#schaefklund

my schaefklund mood board for The Art of Loving, inspired by Olivia Dean’s whole album

pairings: kashawn aitcheson x cal ritchie / matthew schaefer x victor eklund

pov: sydney esiason martin

synopsis: Sydney plays Cupid, commits several crimes, and somehow ends up succeeding anyway.

word count: 5875 words

Sydney bites her nails anxiously as her eyes follow Matthew and Kashawn in the backyard, who are currently watching Victor and Calum play with Winnie, Alice, Theo, and Henning.

The smiles on Kashawn and Matthew’s faces make Syd’s eyes twitch because she can see the longing in their smiles and in their eyes—longing for the two other boys to notice them the way they’ve noticed them. Because ever since Kashawn and Victor officially joined the New York Islanders, it’s been a never-ending saga of watching Matthew pine over Victor and Kashawn pine over Calum.

It’s already mid-November and, despite trying her absolute best to get them to start dating each other already, Sydney swears it’s like all four of them are blind to each other’s feelings—because yes, Cal is also pining over Kash, and Vic over Schaef, all completely unknowingly.

And that is why Sydney started her mission called: Mission Cupid, so she can finally stop watching those boys pine over each other like dumbasses even though their feelings are clearly reciprocated.

Marty, who’s seated on her right with a glass of juice in hand, sighs the moment he catches sight of her expression. “Come on, Syd, let it go,” he says.

Sydney frowns almost immediately as she looks over at her husband. “Oh, come on, Marts, don’t act like you don’t want to see them together,” she fires back.

Marty rolls his eyes at her response before taking a sip of his juice. “Maybe because unlike you, I know when not to meddle in other people’s lives.”

“Oh please,” Sydney scoffs. “Someone has to do something, or they’ll just keep pining over each other until the end of time.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how time works.”

“You know what I mean.”

Marty hums but doesn’t argue further, which Sydney takes as a victory.

Because she knows she’s exaggerating, she does. But she can’t keep sitting here watching Victor and Matthew pine over each other, and the same goes for Kashawn and Cal—it’s getting ridiculous how, with just a little communication, those four could finally stop whatever nonsense they have going on and start dating already.

Instead, Kashawn and Matthew look like sad puppies whenever Cal and Victor aren’t around, while Victor and Cal practically glue themselves to each other unless Matthew and Kashawn drag them away to interact with other people.

It’s honestly painful to witness.

So after a few more seconds of watching the boys in silence, Sydney starts trying to come up with a new plan for Mission Cupid.

It takes a few minutes, really, before an idea suddenly pops into her mind, and soon enough she shoots out of her seat—startling Marty in the process—before marching straight into the house.

“Syd?” Marty calls after her.

“I’ve got it!” she yells back.

“You saying that has literally never ended well for anyone involved!”

She ignores him.

She’s about to meddle really badly with the boys’ love lives with what she’s planning to do, but frankly, she doesn’t care.

And with quick efficiency, she grabs some white paper, cuts it into smaller pieces, and starts writing on them—each in a different handwriting, as she knows how to forge every single one of the boys’ handwriting after spending so much time teaching them how to fill out paperwork and various other forms over the years.

Once she’s done writing, Sydney slips the papers into her back pocket before heading back out to the backyard, where she calls Victor and Cal over.

The two forwards look over at her and smile before agreeing and making their way over to where she is.

“You called?” Cal asks as he stops in front of her.

Victor tilts his head curiously. “What’s going on?”

Sydney returns their smiles with one of her own—one that immediately has Marty narrowing his eyes suspiciously from his seat on the patio.

“Oh, nothing,” she says innocently.

Victor and Cal exchange a look.

Somehow, neither of them believes her.

And despite very obviously not believing her, when Sydney asks them if they want to bake brownies with her, they accept almost instantly.

Which honestly tells her everything she needs to know about how much these boys adore her.

Victor’s face lights up immediately. “Really?”

“Can I lick the spoon?” Cal asks at almost the exact same time.

Sydney snorts. “Only if you don’t eat half the batter beforehand.”

“No promises,” Cal replies easily.

Victor nods in agreement beside him, looking entirely unapologetic about it.

“Traitors,” Marty mutters from his chair.

