Oliver's expression turned shy with that brush of hair away from his forehead, in the moment nearly forgetting the transgression altogether. Not that he was actually shy with Cal anymore, the two had been together long enough to remove any trace of shyness in their relationship (Oliver did still embarrass quite easily, and that was unlikely to ever change). There was just quite simply nothing else like the intensity of a demon's undivided attention, or at least this demon's.
He'd spent most of his life making himself smaller to accommodate everyone else, but with Cal, he never felt small. Oliver could be himself with him. Two years later, he still sometimes found himself unexpectedly humbled by it, and so even though he was a whole two inches taller than him, Oliver rarely noticed. When he looked at Cal, all he saw was him.
Anyone else might say that Cal had already given him a thousand reasons to walk away, but in Oliver's mind, Cal had only continued to give him reasons to stay. Then again, their little routine of give and take was admittedly very different from most couples. Outside of Aziraphale and Crowley themselves, the average person would likely never be able to truly understand what made their relationship work. Yes, there was the occasional meddling and the even more frequent thwarting. But forever was an awfully long time, too long to get so hung up on the little things. Sometimes it was Cal who swayed to Oliver's divine influence, but just as often, it was Oliver bending ever so slightly to Cal's dastardly ways.
In their own relationship, Cal still found reason to misbehave now and again, but it was never serious, and also paled in comparison to the ways he no doubt tended to misbehave outside the walls of their apartment. The very nature of his occupation meant that most of the time, Oliver would have preferred not to know the details. Except, every time he got them, he knew it was because Cal loved him enough to tell him the truth. He'd been telling Oliver the truth since they first met, when he could have fibbed his way around what his family did for a living, but he hadn't.
After that, Oliver never even had to ask if Cal was lying to him, he just knew.
The thought had, of course, crossed his mind that Cal's more demonically inclined influence may have extended to what became the end result of this evening's water logged events, but he hadn't had any real proof other than he knew his boyfriend extremely well. The fact also remained that the pipe had still been a problem long before whatever part Cal had played in its demise, but Oliver wasn't prepared to acknowledge that yet.
It seemed Cal had other ideas, though.
"Now, hold on just a minute, there-" Oliver looked on in horror as the other man made a show of getting out his phone while making idle threats, no time to even properly gloat over the success of his biblical prank before Cal was turning the tables on him. Again. Well, that's what he got for living with a demon. It was possible that Cal was playing chicken with him, of course, but Oliver knew better than to call his bluff.
"You just got home! You must be exhausted, poor thing, and here I am insisting you make phone calls that could very well wait until tomorrow. Shame on me." Lurching forward and making a wild grab for Cal's phone with his free hand, wine sloshed dangerously from side to side in his glass as Oliver's voice rose an entire octave in his hasty concession. "There's really no need to bother him with this tonight, it's already so late." (It wasn't, but it wouldn't do for the landlord to start asking inconvenient questions, which Oliver tried to avoid at all costs.)