The bustle of Venice caught Geoff's attention as he wandered the streets. He probably should have grabbed a gondola to take him to the cafe where he was meeting his guide, but Geoff liked mingling with the crowds and getting to know a city by its people.
So far, the Venetians seemed like most big city people: busy with their lives and uninterested in the stranger amongst them. Not to say any of them were rude or anything like that. They just had other things to worry about in their lives.
He glanced down at the map in his hand and spied the street he wanted. After tucking the paper in his backpack, he strolled down the sidewalk, excitement building with each step. Italy. The birthplace of Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo. Where Galileo studied the universe. God, Geoff had wanted to visit forever, but he was on official university business. Someday, though, he would come back to be a tourist and spend days wandering the canals of Venice and the streets of Rome.
As he approached the cafe, he spotted a man sitting alone at one of the outdoor tables. His shoulder-length hair hung loose around his face, framing a visage as elegant and classical as Michelangelo's David. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes from view, but a slight frown turned down the corners of the man's lips as he glanced at his watch.
Geoff turned away to stare at the canal next to the cafe before the man noticed him staring. The Italian men he'd met seemed confident enough not to mind being checked out by another guy, but he wasn't going to risk it. Reaching down, he discreetly adjusted his erection, trying to give it some more breathing room in his pants. That slightly bored, slightly annoyed air the man wore turned Geoff on. He wanted to figure out how to make the man smile or moan, for that matter.
Waiting for someone, but who? Was he waiting for his wife while she shopped some of the small stores along the street? Maybe a lover he would sweep off her feet to a clandestine romp in one of the hotels a few streets over?
Geoff laughed silently. He was always good at making shit up. Maybe that's why he took to archaeology so fast. In a certain way, it was very much like creating a story out of the pieces of artifacts he dug up. Yet he tried to stick as close to the truth as possible while writing up reports on his dig sites.
Maybe the man waited for a male lover to sweep him off his feet. There was nothing wrong in fantasizing about being the man the Italian waited for.