Sydney ignores him. “Come on then,” she says instead, waving the boys toward the house. “Kitchen. Now.”

The two forwards follow after her without hesitation, and before either Matthew or Kashawn can decide to tag along, Sydney throws them a look over her shoulder.

“You two stay here and keep an eye on the kids for me.”

Matthew blinks. “Us specifically?”

“Yes.”

Kashawn narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because I said so.”

Neither of them look convinced.

Marty, meanwhile, looks far too entertained by all of this. “Good luck, boys,” he calls toward Victor and Cal.

Victor frowns slightly as he walks backwards toward the patio door. “With what?”

“Surviving.”

Sydney glares at her husband and Marty simply raises his glass toward her in response.

Inside the house, Sydney immediately directs the boys toward the sink. “Wash your hands thoroughly.”

“We’re hockey players, Syd, not toddlers,” Cal says.

Sydney raises an eyebrow.

Cal looks down at his hands. “…Fair point.”

Victor laughs quietly beside him as both of them obediently wash their hands before drying them off.

After that, the kitchen falls into a surprisingly comfortable rhythm as Cal starts pulling ingredients from cupboards while Victor gathers bowls and utensils.

Sydney watches the two of them work together with the ease that only comes from spending ridiculous amounts of time around each other and almost rolls her eyes.

Because of course the two people hopelessly in love with other men move around each other like they’ve been attached at the hip since birth.

“Chocolate chips?” Victor asks.

“Already got them.”

“Cocoa powder?”

“Counter behind you.”

Victor turns and immediately bumps into Cal, who had stepped behind him without either of them noticing.

“Oh—sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

The two of them stare at each other for approximately two seconds too long before both stepping away at the exact same time. And Sydney has to physically stop herself from screaming.

Instead, she settles for smirking as she starts measuring flour. “So,” she says casually, “how are things going with your crushes?”

The reaction is immediate. Victor nearly drops the whisk, as Cal coughs so hard he has to grab the counter for support.

Sydney beams. “Oh my God, you both actually have crushes.”

“No we don’t,” Victor says far too quickly.

“Absolutely not,” Cal agrees.

“Lying is a sin.”

“Good thing I’m not religious then,” Cal shoots back.

Sydney points a spoon at him accusingly. “That wasn’t a denial.”

Cal opens his mouth before immediately closing it again. Victor looks as though he’d rather be checked into the boards by a two hundred and thirty pound defenseman than continue this conversation.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

“So,” Sydney continues as she starts mixing the dry ingredients together, “is it serious?”

“No.”

“Definitely not.”

“Would you date them if they asked you out?”

Silence.

Sydney raises an eyebrow. Cal suddenly becomes extremely interested in the bag of chocolate chips in front of him. Victor, meanwhile, has turned a shade of red that probably shouldn’t exist in nature.

“Oh my God,” Sydney says. Neither of them answer. “Oh my God.”

“We’re making brownies,” Victor says weakly.

“We are.” Sydney confirms playfully.

“So maybe we could talk about brownies.”

Sydney grins. “Vic.”

“No.”

“Victor.”

“No.”

“Is it Matthew?”

Victor freezes. And immediately Cal bursts out laughing, while Sydney gasps dramatically as she points at him.

“It is Matthew!”

Victor covers his face with both hands. “Oh my God, Syd.”

“Oh my God, Vic!”

“I’m leaving.”

“No you’re not.”

“Watch me.”

“You still have to mix the batter.”

Victor stares down at the bowl in betrayal.

“…I hate this house.”

Sydney laughs so hard she nearly spills the sugar. Beside them, Cal is laughing just as much, which means he unfortunately misses the way Sydney slowly turns toward him with narrowed eyes.

His smile falls immediately. “No.”

Sydney smiles sweetly. “So yours is Kash.”

Cal points toward Victor.

“Why are you interrogating me when he just admitted it first?”

“Because he’s already suffering and now it’s your turn.”

“That’s not how friendship works.”

“Actually,” Sydney says, “that’s exactly how friendship works.”

Cal groans. “Syd—”

“Cal.”

“No.”

“Calum.”

He glares at her, as she waits. And eventually, his shoulders slump in defeat.

“…Maybe.”

Sydney gasps again. “Maybe?”

“Don’t make me say it.” Cal mumbles.

