Source. Yes, there’s actually a lady in this story, and she’s not just part of an elaborate scheme to trick some dudes into making out.
In this story, dudes don’t actually smooch, but it’s such an unexpected moment that I thought it’s worth mentioning. Lanval is in love with a fairy woman, and Guinevere gets angry because she feels like she’s not getting the attention she deserves from this hunky knight. So she figures that if he doesn’t want what she’s got, he must want something nasty:
The Queen’s heart filled with anger;
Furious, she spoke a slander:
“Lanval,” she said, “I think they’re right.
You don’t care much for such delight;
People have told me again and again
That women offer you no pleasure
With a few well-schooled young men
You prefer to pass your leisure.
Peasant coward, faithless sinner,
My lord the King is hardly the winner
In letting your sort hang around;
He’s losing God’s own grace, I’ve found!” (Source)
Apparently, the “You don’t want to fuck me? You must be some kind of queer” trope was alive and well in the 12th century. Lanval unwisely replies that his totally real fairy wife is way hotter that Guinevere. This sets up a wacky court scene where Lanval’s lover waits until the last possible moment to show everyone how hot she is, Lanval leaps off a castle wall onto her horse, and they ride off for parts unknown to get their ravishing on (this is literally what the poem says, I’m not making this up).