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Summary
Cas sputters for the right words. He can’t exactly say “I thought you were disgusted with me”. Something tells him that that's not what Dean needs to hear right now.
Before he can find a suitable answer, Dean’s already speaking again.
“You won’t talk to me, you won’t be alone with me, you won’t look at me, and you looked like you’d rather get frostbite than get in the bed with me,” Dean rambles, voice getting thick and hoarse in an attempt to keep tears choked back.
TLDR: Post-canon destiel, thinking one another's feelings are unrequited when that's (predictably) not truly the case. An abandoned cabin in a blizzard, some mild hypothermia, and huddling for warmth forces them to talk it out...and let their bodies do some talking too. :)