“Oh, I’m absolutely making you say it.”

Cal stares at the ceiling for a long moment as though asking the universe for strength before finally sighing.

“…Fine. Yes.”

Sydney slaps both hands onto the counter. “I knew it!”

Victor starts laughing again.

“Traitor,” Cal tells him.

“You laughed at me first.”

“Because your face went red.”

“Your ears are literally red right now.”

Cal immediately covers them with both hands. Sydney thinks she may actually be witnessing miracles.

The rest of the baking process continues much the same way, with Sydney subtly—and sometimes not so subtly—trying to pry information out of them while Victor and Cal do their absolute best to redirect every conversation elsewhere.

Unfortunately for them, they fail miserably.

By the time the brownies are in the oven, Sydney knows far more than either of them intended to reveal. As Victor apparently thinks Matthew’s smile is distracting, and Cal thinks Kashawn’s laugh should be considered a public safety hazard.

Neither of them have any intention of actually doing anything about their feelings. Which is, frankly, unacceptable.

Still, by the time the brownies have cooled and been divided into enough containers for everyone to take some home, Sydney decides she’s gathered enough information for one afternoon.

Besides, she still has phase two of Mission Cupid to prepare.

“Alright, out you go,” she says as she starts shooing the boys toward the backyard again.

“What, you’re kicking us out?” Cal asks.

“Absolutely.”

Victor narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because the kids miss you.”

“Pretty sure Ali has forgotten I exist.”

“Impossible. You’re one of her favorites.”

Victor immediately softens, and Cal snorts.

“Manipulation.”

“Correct.”

The two of them laugh before eventually heading back outside, where they’re immediately ambushed by Theo and Henning demanding another game.

Sydney watches them go for a moment before reaching into her back pocket to make sure the folded pieces of paper are still there.

They are.

Good.

Because while Victor and Cal spend the rest of the afternoon playing with the kids and pretending they aren’t hopelessly in love with Matthew and Kashawn, Sydney keeps her notes safely tucked away.

Mission Cupid is officially underway.

And if she has anything to say about it, those four idiots won’t know what hit them.

After dinner later that evening, while everyone sits scattered around the living room making friendship bracelets, Sydney quietly slips away.

Not that anyone notices.

Matthew is currently helping Alice figure out how to untangle approximately seventeen different colors of string after she somehow managed to knot them all together in under five minutes.

Kashawn and Cal are arguing over whether black and navy blue count as different colors.

“They literally do,” Kashawn says.

“They’re basically cousins.”

“That’s not how colors work.”

“It is in my heart.”

Victor, meanwhile, is laughing so hard he’s nearly falling off the couch while Winnie proudly shows him the yellow bracelet she’d made specifically for him. And Marty—Marty notices. Of course he notices.

His eyes narrow immediately as Sydney quietly stands from her seat. “Where are you going?” he asks.

“Bathroom.”

“Liar.”

Sydney gasps. “I can’t believe the lack of trust in this marriage.”

“You look exactly like you did this afternoon before calling the boys in to bake brownies.”

Sydney pauses. “…Allegedly.”

Marty points a finger at her. “That wasn’t a denial.”

She ignores him and quickly escapes to the kitchen before he can interrogate her any further.

The brownie containers are exactly where she left them earlier, neatly lined up across the counter.

Each boy has his own color. Matthew’s blue one, Victor’s yellow one, Kashawn’s black one and Cal’s red one.

Sydney pulls the folded notes from her pocket and spreads them out across the counter. Then she gets to work.

Kashawn’s fake confession goes into Cal’s container. Matthew’s goes into Victor’s. Cal’s goes into Kashawn’s. Victor’s goes into Matthew’s. It’s simple, elegant, and potentially catastrophic. Perfect.

Sydney carefully slides each note beneath the brownies before closing the lids again and making sure everything looks completely untouched.

By the time she’s finished, there is absolutely no evidence left behind. Well. No evidence besides her conscience. Fortunately, her conscience has been supporting Mission Cupid since day one.

Once she’s satisfied with her work, she packs the containers neatly into bags for the boys to take home later before setting Matthew’s aside and placing it safely in the fridge.

Then she returns to the living room as though she hasn’t just committed several crimes against honesty.

Marty looks up immediately and Sydney smiles sweetly.

