They stopped at Hux's quarters, where he picked up his toiletries, pajamas, the next day's uniform, and a few other items before heading to Ren's room. Once there, he set down his things and checked the datapad. His stomach sank. The requisition request for a bed had been given an estimated fulfillment date of three cycles from now. "I don't know what else I was expecting, given the priority of repairs to life support and rescue operations," he muttered to himself. Hux resolutely typed in a request for escalation, already knowing it wouldn't help.
Ren smirked at him. "You could call them. You are a general."
"I am aware of my rank," he snapped, offended by Ren's misplaced sense of privilege. "Unlike others, I have no intention of abusing it. You know what this looks like." He gestured at Ren's bed, daring Ren to admit he was going to take advantage of his powers and new title to force himself on his subordinate.
Ren shrugged. "The code of conduct doesn't apply to the supreme leader. I don't think anyone would think less of me in any case."
"I can't tell if you're aware everyone already thinks ill of you or if I'm such a prize as to be worth the gossip." The first possibility was dangerously close to an insult. The second was Hux continuing to test the waters to see what was going on. There was only one bed in the room, not even a couch, and Hux wasn't going to sleep on the floor like a bivouacked soldier. If he was to continue his duties on the morrow, then he needed decent rest.
"Could be both."