Written for a self-set Kurt Hummel challenge to include 1 random dictionary word per day for 30 days. Dictionary word: idiosyncrasy.

dictionary definition:
1. a tendency, type of behaviour, mannerism, etc, of a specific person; quirk
2. the composite physical or psychological make-up of a specific person
3. an abnormal reaction of an individual to specific foods, drugs, or other agents

Pairing: Kadam
Words: 930
Genre: general / reflective - Reaction fic to 4 x 21
Rating: K
Summary:
"When you start falling in love with someone, everything about them is amazing." Adam's POV from the Winter Showcase up to 4x21.


Idiosyncracy

When you start falling in love with someone, everything about them is amazing. Every single feature, every little idiosyncrasy, from the sound of their voice to the way they lick their lips. You adore their scent even after a hard work-out or a long day, and you'd probably cuddle their worn sweaters in bed if it wasn't too creepy. It's like an addiction: you collect everything there is about them in your mind. You memorise the curve of their ear, you count the freckles on their nose and the specks of colour in their eyes just so you can feel that little spark of happiness when you come across that number (of pencils on your desk, of sheets in your notebook, of stars in the sky) because it automatically reminds you of them. Your love travels with you where ever you go.

For Adam, it's the same. When he first sees Kurt at the Winter Showcase, he is astounded- and he falls hard. It becomes difficult to remember how he ever got by without knowing Kurt, and he spends days trying to think of ways to make Kurt aware of his existence too. If feels like everything suddenly makes sense, like he has found something he didn't even know he was looking for – if there was ever a question as to why he's here, Kurt must be the answer.

He notices Kurt's hesitation. The other man is reserved, and of course he is – Adam may have admired him from afar for weeks but Kurt has never noticed him. Still, it's impossible for Adam to keep compliments from spilling over his lips. He wants to comment everything but tries to pick his favourite (and least stalker-sounding), allows himself to praise one single feature every time they meet, because he doesn't want Kurt to feel uncomfortable. Kurt's deflection of his attention does not deter him; if Kurt isn't convinced of his own magnificence, Adam will help him see it.

Slowly they get to know each other. Adam learns the reasons for Kurt's reluctance to get closer, and if anything, admires him even more for it. He is now more determined than ever to make Kurt see what he gives to the world simply by existing. But as his infatuation shifts into the realm of love, Adam also begins to see the things hidden under the veil of fondness. The way Kurt shuts down and compartmentalises when he's pressed too hard; how his biases sometimes make him judge people too harshly or quickly; the limited frame of reference he measures everything by because of his youth. It doesn't make Adam love him less. It makes him human, less intimidating, and for the first time since they met, Adam feels that maybe they can be equals- that Kurt might learn something from him the way he learns new things from Kurt every day, and the thought of that is a little scary but also exciting.

When Kurt's father is treated for his cancer, it's time Adam puts what he has learned into practise. He knows Kurt well enough by now to see that this added stress enlarges traits that were already there (and that his sudden need to influence his environment does not, as Rachel claims, appear out of nowhere). Kurt has always kept a tight control over himself, his appearance, and has even tried to influence his effect on others by picking his wardrobe and words more carefully than others might. He keeps his cards close to his chest because it comforts him to know he controls all the information. But now, he is trying to spread that control to the uncontrollable; to the random.

Adam doesn't try to keep him from it – if Kurt needs to measure his breakfast cereal in portions of four (spoons of wheaties, cups of milk, and a quartered piece of fruit) or if it calms him down to see everything on the table laid out in perfect forty-five degree angles of the table edge, then that's what he has to comply with for now. But he doesn't pretend not to notice like Santana does, or try to endorse it by emulating his ticks like Rachel (who superstitiously adapts her brush stroke count to even numbers divided by four and banishes all non-pastel colours from her wardrobe). He knows this is something they will need to confront when the worst is over.

Until then, he soothes Kurt at night when he stays over and gives him things to count to calm his nerves. He challenges Kurt to discover seven scars on his body and tells him seven stories of a childhood spent climbing (and falling down) trees, rough soccer games and irresponsible experiments with matches until Kurt is laughing at the clumsy idiot that is the younger version of his mature boyfriend. He gives him fourteen kisses working his way down from the top of Kurt's head to this nose and his lips and further, and almost makes Kurt lose count when he gets to twelve and his belly button. And finally, he tells Kurt four things about him that he loves, different things every night, crazy little anecdotes about the sound of his snoring (I do not snore! Kurt insists, Shut up, you do, and it's adorable like a baby kitten, Adam counters) or bigger things like his courage or his amazing talent.

One evening, when he comes up to three and Kurt's mouth is on his, effectively shutting him up before he reaches his magical number, Adam hopes it means Kurt is healing.