Tags: Wholesome, and sweeter then candy.
Summary: 2012!Donnie has been waiting for the right time to confess to you, his thoughts of you being profound and wonderous.
"Mind making something for Donnie?? I want to cry from cuteness."
He never took the time to remember when he started becoming so... poetic.
But he didn't give a nickel and a thimbles plastic shard about it. It's how you did. But he wondered why men weren't more like him, men that had his approach to loving someone so much.
You were his star. His ball of hot air. His shining light to guide him across uncharted waters to his destiny. You were bright, but dim when you wanted to go unnoticed, dull and void during the day and quiet until the blanket of night covered all of New York.
He loved the night because of you. Cherished the moments the two of you shared, the memories.
"Donnie, are we still on for using my new telescope tonight to look at the stars? Please tell me you didn't start another project without me!" You were leaned against him when you had whined about it. His first date with you or what he considered to be so.
"Wouldn't miss it. It gives me a chance to observe some of the shifts in the stars from the last full moon." He had his trained responses ready that day, but he'd been bold and wrapped his arm around your waist as you flickered and smiled at him brightly as he worked. "That's my D." Was your little quip. Your 'D', certainly was an odd way of putting claim to him in any way.
But he simply smiled and went off to collect all he'd need for this. For you. God's if there was a way to explain just how bright you burned to him. A picnic basket, cookies Raph had begrudgingly made for him so you'd get a homely feeling after the two of you would be situated, snacks like plain potato chips and cheese and meats to go with it, sparkling waters and regular waters, and a picnic blanket on top.
The shellraiser needed to be cleaned out, washed, and freshened up with some new modifications. Not a problem for the genius in his element.
"Blind spot on your right," he murmured into the comm as the shellraiser rumbled past the last recognizable street signs of the city. You'd insisted on driving, despite his protests about the modified controls he'd only just installed last week.
"I see it, D," you replied, expertly maneuvering around a pothole that would have swallowed a smaller vehicle whole. Your confidence behind the wheel always left him in awe—just one more thing to add to his ever-growing list of reasons why you burned brighter than Betelgeuse in his universe.
The city fell away behind you, concrete jungle thinning into actual trees as you followed the route he'd mapped out. A place where light pollution couldn't steal the stars away, where Venus would be visible in all her glory.
"Three more miles," he said, checking his tablet. "There's an old observatory platform that nobody uses anymore. Perfect elevation, minimal interference."
You hummed in response, a melody he couldn't quite place but that settled into his bones like it belonged there. "Is this the surprise you've been mumbling about in your sleep?"
Heat flooded his face. "I don't mumble in my sleep."
"Sure you don't," you teased, flashing him that grin that made his heart stumble every time. "Just like you don't snore either."
"That's—I—" he spluttered, then caught your smirk in the rearview mirror. "You're impossible."
"That's why you keep me around." You winked, turning the shellraiser onto a narrow road that wound upward.
The vehicle groaned as it climbed, but soon enough you'd reached the clearing he'd discovered during late-night satellite image searches. An abandoned concrete platform overlooked the valley below, with the faint glow of the city visible only as a distant haze.
"Donnie," you whispered as you stepped out, neck craned toward the sky. "It's perfect."
He couldn't look up yet. Couldn't tear his eyes away from the way starlight played across your features, casting shadows and highlighting contours he'd memorized but never tired of studying.
"Venus should be visible right about..." he checked his watch then pointed to a spot just above the eastern horizon, "there."
You followed his gesture, your telescope already halfway set up. "Oh my god," you breathed. "She's beautiful."
"Yeah," he agreed, not looking at the sky at all. "Beautiful."
The telescope forgotten, you both lay sprawled on the picnic blanket, heads tilted back to take in the vast canopy of stars. The cookies Raph had made were long gone, crumbs still clinging to the corner of your mouth that Donnie fought the urge to brush away.
"Did you know," he began, unable to help himself, "that Venus is the only planet named after a female goddess?"
"The goddess of love," you added, rolling onto your side to face him.
"And beauty," he continued, swallowing hard. "The ancient Romans thought she was so bright because she was special. Different from all the other wandering stars."
You smiled. "Is this your roundabout way of comparing me to Venus?"
"Is it that obvious?" He chuckled nervously, adjusting his glasses.
"Only because I know you." Your hand found his in the darkness, fingers intertwining. "You get this particular tone when you're being romantic through science facts."
"You absolutely do," you insisted. "Your voice gets all soft and technical at the same time. It's my favorite Donnie-voice."
He fell silent, the weight of that statement settling over him like a warm blanket. You had categorized his voices. Had a favorite. Were paying that much attention.
"You know," he said finally, gaze drifting back to the sky, "astronomers once thought Venus might be habitable. A sister planet to Earth. They were wrong, of course—it's a hellscape of sulfuric acid rain and crushing atmospheric pressure."
You snorted. "Way to kill the romantic mood, D."
"No, that's not—" He propped himself up on one elbow, suddenly earnest. "What I mean is, even the most beautiful things can be dangerous. Unpredictable. But that doesn't make them any less worth exploring. Worth understanding."
Your expression softened as you realized what he was trying to say.
"Venus is crossing paths with Earth tonight," he continued, voice barely above a whisper. "Closest approach. Won't happen again for years."
"And you brought me here to see it?" You squeezed his hand.
"I brought you here because..." He hesitated, the words tangling in his throat. All his technical knowledge, all his genius, and he still couldn't articulate the simplest truth. "Because there's no one else I'd rather watch the stars with. No one else who makes me feel like I'm more than just a brain in a shell. When I'm with you, even the celestial mechanics I've studied my whole life feel new. Magical."
You shifted closer, your warmth radiating through the cool night air. "Donnie?"
"You're doing it again. The poetic thing."
He smiled sheepishly. "Can't help it. You're my Venus."
"Sulfuric acid rain and all?" you teased.
"The beautiful part," he clarified quickly. "The part that outshines everything else. The part worth crossing paths with, no matter how rarely it happens."
You leaned forward then, resting your forehead against his. Above you, a million stars witnessed the moment your lips met his—a cosmic event all its own, the convergence of two celestial bodies finding their perfect orbit at last.
