Richie didn't end up giving you a chance to stall and quickly jerked you up from your seat. Your chonky erection tented the front of your pants even though you tried to hunch over to hide the bulge, but as you were bent over you noticed a similar tell-tale bulge erupting from the front of Richie's pants. He stood in front of you proudly and shamelessly with a content grin on his face. The sight of him made you forget yourself for a moment and you began to straighten up without thinking, but it felt right.
Richie grunted his approval and slapped you on the back. "Let's go, Little Bro. Dad's waiting."
The smell of earthy tobacco wafted through the air as you and Richie entered the dimly-lit kitchen. You found Grizz standing near the table with his imposing frame clad in leather from head to toe. His thick beard hugged his face evenly all around. It seemed to bloom in the way it bunched at the sides from his growing grin. His eyes were beaming brightly at the sight of your bowed-out loins.
"Ah, there's my cubs!" His voice boomed with paternal pride.
With a smile that was both fierce and inviting, he pulled you both into a giant, crushing hug. You tried to shift your pelvis sideways to avoid having your cock's inflection press into Grizz's portly midsection, but he didn't seem to want to let you turn away, and your entire engorged bulge ended up getting buried deep inside his warm, distended pudge. A satisfied grunt escaped your throat despite yourself before you shook away the oddly welcome, cozy feeling. Then you began nervously trying to wiggle free from Grizz's embrace, but you were stopped when you felt a large hand cup your chin and brush and tease your broadening whisker patches. "Hmmm, Gus" Your dad rumbled, "Looks like my little cub is getting some REAL scruff now... Trying to outgrow your old man?"
You didn't know what to say. It was strange how everyone was suddenly treating you like a literal part of the family. It was beginning to dawn on you that the results of the ceremony may have been more than symbolic. Somehow it struck you deep inside your gut that you really were Grizz's son now, and that nobody should ever dare imply anything different...
"- Maybe in another decade or two, Dad." You said, not meaning to call Grizz 'Dad'. It just came out naturally, as though you couldn't bring yourself to speak or act against the legitimacy of this new familial bond.
Richie grinned by your side, taking in your sweet bonding moment as a delighted spectator... But, the positive mood didn't last long. Your father's face grew suddenly serious, his brows furrowed deeply as he gestured for you both to join him at the table.
"You boys have come a long way these last few weeks," he began, his voice grave. "Your training has been more important than you realize, and I believe it has been more successful than I could have hoped for, but the real world isn't a training ground, it is a testing ground, and it is time for you boys to face it on your own and prove yourselves MEN."
You and Richie exchanged worried glances, your earlier high replaced with growing unease.
"Listen up," Grizz continued, straddling his chair and leaning in. He took a deep drag from his cigar and exhaled a cloud of smoke, his gaze fixed intently on you both. "Our lineage, the men in our family, we're not just a rowdy pack of low-ballin', free-livin' biker boys… The truth is, we come from an ancient clan; a noble lineage that has protected and watched over this land for hundreds of years… Ya see, cubs… Our whole family; Pops, your uncles and me, we're a pack… A fraternal pack of… American werebears.
The weight of your father's words pressed heavily upon you as you shifted uneasily in your seat. You almost couldn't believe what you were hearing, but something deep inside you steadied your nerves and quieted your doubts...
"In our family," he continued in a deep, gravelly voice, "we have traditions, ancient rites of passage, and the season of hibernation is near. That means it is time for the men of our family to make their way into the mountains. We leave tonight. You cubs will be left behind to prove your worth... You must follow your instincts... Let them lead you through the mountains to the sacred caverns where we wait. You must find us there and join our well-earned season of slumber before the the sun sets on the new moon."
Richie gulped, "But, Dad-"
Grizz held up a hand. "The time for questions and preparation is over. Now, you must put what you have learned to practical use… If you are going to be men in this family and secure your position within our order, you need to find your way to the hibernation grounds together, without any guidance from me or any of our kind..."
You leaned forward, determination burning in your wide eyes. "And if we succeed?"
A smile broke through your dad's serious expression. "Then, my cubs, you will not only take your place among the honorable werebear clan and join us in our season of rest, but you will gain all the knowledge and responsibility that our clan holds.
Your fuzzy faces grew dreamy with dopy jockish grins at the thought…
"BUT -" he paused, his voice dropping an octave, "if both of you fail together, you'll be bound to the land as unworthy animals, and you'll revert to your primitive ursine forms. You'll be nothing more than a pair of helpless bear cubs… and worse, if only one of you fails while the other succeeds," he looked at both of you deeply, "then the one who fails will lose his birthright entirely. He will be reduced to a whelpish little girly-boy, never to experience any of the vitality and power that our lineage provides, stripped forever of any hint of the strength and masculinity that defines us..."
You felt a cold shiver run down your spine. The thought of losing what you had gained in the past few weeks was somehow terrifying, and the idea of Richie losing his manliness and becoming a pathetic, hairless pansy seemed even worse.
"We begin now." Grizz gave a affirming grunt and nod in your direction. The two of you mistook the gesture for a subtle vote of confidence, but it had actually been a signal to your uncles. The hulking men stood behind you and unceremoniously wrestled your melon-shaped heads into an inescapable hold. The last thing you were aware of was the feeling of your face drowning in a thatch of wiry hair while your lungs filled with the gnarly funk of mansweat.