One takes Innocent!Sportacus to its logical conclusion. Disclaimer: I believe in their friendship wholeheartedly, but I'm not a SportaSteph 'shipper, I only used Stephanie because Robbie wouldn't work for this.
Stephanie felt like crying. She couldn't believe she'd done that.
Now, the frantic pleasure just a memory, she felt wrong-bad-dirty.
He was asleep, a troubled look on his handsome face, thanks to his 8:08 bedtime having come shortly after they did.
She hated herself for doing that to him, sullying his innocence for the sake of carnal pleasure.
"You're such a slut, Stephanie," she berated herself as she wandered the airship gathering her clothes. "Selfish. Wanton. Rapist." The latter realisation hit her hard.
She sat, and let the tears come.
Sportacus awoke to the distant sound of his crystal on the floor, and Stephanie gone. There was a brief moment of panic as he connected the two, but it was over when he realised Stephanie had only left the bed, not the airship. He got up to go her, heedless of his state of undress.
"Stephanie?"
She looked up, eyes red-rimmed from crying, her clothing piled in her lap. "What?"
"Are you all right? I didn't hurt you when we..." he trailed off, lacking the vocabulary to describe the evening's activities.
"No, you didn't hurt me. I just realised I did something bad."
Sportacus was confused. "That was bad? Why?"
Stephanie shook her head. "You didn't do anything wrong, I did."
"I don't understand..."
"Exactly. I knew you didn't understand, and you can't say 'yes' and mean it if you don't know what you're saying 'yes' to."
"Oh. It's not that bad, though?"
"But it is. Doing what I did to you when the other person doesn't want it is one of the worst, wickedest ways to hurt someone."
"I don't feel hurt, Stephanie." He sat beside her on the floor, frowning. "Is that why you're crying? You thought you hurt me? I'm fine, just sleepy and a little sticky." He put a hand on her shoulder, and she brushed it off.
"It's more complicated than that," she said. "Look, I have a curfew, so I really have to go now." She stood, and pulled her underpants out of the pile of clothing, putting them on. By the time she finished, Sportacus had retrieved the undergarment she'd been wearing on top, and handed it to her mutely. She took it, and tried to put it on, but her hands were shaking, and she couldn't get the hooks at the back done up.
"Want some help?" Sportacus asked. She nodded.
He stood, walked behind her, and took the fastenings. "How tight?" he asked when he realised there were three rows of eyes for the hooks.
"Second row, thank you," she replied quietly. He fastened it, and she leaned forward and jiggled, adjusting the shoulder straps as she did so. It was a fascinating image, and Sportacus had to restrain himself from touching her, as the ... heat from before started to build again.
She pulled her dress on, stuffed her stockings and the underpants she wore over them into her bag, and then sat down to put her shoes and socks on, fingers fumbling with the laces. She finally got them done up, stood, and walked to the spot on the floor where it dropped down for access to the ladder.
"Good bye," she said, eyes on the floor.
"'Bye," he echoed hopelessly. She was clearly still convinced she'd hurt him, and didn't seem ready to forgive herself, and he wondered if this was really goodbye, the end of the friendship.