Marty groans. “Oh God.”

Several hours later, when the evening finally starts winding down and jackets begin appearing and goodbyes start being exchanged, Sydney springs into action.

Phase two and Cal is the first victim.

“Here you go,” Sydney says as she hands him the bag containing the red container.

Cal smiles immediately. “Thanks, Syd.”

“You should thank Kash actually.”

Cal pauses. “What?”

“He packed your container.”

Sydney watches the realization hit him in real time.

“Oh.” His ears immediately start turning pink. “Oh.”

Sydney has to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. “Yeah,” she says casually. “He wanted to make sure you got enough brownies.”

Cal suddenly becomes extremely interested in staring at the bag in his hands. “That’s… nice of him.”

Sydney hums innocently.

Across the hallway, Kashawn is pulling on his jacket when she walks over and hands him his own bag.

“Here.”

Kash takes it with an easy smile. “Thanks.”

“Cal packed it.”

His eyes widen slightly. “He did?”

Sydney nods. “Said he wanted to make sure you got your share.”

Kashawn looks down at the bag for a moment before the smallest smile appears on his face. A genuinely soft one. The kind he tries very hard not to show people.

“Oh.”

Sydney feels approximately seventy-five years being added back onto her lifespan. Mission Cupid was worth it for that smile alone.

Nearby, Cal is pretending not to look at Kashawn. And Kashawn is pretending not to look at Cal. Neither of them are succeeding. Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.

Then comes phase three. The dangerous one.

“Schaef,” Sydney calls.

The defenseman looks up from where he’s helping Theo put his shoes on.

“Hm?”

“Can you walk Victor to the door and give him his brownies for me?”

Matthew blinks. “Why can’t you?”

“Because I’m busy.”

“You are literally standing there.”

“Exactly.”

Matthew narrows his eyes suspiciously, while Sydney smiles at him. Eventually, he sighs in defeat before taking Victor’s bag from her.

“Come on, Vic.”

Victor immediately brightens. “Okay.”

The two of them disappear toward the front door together, and Sydney watches from the living room entrance. Not in a creepy way. In an observational way. A scientific way.

Marty walks up beside her. “You know stalking your children is frowned upon.”

“They’re not my children.”

“That somehow makes it worse.”

Sydney ignores him.

Victor is saying something that makes Matthew laugh. After a second, Matthew says something back that makes Victor duck his head slightly as he smiles. Then Matthew opens the door for him, and Victor hesitates for a second before saying something else.

Matthew laughs again. Victor smiles, before the door closes.

Sydney presses a hand dramatically against her chest. “They’re so in love.”

“They’ve known each other for like six months.”

“And yet.”

Marty rubs his face with one hand. “I miss when our biggest household problem was Winnie putting crayons in the toaster.”

A few minutes later, Matthew finally walks back into the house. He still has that small smile on his face. The absent-minded kind. The kind people wear when they’re replaying conversations in their heads.

Sydney immediately notices. Of course she notices. “Oh,” she says casually. “Vic made a container of brownies specifically for you by the way.”

Matthew stops walking. “He did?”

Sydney nods toward the kitchen. “It’s in the fridge.”

Confusion immediately crosses his face. “Why would Victor do that for me?”

Sydney shrugs as though she has absolutely no involvement in any of this whatsoever.

“No idea.”

Matthew continues staring at her. Sydney stares back. Eventually he narrows his eyes.

“You’re being weird.” He says suspiciously.

“I’m always weird.”

“Different weird.”

She considers this.

“Fair.”

Matthew waits, but Sydney remains silent—before finally, she sighs dramatically.

“He told me to make sure I told you about it.”

That wasn’t technically true, but it also wasn’t technically a lie. Probably.

Matthew’s expression softens immediately. “Oh.”

There it is again. That smile. Small, quiet and fond. Sydney has to physically stop herself from pumping her fist in victory. Instead, she simply watches as Matthew heads toward the kitchen.

Marty appears beside her once more. “You know,” he says, “if this somehow backfires, I’m telling all four of them it was your idea.”

Sydney scoffs. “When this works, I expect a formal apology.”

“When this explodes, I expect to be removed from all legal responsibility.”

Sydney grins as she watches Matthew open the fridge door.

“Mission Cupid has never failed me before.”

