The time between Oliver realizing Cal was home and the man materializing in the doorway to the kitchen was minuscule at best, but for a split second, he forgot about the mess. Despite the nature of Cal's occupation, his boyfriend was not very easily harmed, thanks to Crowley, but Oliver wouldn't be Oliver if he didn't still worry needlessly. For that reason among many others, he was always relieved when Cal finally made it home.
His face softened briefly before his features immediately turned to suspicion as he observed the way Cal's eyes flashed wickedly, and then of course there was his initial greeting. Pipe finally burst? Oliver narrowed his eyes, which considering his current appearance likely looked more comical than anything else, though truth be told Oliver was hard pressed to ever look very intimidating. That was Cal's job, not his.
"You knew about the pipe," Oliver conceded flatly, spoken more as an accusation than a general statement. Of course he'd known about the pipe, and very likely, he had his own reasons for ignoring it. Aziraphale's history with Crowley aside, Oliver knew Cal well enough by now to know that he was up to something. He was always up to something. It was one of the things Oliver loved so much about him, even when it was at his own expense. He knew what he was getting into, in a relationship with Cal.
Oliver had expected it to be a little strange at first, having Cal living in his apartment. Of course Cal had been inside his apartment with him plenty of times during the course of their relationship prior to moving in, but living in it was different. It wasn't a temporary occupation of Oliver's space, it was seeing Cal's clothes mixed in with his own. Cal's plants decorating the various corners and open spaces of his apartment. Seeing Cal every morning when he woke up, and seeing him every night when the last one got home (usually Cal, since Oliver's job rarely kept him past four o'clock). Honestly, it was even better than Oliver had ever predicted it could be. Not strange for an instant, just right.
One might say that they were living together in perfect harmony, at least for a demon and an angel.
Harmonious living arrangements aside, after six months of occupying the same space Oliver did privately agree that the place was too small for them. But at the time, Cal moving into his apartment was the only thing Oliver would agree to, since the alternative was moving into Cal's penthouse, which Oliver knew for a fact had been purchased with ill gotten gains. He accepted who Cal was, fully and completely, he just wasn't comfortable with certain moral lines. Which extended to but didn't stop at, living in a place that was paid for with blood money. He also knew that his current teacher's salary meant that trying to move anywhere else would be an issue under those conditions, so one might say that they were currently at a stalemate. Oliver had no ground left in this argument, but he was still unprepared to retreat or surrender just yet.
So, he couldn't help but suspect that the part Cal played in this little burst pipe episode was not only nefarious in nature, but also part of a much larger plot against Oliver in their ongoing housing battle.
Miracling himself dry with a careless wave, as well as the various spots on the floor around him where he'd been dripping, Oliver took another look around at the damage now undone with a certain amount of distressed satisfaction in the aftermath. "Yes, the books survived, though it was a near thing. I'm not even sure my students would have appreciated the metaphor of a waterlogged copy of Shakespeare," the angel added with a small moan. "No one takes Hamlet seriously anymore."