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This was not what Sam had wanted. It wasn’t what Raphael had wanted, either, but Raphael had thought to expect this to happen. When he and Sam had decided to get married - neither of them had proposed, exactly, they’d just sat down for dinner one night and started talking about the complications of mixing elven and human traditions for weddings and how they wanted to do it, and picked a good date, and it wasn’t until a reporter asked who proposed to whom that either of them realized they’d forgotten to actually do that part - Raphael had warned Sam that regardless of what they wanted, they would have to do a big fancy formal wedding. That came with the territory of being who they were.
Sam was still getting used to the idea of being a celebrity in his own right, as the driver who had won the biggest race around. Dean was the hotshot celebrity; Sam was just his younger brother who got invited to things because of Dean’s loyalty and stubbornness. Raphael had been a celebrity longer - Michael wasn’t just a racer, he was the son of one of the most powerful elves around. As a younger son, Raphael was less in the limelight, but he was still a big deal.
Sam hadn’t put up too much fuss about the guest list being several hundred people more than he’d have liked. He’d gone along with having the ceremony in an elven temple instead of somewhere human or neutral. That would limit the human traditions they could use, in terms of music or decoration, but Sam didn’t care about that. Having to participate in an adoption ritual was a bit weird, but he’d live. It’s not like he was being asked to convert to an elven religion; just to be welcomed into the community independent of his marriage to Raphael.
More difficult was the argument over John Winchester. He’d expected that to be the easiest part of all of this - Sam didn’t want him there, the elves didn’t want him there, so how hard would it be to just not invite him? As it turned out, very difficult. Elven wedding customs demanded the parents play a role in the ceremony. Since Sam’s mother was dead, that was an acceptable excuse to have Ellen stand in for her, but John wasn’t dead. “So, what, if John refuses to show up to his son marrying an elf, we can’t get married?”
“If he refuses, then you can have Dean or Bobby stand in, but we have to try four times.” Fortunately John had done as expected and refused to participate, with several choice words, so they could move forward.
Sam had not expected the biggest fight to be over the clothes. His clothes were easy enough, but Raphael’s... Michael insisted that Raphael had to wear a tux, and Raphael himself didn’t seem inclined to fight. “Sam, I hate it, but Michael’s not wrong about this being the most sacred of ceremonies for our people. I won the fight about having my marriage to you recognized by our laws and customs. l can suck it up and wear the stupid tux, for you.”
“No. It would be one thing if you were trying to wear jeans or a racing suit or whatever, but I saw the gowns you were looking at before Michael pulled this BS. Those were gorgeous, and perfectly appropriate for the dress code of a wedding. It’s not like you’re wearing it to make fun of the ceremony or of people who typically wear dresses. You’re one of them, after all.”
“And that’s all there is to it? It’s that easy for you?”
“Yep. I wouldn’t feel this strongly about it if you didn’t typically wear gowns for formal occasions, but you do. Wear what makes you happy and comfortable, what will make you smile when you look at the pictures fifty years from now.”
It had taken several rounds of back and forth, but eventually, Michael realized that Sam wasn’t backing down on this one. When Raphael took his place in the temple, he was wearing an absolutely stunning pale blue gown, the billowing skirt trailing on the floor behind him. Sam couldn’t look away from his husband.