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Summary
It seemed that Zoro, too, was opting for as little clothing possible, a sweaty sheen from working out glistening on all his exposed skin in the sunlight that Sanji wanted to taste. He was only wearing a pair of tight, tiny dark green shorts, a white stripe of fabric decorating the hem, with an inseam that couldn't have been more than a couple inches. There was barely anything left to the imagination with him, too, the ridiculously small shorts hugging the bulge between his legs.
Blood rushed from Sanji's nose as soon as his eyes landed on it.
