Greek God
Artemis Fowl was seventeen and the number one criminal mastermind in the world. Butler was okay with that. After all, it was to be expected of anyone with a drop of Fowl blood in their body. What Butler was not okay with was the fact that, after accomplishing this extraordinary feat, Artemis Fowl decided he also had to be the most fit criminal mastermind in the world. Actually, no. That was part was fine; the kid could use time away from the room of blinking screens speaking a language only he understood. Spending that time away exercising, eating, and getting into a physical state any athlete would envy was even better.
The problem lay in the fact that, for an obsessive like Artemis Fowl, it was not enough to surpass the fifty year old men who had wasted their lives away in hidden manors falling prey to the paranoia brought on by power and greed. No, he had to look like a Greek god. Which brought about the current predicament.
Apparently, all Greek gods had to have a gorgeous tan—sans tan lines. It was bad enough that Artemis had turned paler than Count Dracula during his seventeen year marathon to the top of the ladder of the technological black market. It was impossibly worse that he was determined to rectify this in a matter of weeks, starting today. His solution? Lying on the rooftop balcony of Fowl Manor protected only by a thin layer of sunscreen—a layer so very thin and worked in so very well that it was invisible to the naked eye. Leaving a very naked Artemis Fowl very visible.
"Artemis, I don't believe this would be the way to go about this. There are creams, you know, and sprays."
"You're being foolish, Butler."
"I'm being foolish? Says the boy climbing naked onto the rooftop."
"I hear this is quite the trend in France." Artemis sounded mildly interested in Butler's attempts to 'rationalize' with him, but most of his focus was directed towards accessing the balcony through the only conventional portal: a window which looked too small for Butler to squeeze through if Artemis' life depended on it. Thankfully, Butler's Sensei had taught him that flexibility was the basis of strength—not that he was climbing out there under any circumstances.
Butler decided reason was still the way to go when concerning Artemis, whether he was impersonating a vampire or a gigolo. "I know the Manor and its grounds were built to give the impression of total seclusion, however, what with the technology today, it is entirely possible that somebody's watching you. You're not an exhibitionist, are you?" As soon as the sarcastic comment managed to bypass his frontal cortex and slide through his lips, Butler knew it was not the most tactful comment he'd ever made.
"Would it be a problem if I were?" Images of what Artemis was implying stampeded unbidden into Butler's mind. Luckily—for him or for Artemis?—Butler had a level of self-control that wasn't usually associated with good-looking well-muscled men of his stature.
Well, you can't stop the tide, but it's not impossible to redirect it. "You know, you could go for a swim. You'd get a full body workout, and apparently the UV rays are intensified by the water." And there's less visibility for—and of—all involved. Artemis did not so much as hesitate to pull the beach towel from around his waist and lay it down. Butler was forced to turn slightly and avert his eyes while clenching his jaw in a manner that his dentist told him was giving him a great jaw line but worn down molars. To his credit, he had been obliged to practice celibacy for several years—it only takes running to a Fowl's rescue with a boner once to realize no man's confidence can withstand the merciless teasing of a veritable genius.
"Myth." Fit or not, Artemis still was the intellectual he always had been. As hard as Artemis could make it to forget, Butler forgot more and more often as Artemis seized various opportunities to mature socially—opportunities presented by women and men who found his developing physique quite the opportunity.
"If you're so concerned about this, you have two plausible courses of action." Now Artemis was starting to sound exasperated. "Stay in there and risk others seeing me or come out here to make sure you're the only one seeing me."
Artemis was trying to sabotage either his life or his virginity; Butler was sure of it. He just wasn't sure which one.
The look that Artemis tossed him—that of the mythological Adonis inflamed by Aphrodite—erased all doubt from his mind. Artemis would live, but Butler was going to Hell.