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The first time Nicholas kissed a girl he was nine. They were friends playing together and when she had jokingly dared him to kiss her, he did. Thinking nothing of it they both continued playing.
The first time Nicholas really kissed a girl the school disco was playing Careless Whisper and he was fourteen. It felt wet.
The first time Nicholas kissed a boy he was fifteen. The guy behind the counter at the offy hadn't even blinked as he sold the five of them cider and they had spent a stolen afternoon passing the bottle around and talking bollocks about how far they had got with girls and which ones were easy. The kiss had been a joke, as chaste as his kiss six years before, but in the flash of contact Nicholas suddenly realised why his friends seemed to be so intrigued by the whole idea.
The first time Nicholas got a blow job was a month later and thanks to Tom Cruise. He'd gone to see Top Gun with his mates for his birthday but, to his surprise, his girlfriend had also wanted to see it and he hadn't minded going again. At random moments he'd thought about Val Kilmer and wondered if he would ever be as cool as Iceman. While being as duly grateful to his girlfriend as any sixteen year old boy, he had this nagging feeling that something was missing. When his mind kept drifting back to the film he just put it down to the excitement of the movie they had just watched combining with the excitement of what was happening. His girlfriend dumped him two months later but he didn't really care, he just buckled down at school.
The first time Nicholas stayed away from home he was sixteen and trying to get a scholarship so he could stay in school. It wasn't that his family wanted him to drop out, they were proud of the grades he was getting, but his father needed his mother's full time care and the benefits they received only went so far. It was his maths teacher who, on hearing his plans to get a job rather than continue education, had pointed out that if he was considering the military they might not only pay for him to stay in school but that, if he did well enough, they might even send him to university if he wanted. Nicholas realised he did. Nicholas hadn't considered joining up until that moment but, when he reflected on it, it seemed a better alternative than most of the other jobs he could hope to get with just O-Levels, even if he got the top grades he was predicted. At sixteen the potential downsides of such a career choice didn't even occur to him. Nicholas was tempted by the RAF but his maths teacher was ex-army and had contacts whom Nicholas could talk to, which was how Nicholas found himself competing for an Army Sixth Form Scholarship.
The first time Nicholas had sex he was seventeen. The Living Daylights was showing and he had been seeing a girl he met in his A-Level psychology class for a few weeks. They were mostly friends, studying together and getting the occasional drink or catching a film when neither wanted to go alone. He found out later she had had a massive argument with her parents that morning and that he was the 'you' in the gigantic 'fuck you' she was aiming at them. At the time he was too busy thinking that dark-haired men in perilous situations seemed to be integral to his sex life. He thought about Bond and how suave he had seemed with whatever-the-name-of-the-Bond-girl was and worried that O-level biology, and the few sneaked magazines his school friends had passed around, seemed to have been missing a few vital points and that the whole thing would have gone a lot better if Bond had been there.
The first time Nicholas put a name to the thread of discontent that twisted through his personal life was when he was watching Withnail & I at the cinema with his girlfriend. She'd giggled nervously, enthralled and a little shocked as Monty pursued the eponymous 'I', and had apologised later for suggesting they see the film. Nicholas had said nothing but later that evening when they kissed he imagined that he had been in Monty's place and his advances hadn't been rejected. Afterwards, when he had seen his girlfriend home, he spent a long time thinking about what it meant and the coincidence of hair colour. If, after that night, he was quieter and more withdrawn than before no one noticed... but then he had always kept his own council.
The first time Nicholas had sex with another man he was in his first year at university. That the man had dark hair and green eyes did not surprise him, the excitement and frisson that even the most simple touches aroused in him did. It was a one night stand that lasted a long weekend. They kissed goodbye and went back to their respective courses and friends. When they saw one another around the university they exchanged greetings but otherwise didn't keep in touch. Mindful of the career he had decided on, and still wanted, Nicholas kept this new experience to himself but when future opportunities arose he took them discreetly.
The first time Nicholas realised he might die was in his final year. He revised for his finals against the televised soundtrack of the Gulf War and wondered whether or not it would be over by the time he got out of basic training. One of the guys who had been in the OTC on the same scholarship as Nicholas, graduating the year Nicholas arrived, had been posted out there. Everyone in the regiment kept one eye on the news as well as one on their books.
