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Diwi mumbles nonsense to himself. "Pivoting in the shower is the only real way to do it. Who stands completely stationary while they wash up? Obviously you need to spin around like a rotisserie chicken." He knows how silly he sounds, but he doesn't really care, because the only thing he has the actual need to build nerves up over is what was coming up in almost exactly an hour. His guts were abound with knots and ties, and he honestly felt more nervous than excited. It didn't mean he wasn't excited! He for sure was! Edd was always a delight. He would get all worked up and anxious before the date, and every time he met up with him, all the tension dissolved in a snap. It happened every time, and he knew he was worried about nothing because it happened every time. But he worried anyway. Ain't that anxiety for you.
He takes a razor to his legs. God, when was the last time he shaved? He hasn't seen Edd in a few weeks(He was on vacation! To the army...), so it must have been since then. If it was, holy shit, his hair grew fast. He looks like a fucking yeti. Edd would be disgusted. It all had to come off, minus the beard of course; Who could hate the beard? Outlandishly styled to wrap around his lower face in three perfect points, caressing his chin like the gold star sticker of a well-behaved kindergarten child. His beard is something he can take pride in, because it's mildly silly, and he knows it. And Edd knows it. It was one of the first things he said when they started dating: "Y'know, Diwi, your beard is striking. It really balances out the rest of your face." Remembering the comment, he turns a tinge of pink. He's still totally starstruck from that. Edd is just the sweetest person you could ever date, because he always knows what to say and when to say it. It's like he's just got automated responses stockpiled in his brain and he just lets loose every time he needs to. He quietly giggles to himself. What a charismatic man, that Edd. He appears so simple on the outside, maybe even a little slow or dumb. Just a dimwitted man in a light green sweatshirt is all he seems to be to the naked eye. But when you get a closer look, he has all these nuances and traits that make him stand above the crowd. Like his humor! Diwi has never met anyone as punny as Edd! He's so clever with his words, and you know that, because if he sees an opportunity, he stops and thinks of something actually funny rather than low-brow like most others would. People are so quick to jump on bandwagons of shared jokes and uninnovative humor. Not Edd. He knows what he's doing with that brain of his. And Diwi likes that.
The hair needs to stay too. It looked vile now. The water had his skin and hair feeling extra grimy, and his greasy hair was to be washed the second he finished shaving(onto the arms now!), but if he puts some conditioner in, it'll be silky to the touch. He loves taking care of his hair. Styling it and putting waves in it is his favorite bit, but giving it a good scrub was especially satisfying if he was angry or anxious. And he sure is the latter. He hadn't taken a shower the day before thinking that he could get away with it until now, but his hair requires all the upkeep it can get. It's not his fault; His mother's hair was the same. He can remember having her kneel down in front of her and he would braid her hair for her. It always needed to be up, or else it got aggressively frizzy. Luckily Diwi's isn't that sensitive, but it still needs to be maintained every day. Not that he minds. Hair care is his thing. He doesn't run a barber shop for nothing, baby! Smiling while styling since... three months ago, but still! It would be his lifetime achievement, he figured. And it'd be a pretty good one.
He wipes his dripping hair out of his eyes and finishes his arms. He scans himself for any other areas, and then closes in on one...
Ugh. The nether regions. How Diwi hates shaving there before dates. He tries to be good about it and clean it out before he knows a date is coming soon- he does like being clean-shaven most of the time, really -but this time he slipped and let it grow out far more than, A. was comfortable for him, and B. he would have liked to have it a mere hour before his date. He begrudgingly starts the chore, but manscaping like this before dates always gets him thinking about things... He prefers not to relay them, because he feels extremely guilty for even thinking about it, but he totally finds Edd attractive physically. It's so effortless to look beautiful if you're Edd. He's strong enough to get by, but on the thinner side, which is balanced out by his oversized hoodies of choice. Really, there's something for everyone in a man like him. And Diwi is pleased any way you slice it.
But thinking about anything more than the kiss they share on every date just gets him feeling like a crappy person. He knows that they both want something more, but he doesn't know when Edd wants that something, and he doesn't want to assume, either. It seems extremely rude to initiate a date with someone with the expectation from the start that by the end of the night you'll be five inches deep in them. To use someone for cheap sex... What an inhumane thing to do. Which is why Diwi doesn't want to. But the more he thinks, the more he fears he may be overthinking it. Which only makes him overthink more. The shoulder angel on his right shoulder is telling him to calm himself; Things will happen when they happen, and he'll know what Edd wants when he wants it. The shoulder devil on his left shoulder is telling him to keep on worrying. And a third voice, something deep in his head, is telling him to prepare for it tonight.
"How about we come over to my place next time?" Edd offered at the end of their last rendezvous. "You can come over to my place! We'll have dinner and a movie or two, and then... I dunno. We'll just hang out. What do you think?" And when Edd asked that question, Diwi thought that he might have seen a suggestive brow raise to complement his smirk. He doesn't know if he was seeing things that night. Maybe he was imagining it. Past him didn't seem to immediately notice and just responded, "Of course, sounds great!" And then they said their pleasantries and goodbyes and split. Dumbass! He thought soon after. He should have asked Edd what he meant! Body language isn't everything, though. Maybe he didn't mean to. Diwi knows he isn't great with physical expression either, so he can relate if it was just a misfire of a neuron or a rogue muscle twitch. But that's the thing: He doesn't know. So is he to prepare, or not? If he erred to the side of caution and told himself it wasn't happening, he knew he'd freeze up once any sexual tension did begin to build, and then the moment would be ruined. But if he were brash and thought it were, once he was sent on his way he'd feel like an asshole for expecting something more out of it. Edd was going to be cooking for him, for god's sake. He doesn't have the right to expect anything.
Diwi catches himself going down a spiral, and the second he's all clear down there, he takes a deep breath. It's not a big deal. Really. He puts down the razor. What happens happens. Go with the flow.
He grabs one of his several shampoo bottles from the shower shelf, and when he tips it over, into his hand squirts a puddle of rose-tinged white. He suds up his hands and gets to scrubbing, hard enough to degrease his roots, but soft enough so he isn't irritating his head even more. Let's focus on the good, shall we? What's Edd making for dinner? Diwi scrubbed with one hand and put his finger from his other hand on his chin in thought. He could feel the soapy lather course down his arm. "Maybe..." He snickers as he pivots again to move further away from the shower head, "Rotisserie chicken!" And he squeezes his eyes shut and laughs and laughs until he starts to taste soap in his mouth. Then he spits it out on the shower floor and gets back to scrubbing.
Maybe there's not so much to worry about after all.