Marty raises an eyebrow. “You started Mission Cupid this afternoon.”

Sydney waves a hand dismissively. “Details.”

Somewhere in the kitchen, she hears Matthew make a surprised little noise as he finds the container waiting for him. Sydney smiles to herself. Phase three has officially begun. Now all she has to do is sit back and let chaos do the rest.

𓍯

The next morning starts normally.

Or at least as normally as mornings can be in a house containing toddlers, elementary school children, Matthew Schaefer, and Marty Martin.

Which is to say: Not normal at all, because Henning is refusing to eat anything that isn’t dinosaur-shaped. Theo has somehow managed to get oatmeal in his hair. Alice is explaining in great detail why dragons would be superior hockey players, and Winnie is arguing the opposite.

Matthew sits at the kitchen table in pajama pants and a hoodie, staring down at the folded note in his hand as though it might suddenly disappear if he looks away for too long.

Sydney notices immediately. Mostly because he’s already checked it approximately eleven times in the last five minutes. Not that she’s counting. She’s absolutely counting.

As Sydney scoops another spoonful of yogurt toward Henning, her phone suddenly vibrates on the counter. Then again, then a third time. Simultaneously, so she glances down and finds Victor, Cal and Kashawn’s name on her screen.

Oh.

Oh this is good.

Very slowly, a smile begins spreading across her face—as across the table, Matthew unfolds the note again for what is probably the twelfth time.

Then suddenly— “Oh my God.”

The words leave him in a mixture of disbelief, wonder, and something dangerously close to joy.

Marty immediately looks up from his coffee. “What?”

Matthew looks up at him with wide eyes. “No, because—” He looks back down at the note, then back at Marty, then back at the note again. “Oh my God.”

“Schaef.”

Matthew is already standing. “This was in the brownies Vic made for me.”

Marty frowns. “What was?”

Instead of answering, Matthew practically sprints around the table before shoving the folded paper into Marty’s hand.

“It’s his handwriting.”

Sydney keeps her eyes firmly on the twins breakfast. Completely innocent and entirely uninvolved, as Marty unfolds the note and he reads.

“Matt,

I don’t really know how to say this without sounding stupid, so I’m just going to say it.

I like you. Like, really like you.

I think I’ve liked you for a while now, actually.

You’re my favorite part of most days, and somehow you’re always the person I look for first when I walk into a room.

I know this might make things weird, and if you don’t feel the same then that’s okay. I don’t want to lose what we already have.

But I figured if I never said anything, I’d regret it.

— Vic”

Silence falls over the kitchen, even Theo stops chewing. Slowly, Marty lowers the note then he looks at Matthew who looks like he may actually explode. Then Marty looks at Sydney, who keeps feeding yogurt to Henning. Minding her own business, living her life.

Marty narrows his eyes and Sydney smiles sweetly—while at that exact moment, her phone vibrates again, and again, and again. Perfect timing.

Sydney reaches for it immediately.

The individual chat feed do not disappoint.

Cal: SYD WHAT THE HELL DO I DO?????

Attached is a picture of the note.

Victor: IS THIS REAL?????

Another picture.

Kash: Need immediate assistance.

Picture included.

Sydney bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. Because apparently all four of them immediately went into full panic mode. Excellent. Exactly according to plan.

She opens Victor’s message first.

What if he doesn’t actually mean it?

Then Cal’s.

Do I text him? Call him? Pretend I never saw it?

Then Kashawn’s.

Hypothetically speaking, if someone confessed to you through brownies, what is the socially acceptable response time?

Sydney nearly chokes on her own laughter. And instead, she sends the exact same answer to all three of them.

Act on it.

Chances like this don’t happen twice.

It’s simple, effective, inspirational, and potentially destructive. It’s perfect.

Around the table, Matthew clears his throat. “Syd?”

Immediately she looks up from her phone, to look at Matthew.

He holds the note out toward her. “What do I do?”

Sydney takes the paper and pretends to read it for the first time. “Hm.”

Matthew stares at her impatiently. “Syd.”

She hands it back. “Act on it.”

“What?”

“Chances like this only happen once.”

The exact same advice. Fairness matters.

Matthew blinks, then he looks back down at the note, then back at her. Then suddenly—he’s gone. Actually gone, and his chair nearly falls over behind him as he bolts toward the stairs.

