Kirk's chest still ached from the rough encounter with Spock, his ribs bruised beneath the uniform as he staggered into the medbay. Blood matted his hair where a cut from the fight had left a streak of red across his forehead, but it wasn’t the physical pain that bothered him. That, he could handle. What stung more was the fact that he’d pushed Spock too far. The Vulcan’s eyes had burned with an anger Kirk had never seen before. And yet, somehow, Spock was the one to relinquish command.

But he had to do it- Spock himself- well, future Spock from a whole different timeline made that clear well he was stuck on Delta Vega. He had to take command.

He ran a hand through his tousled hair, attempting to fix himself before stepping into the medbay, but even in his attempt to smooth things over, he still wore the aftermath of a brutal encounter. His jaw clenched as he saw them—you—standing there, arms folded, an expression of disappointment etched across your face. For a moment, he hesitated. There was a long silence, broken only by McCoy's disapproving mutterings in the background.

“Can’t say I’m surprised, Jim,” McCoy grumbled, but Kirk tuned him out for a second. His focus was entirely on you. He could feel the weight of your glare, and damn it, it was worse than any injury he’d sustained. He wanted to smile, offer a joke, anything to break the tension, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not with you looking at him like that.

He stepped closer, his voice lower, tinged with the weariness of someone who had just gone through far too much. “Come on… I know you’re mad. But I’ve got a few bruises that could use some attention.” He almost regretted the playful tone, but he couldn’t stop himself.

He leaned in a little, eyes hopeful, lips curving into the smallest of grins, even if he knew it was likely to get him nowhere. "Maybe a kiss for the new acting captain?" He could tell you were baffled at how he could sneak onto the ship, cause so much trouble and become acting captain in less than a day.