The first time Nicholas killed anyone he was leading a squad under a UN flag. He'd done eighteen months in Northern Ireland but luck as much as judgment had meant he'd never needed to fire live ammunition at anything other than a paper target. It had been an uncomfortable feeling, being hated, but he didn't react to the taunts that sometimes seemed a more bitter and constant danger than the threat of sniper attacks and car bombs which kept them at constant vigilance. He hadn't thought it got much worse without a declaration of war until his regiment was seconded to the peacekeeping mission in Bosnia and Herzegovina.
The first time Nicholas got approached by MI6 he thought it was a joke. After his tour was up he'd applied to the Foreign Office because, if his time in the army had taught him anything it was that the game was over by the time the troops were in the field and he was more interested in being one of the players than one of the pawns. His record as an officer was good, he'd played politics when he needed to to get what he wanted and had succeeded in getting a reputation for diplomacy but with a large measure of pragmatism and a willingness to back his words up with force when necessary. Nicholas was, he was told, exactly what MI6 was looking for. When Nicholas realised the offer was serious he thought about it for a week before accepting, visions of Bond and his mandatory string of women almost changing his mind despite assurances that not only was the reality of intelligence was nothing like the fiction but that the agency was well aware where his preferences lay.
The first time Nicholas used his sexuality as part of his job it was with a woman. He had been sent to gain her confidence and found, to his surprise, that the role of 'gay best friend' offered much more opportunity for infiltration and influence than seduction ever could. He conceded that Six did know what they were doing and set about bringing her around to the point of view that was considered desirable. Mission completed and identity uncompromised, he managed to part with his subject on such good terms that she and his fictional alter ego continued to exchange Christmas and birthday cards.
The first time Nicholas met Sir Mark Brydon in person his automatic reaction was to compare the physical reality to the dry profile he had been given. The dossier had been impressive reading: student politics, Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Syria, Isreal, Uzbekistan, Tyrgyztan, foreign adviser to the Prime Minister. Even with the date of birth in black and white, Nicholas had expected someone older and more statesman-like, not the suave and vibrant man who shook his hand and asked unexpectedly intelligent questions about the foibles of their host nation. As he watched Mark slide through the room as smoothly as a hot knife through butter he thought "this guy is going to be a handful". His second thought was along very similar but much more literal lines.
The first time Nicholas met Christopher Styles they were introduced by Carl Garcia. They both knew who the other was by report, if nothing else, and Carl later confided in Mark that while both had been implacably polite it had been like watching two tom cats circling each other, wary and ready to fight. International cooperation developed slowly, each aware that for everything shared three things were held back, even between allies, and it was their jobs to find out what those things were. However, shared understanding and mostly correlating orders did go a long way to ensuring respect for each other's positions and smoothing over any differences.
The first time Nicholas slept with Christopher he knew Christopher was after something more than sex however he was quite happy to go along with the sex while he worked out what that something was. Christopher was attractive, intelligent and an intriguing mix of repressed and adventurous that suited Nicholas well. In public their relationship was the same friendship-with-reservations that it had always been. In private they pretended that politics stayed outside the bedroom but at the same time they enjoyed the thrill of both resonance and dissonance that it caused between them. Like all contacts it was a relationship that could be counted on only so far, but Nicholas thought it was a more enjoyable one than most.
The first time Nicholas questioned his dedication to his job was when Mark told him what intended to do with the video of the 'terrorist' being coached. As he had told Mark, it was his job to prevent the type of information that Mark had from going public. It was just too damaging to be revealed to the public; an international incident waiting to happen. And Mark was just assuming that Nicholas would go along with his crazy scheme. What was stranger was that Nicholas was. But then he hadn't had time to think until that moment. He realised, watching Mark as he paced around the room, waiting for a call that was not going to come, that what he needed to do was find a way to reconcile his loyalties. He pulled out his phone and Mark's sharp eyes watched him for a moment before flicking away. Mark trusted him which was foolish. He moved away, giving himself as much privacy as he could. He didn't have much time and he had a coup to arrange, if not in Tyrgyztan then in London.
The first time Nicholas saw Mark break down was when he showed him the results of the paternity test he had quietly run on Azzam. Later, scotch in hand, Mark had whispered "but I have no idea how to raise a child" and Nicholas had known the choice about Azzam's future had been made. "Don't worry" Nicholas had assured him, "we'll work something out." He had thought he meant with the security and political issues right up until he saw the grateful look on Mark's face and realised he hadn't meant that at all.
The first time Mark kissed Nicholas, Nicholas wondered if that was where all his other first times had been leading.