“What is happening?” Marty asks.

“I need to get changed!” Matthew yells from upstairs.

“…What?”

“Practice in two hours!”

That somehow explains absolutely nothing.

A minute later Matthew comes flying back downstairs freshly changed into decent clothes, with his headphones around his neck and his car keys in hand.

He kisses Winnie’s forehead, then Alice’s, then Theo’s, then Henning’s, then Sydney’s cheek.

Marty raises an eyebrow. “Practice.”

Matthew points toward him. “I won’t be late.”

Then he’s out the front door before anyone can ask another question. A few seconds later the front door slams shut and silence follows.

Marty slowly turns toward Sydney. “Did you know about the note?”

Sydney shrugs, but unfortunately for her, Marty has known her for years. That shrug translates very clearly into: Yes. And somehow also: I committed crimes.

Marty sighs. “Syd.”

“What?”

“You made Matthew think Victor wrote that.”

Sydney rolls her eyes. “Oh please.”

Then she slides her phone across the table toward him. Marty picks it up, reads the messages, sees the pictures and reads the messages again. Then slowly looks back up.

“…You forged all four of them?”

Sydney beams proudly. “Pretty good, right?”

“How did you even get their handwriting this accurate?”

She smirks. “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

“A criminal also doesn’t reveal evidence.”

“Exactly.”

Marty stares at her for several long seconds. “I married a supervillain.”

“You married a genius.”

“Debatable.”

Sydney waves him off. “Eat your breakfast. You’ve got meetings with the assistant GMs before practice.”

Marty makes a face at her, but Sydney points toward his plate and he obeys. Mostly because after years of marriage he’s learned that arguing with Sydney Martin when she believes she’s right is about as effective as arguing with a brick wall.

Half an hour later he leaves for the rink. And then begins the longest day of Sydney’s entire life, as hours crawl by. The twins nap. Winnie and Alice go to school. Laundry gets done. Lunch gets made. The dishwasher runs.

Sydney checks her phone every four minutes, but nothing. Five minutes later, still nothing. Ten minutes later, nothing again.

Eventually she starts messaging them herself.

Sydney: Did you talk?

No response.

Sydney: Anything happen?

Silence.

Sydney: Blink twice if you’re alive.

Nothing. Even Marty refuses to update her. Which feels deeply disrespectful considering she’s the one who launched this operation in the first place.

By the afternoon, Sydney is approximately twelve seconds away from driving to the rink herself.

Then she hears it. Car doors. Multiple. And immediately. Sydney practically teleports to the front door.

The moment she opens it, Theo and Henning immediately sprint outside toward Marty.

“Dada!”

Marty barely has time to brace himself before two small children collide with his legs. Behind them, Winnie and Alice rush over from where they’d been coloring in the living room.

Sydney barely notices. Because she’s too busy looking toward the driveway, at Matthew’s car and at Kashawn’s car. Her eyes immediately search for Victor stepping out beside Matthew. For Cal stepping out beside Kashawn.

But instead—Victor climbs out of Kashawn’s car and Cal climbs out of Matthew’s. Sydney blinks, once then twice.

That isn’t right. That isn’t right at all.

Then she notices their expressions. Matthew and Kashawn stand beside each other with matching closed-off expressions. Carefully blank, Carefully controlled. While Victor looks devastated. Absolutely devastated. And besides him, Cal somehow looks even worse. Heartbroken. Completely and utterly heartbroken.

Sydney feels her stomach drop. Because suddenly—for the first time since Mission Cupid began—she thinks she may have made a very, very big mistake.

Sydney bites the inside of her cheek as she looks between all of them. First Victor, then Cal, then Matthew then Kashawn. Then her eyes meet Marty’s and he shakes his head almost imperceptibly. Not now. Sydney swallows.

Around them, everyone starts filtering back into the house. Theo immediately latches onto Cal’s hand and Henning reaches for Victor. Neither of the boys hesitate. Victor quietly scoops Henning into his arms before heading toward the patio doors, while Cal takes Theo outside with him.

