, but his dark eyes are focused on where Gojo's hands grope at his body.
"It's just Suguru," is what Gojo says, like this isn't a big deal at all. He's unashamedly hard under Yuuji's ass, and—if Gojo doesn't stop touching him, soon—Yuuji knows he's not far off from ending up the same way. "We don't keep any secrets between us," Gojo says, casual.
There's a difference between secrets and sex, Yuuji thinks, but the protest never makes it out of his mouth. Instead he's biting off a shocked yelp when Gojo pinches his nipple, just hard enough where even the pain feels good.
"Don't be mean, Satoru," Geto chides, and Yuuji wants to crawl inside a hole and die.
Gojo tsks. "It's fine," he insists, voice on the edge of a pout. "Yuuji likes it when I'm rough." But his thumb smooths gently over Yuuji's nipple, almost apologetic.
Geto hums, considering. "Is that true, Yuuji-kun?"
Yuuji makes the mistake of meeting his eyes, and underneath Geto's concerned demeanor is an amusement that's almost cruel. Yuuji hides his flushed face behind his hands, embarrassment making his whole body twist with heat.
"Can we please not do this?" he begs, and for some reason, Gojo takes that as his cue to palm his cock, gripping Yuuji firm and hot through his clothes. He gasps for breath. "P-Please—"
"Of course, Yuuji," Geto says kindly, and he resumes talking about whatever upcoming mission they have, like nothing had ever happened.
But Gojo doesn't stop. "I told you," he says, when Yuuji can't help bucking his hips up into his touch. Tears gather, burning, in the corners of his shut eyes, and he shoves his fist tight against his mouth to try to keep quiet.
"Didn't I tell you, Suguru?" Gojo sounds so smug, like he's bragging. "Isn't he so pretty when he's desperate?"
Geto doesn't falter, his smooth voice continuing to discuss the details of the mission, and Yuuji can almost, almost pretend that everything's fine, that Geto isn't watching, or that Gojo had listened to him when he'd asked to stop, or that the shame that Yuuji feels right now doesn't make him all the more turned on.
But he can't escape the heavy weight of eyes on him, a phantom, unwelcome touch.
His own eyes snap open when Gojo undoes his fly, and Yuuji shakes his head, frantic.
"No," he pleads. The tears break free, streaming down his face. "No, I don't wanna. Not in front of—"
He makes eye contact with Geto again and freezes at the sight of his smile. There's nothing kind about it, and sudden fear makes Yuuji jolt backwards, further into Gojo's hold.
"It's just Suguru," Gojo says again, shushing him like Yuuji's a spooked horse.
And before Yuuji's even realized it, his cock is out in the open, covered only by Gojo's hand when he starts to jerk him off.
"Please." Yuuji doesn't know what he's asking for at this point. He wants to stop, but at the same time, he really, really doesn't.
Gojo's always known how to make him feel good, and this time is no different. Even with his unwanted voyeur, Yuuji's uncomfortably turned on, and—maybe, if he were being completely honest—it's because Geto is watching that's got him so close to the edge already.
Yuuji's a mess. He sniffles, wiping at his cheeks, and turns to hide his face in his lover's neck when Geto's gaze gets to be too much. Still, almost against his will, his legs spread wider, and he rocks himself up into Gojo's tight grip, chasing the pleasure of his hand.
"You're right," Geto says, and he's not talking about the mission anymore. Yuuji's breaths come in wet, shaking gasps, and his thighs tremble—with the imminent need to come, with the desperate urge not to do it here, in front of a man who is not his lover.
"He is very pretty," Geto continues, and Yuuji absolutely sobs, the praise getting tangled hot around his groin, like a second hand.
"N-No," he tries again, but his voice is laughably weak, dry and parched after crying so much. "Please don't make me—"
"C'mon now," Gojo murmurs in his ear. "Don't be rude, Yuuji. Suguru just gave you a compliment." Gojo's other hand grips him firmly by the jaw, forcing his head to turn forward.
... towards Geto.
"No! No, please—" Yuuji's spellbound, unable to look away, but Geto isn't trapped like he is. His gaze sweeps down Yuuji's body, deliberately lingering.
"What do we say, Yuuji?" Gojo prods, like Yuuji's just a troublesome toddler. "What do we say when we get a compliment, hm?"
Geto meets his eyes again, and he smiles like a fox, sly and cunning. Yuuji hiccups.
"Th-Thank you," he says, voice breaking, and he comes, completely helpless.
Before Yuuji can even start to piece his feelings back together, Gojo grinds up into him with a soft sigh. "My turn next, right, Yuuji?" His fingers trail meaningfully down, toward Yuuji's hole.
Geto's smile only mocks him.