Sydney watches carefully, as Victor doesn’t look at Matthew, Cal doesn’t look at Kashawn, Matthew doesn’t look at Victor and Kashawn doesn’t look at Cal. The avoidance is so obvious it practically crackles in the air, and the tension follows them into the house. Into the living room. Into the kitchen. Into every room they enter. And Sydney has never hated silence more in her entire life.

The moment Marty disappears down the hallway toward their bedroom, Sydney follows him.

The door barely clicks shut before she turns toward him. “What happened?”

Marty exhales heavily as he rubs a hand over his face. “Schaef went to Victor’s apartment this morning.”

Sydney blinks. “Yeah I figured that much”

“With flowers.”

Her heart drops straight into her stomach. “Oh no.”

“He went there to confess back.”

Sydney closes her eyes. Because of course he did. Of course Matthew Schaefer showed up with flowers.

Marty sighs. “Victor told him he didn’t write the note.”

Sydney says nothing.

“He thought Matthew was messing with him.”

“Oh.”

“Then Victor showed Matthew the note he got.”

Sydney slowly sinks down onto the edge of the bed. “Oh no.”

“And Matthew told him he didn’t write that one either.”

Sydney presses both hands over her face.

Beside her, Marty continues. “The same thing happened with Cal and Kashawn.”

She looks up immediately. “What?”

“Cal called Kash.” Marty pauses. “Kash denied writing it, then Cal denied writing his.”

She feels sick. The room falls silent, because suddenly the confusion, the hurt and the heartbreak on Victor and Cal’s faces all make sense.

Sydney stares down at the floor. Slowly, guilt starts crawling its way up her spine.

Marty rubs his face again. “Syd…” She already knows what he’s going to say. “You shouldn’t have meddled.”

The words aren’t cruel. They’re gentle, careful even. But they still hit. Because he’s right.

She bites her lip. “I’ll tell them.” Marty looks up. “I’ll tell them it was me.”

He immediately shakes his head. “No.”

“Marty—”

“Not now.”

Sydney frowns. “They deserve to know.”

“And they will.” He sits down beside her. “But right now emotions are high and everyone’s upset. Leave it alone for a little while.” He squeezes her hand.

“They’re fighting because of me.”

“They’ll handle it.”

Sydney looks down at their joined hands. Then finally—she nods. After a few more minutes they walk back toward the living room, together.

Unfortunately, Marty is wrong. Because they don’t handle it. If anything, things somehow get worse.

Victor and Matthew argue in the kitchen over whose turn it is to unload the dishwasher, while Cal and Kashawn snap at each other over what movie to put on for the kids.

Matthew and Victor disagree over hockey, as Cal and Kashawn disagree over literally everything else. And every time one fight settles, another starts somewhere else.

Sydney hates it. Absolutely hates it, because Victor stops smiling, Matthew stops laughing, Cal gets quieter, and Kashawn gets sharper around the edges.

The house feels wrong, the air feels wrong. Everything feels wrong and by dinner time, Sydney feels like she might actually lose her mind.

Then—

“Kashawn, can you pass me the juice?”

“It’s literally next to you.”

“So?”

“So grab it yourself.”

Cal stares at him for a few seconds and Kashawn stares back.

“Oh my God, stop.”

The words leave Sydney before she can stop them. The entire table goes silent, as every head turns toward her.

Sydney exhales shakily. “It was me.” Nobody says anything. “The notes. They were fromme.” Her voice gets quieter.

Matthew blinks at her as Victor freezes, while Cal lowers his fork and Kashawn stares.

Sydney swallows. “I wrote all of them. I forged your handwriting. I just…” She laughs weakly. “I wanted you all to stop pining over each other and actually do something about your feelings.”

Nobody interrupts.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” She looks down at her plate. “I didn’t want you all to hate each other.”

Her voice cracks slightly.

“I just wanted you all to be happy.”

The room stays quiet for another second, then another. Then—Cal snorts, and Sydney blinks while Kashawn starts grinning, Victor starts laughing and Matthew immediately follows.

Sydney stares at them. “…What?”

Victor is the first one to recover. “Syd.”

“What?”

“We knew.” Kashawn says grinning.

Her brain stops functioning. “…What?”

Matthew laughs. “We figured it out the second we compared notes.”

Sydney blinks, again. “What?”

Kashawn grins. “None of us wrote anything.”

“Which narrowed the suspects down pretty quickly,” Cal adds.

“And considering you taught all of us how to fill out paperwork—” Victor gestures toward her. “The handwriting thing made sense.”

Sydney stares. “You knew?”

“We suspected. And Marty confirmed it,” Matthew says helpfully.

Sydney slowly turns toward her husband, and Marty suddenly finds the mashed potatoes fascinating.

“You betrayed me.”

“I chose survival.”

“You were supposed to be on my side!”

“I was on the side of not getting murdered by four professional hockey players.”

Sydney throws a napkin at him and he catches it effortlessly. The traitor. Absolute traitor. Then she looks back toward the boys.

“Wait.” Realization hits her. “You were pretending?”

Cal nods. “Victor and I thought it’d be funny.”

“It was his idea,” Victor says immediately.

“Traitor.”

“You were all acting upset!”

Matthew laughs. “You should’ve seen your face.”

“I felt horrible!”

Kashawn snorts. “Oh we know.”

“I thought I destroyed four friendships!”

“Impossible,” Cal says immediately.

Sydney looks over at him.

He shrugs. “We love each other too much for that.”

The words settle warmly over the table, it’s simple, honest and true. Sydney looks between all four of them, then she narrows her eyes.

“…Did my plan at least work?”

It’s complet silence for half a second, as Cal looks at Kashawn, Victor looks at Matthew, Kashawn looks at Cal, Matthew looks at Victor, and Kashawn looks suspiciously amused.

Then—Kash leans over and presses a quick kiss against Cal’s lips. Cal immediately turns bright red.

“Oh my God.” Sydney points at them. “Oh my God.”

Beside them, Matthew reaches for Victor’s hand beneath the table and Victor looks down at their intertwined fingers before smiling softly. It’s proof enough.

Sydney gasps dramatically. “MISSION CUPID WORKED!”

Alice startles, as Theo cheers despite having absolutely no idea what’s happening, and Henning joins in anyway, while Winnie rolls her eyes.

Marty sighs. “I’ll never hear the end of this.”

“Never,” Sydney confirms.

She stands from her chair immediately. “I want it officially noted for the record that I was right.”

“You committed fraud,” Marty says.

“I committed love.”

“That’s not better.”

“It is in my heart.”

Cal starts laughing, as Victor hides his face in his hands, while Matthew looks fondly exasperated and Kashawn shakes his head.

Sydney points accusingly at all four of them. “And next time maybe don’t spend six months staring longingly at each other across locker rooms and team dinners.”

“We weren’t that obvious,” Victor says.

Every adult in the room bursts out laughing.

Victor looks offended. “We weren’t!”

“Schaef looked at you like you personally invented happiness,” Marty says.

Matthew nearly chokes.

“And Kash looked ready to fight God every time Cal talked to another person,” Sydney adds.

Kashawn immediately points at her. “That’s slander.”

“It’s eyewitness testimony.”

Cal is laughing so hard he’s crying.

By the end of dinner, the tension that had filled the house all day has finally disappeared.

Victor is smiling again, Cal’s laughing again, Matthew is relaxed and Kashawn has softened. Everything has settled back into place. Better than before, somehow.

Later that night, after everyone has gone home and the house has finally gone quiet, Marty finds Sydney standing in the kitchen with a satisfied smile on her face.

“You know,” he says, stepping beside her, “your methods are terrifying.”

“But effective.”

“Debatable.”

She raises an eyebrow.

Marty sighs. “Fine.”

Sydney grins.

He points at her. “But this is not permission to do this again.”

She says nothing.

Marty narrows his eyes. “Sydney.”

“What?”

“You’re thinking about doing it again.”

She gasps. “I would never.”

“The twins aren’t even in kindergarten yet and somehow I know you’re already planning future operations.”

Sydney smiles innocently as Marty groans—and somewhere upstairs, Matthew laughs at something Victor says over the phone, while across town, Cal is probably still blushing over Kashawn kissing him.

Sydney leans against the counter and smiles. Because maybe her methods had been questionable. Maybe her execution had been morally grey. Maybe several laws had been broken along the way. But in the end—Mission Cupid had been accomplished.

And honestly?

since i’m bored here’s another schaefklund/schaeflund mood board for y’all and this one’s based on my second schaefklund fic Xo, (only if you say yes) 😋